Chapter Nine
Elliot
There aren’t many things that entertain me these days, but the look on Seraphine’s face when I spoke those dirty words to her in the bar was priceless.
I’ll never forget the way her lips parted, eyes wide in shock.
The beautiful shade of pink her cheeks turned is my new favorite color.
I have a shirt in the exact shade, and I’ll have to get a hundred more.
The girl is breathtaking beyond belief, beautiful in ways she doesn’t understand.
Not only her looks, but in how sweet she is.
How flustered she gets. How much she holds back.
I see the woman inside her wanting to get free.
The fierce woman hiding under that shy exterior she shows the world.
I want it. I want her. It’s terrible, I know.
I shouldn’t, and for so many reasons. But I’ve never been one to ignore something I want.
If only she were more cooperative. How many women would turn down the job offer I gave?
None. Only her. Anyone else would take the job for the pay alone, never mind everything else I threw in there.
Hell, people would take the job for nothing, just to get in my good graces.
Seraphine is stubborn. Problem is I like that too.
I like the fight she’s putting up, because underneath it all, I know she wants this.
I have no problem fighting for what I want, knowing I will get it in the end.
Even if it’s something I shouldn’t have.
I’m not sure why I’ve suddenly become so obsessed with this young woman, but I just have to have her.
I’m not so naive to think she isn’t affected by me.
She could be thinking about me right now.
Could be lying in her bed, rubbing that sweet pussy of hers as she thinks about me filling her with my cock or sucking on her clit.
Maybe she’s imagining me stroking my cock for her, putting on a show like I said I would.
Or perhaps she’d rather I watch her because I said I liked it.
With her pink cheeks, she’d drag her hands down her body and play with her pussy for me.
I hardly make it into my bedroom before I tear open my pants to stroke myself.
I lean against the wall, imagining her innocent little self lying on my bed, legs spread, pussy soaked and glistening, one finger dragging along her clit teasingly as she watches me pleasure myself—for her. Because of her.
I stroke faster, unsure of when the last time I did this was.
It’s not that I’ve lost it, I’m fifty-two not a hundred, but work takes up most of my time.
But Seraphine has caught the attention of my dick, and he won’t be satisfied until he has her.
Even then, I’m certain it won’t be enough.
Which is going to be a problem. A big fucking problem.
Fuck that for now. It’s a problem for later. Right now, I need to come. Preferably all over Seraphine’s tits and pretty pink nipples, but considering that isn’t an option, my hand will do.
My balls draw up and my stomach tightens just as the orgasm washes over me. I cup my free hand over the head of my dick to catch my release, not wanting to make a mess on the floor. When the last drops have been rung from my cock, I drop my head against the wall and catch my breath. I am so fucked.
The morning comes too quickly, same as I did last night, if I’m honest.
As I’m heading out the door, my phone rings, so I pull it from my pocket to answer. I hesitate when I see it’s my son.
“Harrison,” I answer.
“Were you able to get everything handled?”
I put my briefcase on the ground to open my car door, then toss it into the back once it’s open.
“I’m working on it,” I say as I get into the front seat. “Why? Did you get caught sleeping with your sister again?”
“Stepsister,” he snaps. “And no. Angela’s traveling for a show.”
Angela is always traveling for a show. She’s a model and does shoots all over the world. Harrison is in law school full time. How they managed to have time off together is a mystery to me. I can’t even get them together for holidays. Though, I think that’s more by choice than anything.
Legally, she isn’t my stepdaughter anymore, but her mother and I were married for twelve years, so I’d say she’s still family. Though I talk to her even less than I talk to Harrison. I wonder if her mother knows about this little tryst, and if so, what she thinks about it.
“Oh, wonderful. So, I’ll have some reprieve from this mess, then.”
“You act like I wanted to get caught,” he argues.
“Well, knowing you, I can’t be so sure you didn’t.”
He mutters something under his breath that I don’t catch. Probably for the best.
“Look, can you stop by here later so we can figure this out? Despite what you believe, I don’t want this to ruin your life.”
“Yes, because it would ruin yours as well.”
“Can you come here or not?” he barks.
“Sure. I’ll get back to you with a time once I get to the office.”
“Thanks.” He ends the call, and I start the car, driving to the office in complete silence as I do every morning.
I hit hardly any traffic, thanks to the early hour.
It’s foggy today, likely to rain for most of it.
Unlike most people, I don’t hate the rain.
I don’t find it an inconvenience considering I don’t spend much time outside.
I go through my normal routine of making coffee and getting caught up on emails as I wait for Michelle to arrive.
She checks in with me when she does, and I let her know to clear anything she can from my schedule so I can make it over to Harrison’s.
It isn’t far from here, so it won’t take up my entire day.
I’m in the middle of looking over a new acquisition when Michelle lets me know my afternoon is free. Glancing at the time, I see I have a little over two hours before I’ll head to Harrison’s. I should stop on the way and get us lunch. It would be a nice thing to do.
I’m not sure when or how our relationship became what it is now.
I’ve always been a family man, though maybe not so in the way that I’m affectionate.
But I loved his mother dearly, and it was awful when she died.
I cared for and loved Angela’s mother as well.
It was her decision to end the marriage, not mine.
Though I felt the loss, it was nothing compared to when Laura died.
I provided for Miranda and Angela, made sure we had weekly meals together with Harrison, and she knew getting into the marriage that my job would come first. How else would she enjoy the life she wanted?
Harrison was a great kid. Smart and always well-behaved.
I never had issues with him, and perhaps that’s because he was young when his mother died, and he didn’t know any different than what I set out as expectations.
When Miranda came into the picture, he was thrilled to have a mother-figure and a sibling and was well aware that she wasn’t replacing his mother, but would be here as part of our family, regardless.
It’s hard to say if it was the divorce that pushed him away or just him getting into his teen years.
Miranda and I got together when Harrison was eight and divorced when he was twenty.
He’s my only child and I’m not friends with anyone who has children, so I don’t have anything to compare our relationship to.
All I know is we hardly have a relationship at all, anymore.
But he always knows who to call when something is wrong, or he needs something fixed.
Guess in some ways, he’ll always need me, and I don’t hate that.
His reliance on me is what keeps us together.
I don’t hate my son; we’re just on different paths.
Such is life, I suppose. I’m building an empire; he’s going to school to be a lawyer.
We haven’t had the discussion of whether or not he will come to work for me after he passes the BAR exams. When he was younger, he was thrilled at the idea of working with me, but things change as you get older, so who knows how it’ll go when the time comes.
I don’t have room for him here in the company, but if he chose to work for me, I would make room.
I will make exceptions for my son, and I will make room for him in my life however he wants or needs.
But I will not go out of my way to coddle or spoil him.
The morning goes by quickly, and I stop at the sub shop around the corner from my building before hopping into my car to drive to his condo. It’s usually a ten-minute drive, but with the traffic, it’ll take double that. The meatball subs should stay warm enough on my passenger seat.
Putting in the code for his parking garage, I drive into the underground lot, then let myself up to his floor. This, like many, is a building I own. I offered Harrison the penthouse suite when he was looking for a place, but he denied it. Didn’t really give me a reason, but I left it alone.
I knock on his door when I reach it, and he pulls it open, not responding to me in any way other than to move to the side for me to enter.
“I brought lunch,” I say, holding up the bag.
“I ate already.”
“Did you? Or are you just saying that to be difficult?”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be an asshole yet. You’ve been in my house for ten seconds.”
I put the bag on the counter then raise my hands. “My apologies.”
Harrison walks over to the counter to grab the bag of subs and pulls out both, sliding one my way.
It’s one of the foods we both enjoy, and whenever I bring him lunch, it’s my go-to.
Meaning he knows they’re made exactly the same, so it doesn’t matter which he takes.
We may not be close, but we know each other well enough.
I watch as he unwraps the sandwich, noting how much he looks like me when I was that age.
His eyes are different. He has his mother’s honey brown ones, and he has more curl to his hair than I do—also from his mother.
But his height and build match mine, and his face is full of the youth I once had and took advantage of for quite some time.
Not that it got me anywhere outside of women’s beds, not until I met his mother.
But that’s what happens when you’re poor.
No one gives you the time of day. I don’t have his mother to thank for my success, but I do have her to thank for my confidence.
Without her, I wouldn’t be where I am today.
Confidence is key when building a business as large as mine.
There is no room for second-guessing. It took a long time for me to find myself and my voice, and it’s all thanks to Laura.
“What do we need to discuss?” I ask, pulling out the stool to take a seat at the island.
He swallows his food before grabbing a napkin and wiping his mouth of the red sauce.
“Angela and I are staying together,” he says, leaving no room for argument. “This has been going on for a while, and we have no intention of stopping.”
I nod once, not surprised by the declaration. Maybe even grateful for it. It means there’s no chance of him and Seraphine getting back together.
“Okay,” I answer simply, picking up my sub.
It’s not what I expected him to say, I had no idea this was a thing between them, but how would I when he never confided in me and he had a girlfriend? This enrages me for all the wrong reasons. It isn’t about him keeping it from me, it’s about hurting Seraphine.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“What would you like me to say? You’re an adult. You make your own decisions. I can’t stop you.”
He blinks at me, then shakes his head. “Fine. Whatever. How do we deal with this?”
“Beats me. But I’ll get my team on it to figure it out.”
“And Sera?”
“Seraphine is being handled.”
Sort of. She will be. As soon as I can get her to listen to me. At least I don’t think she’ll tell anyone what happened in the meantime.
“You better not threaten her or anything,” he warns, pausing with his sub halfway to his mouth.
I raise a brow. “Perhaps you should have thought about that before you got into bed with your stepsister and allowed your girlfriend to find you.”
He grits his teeth, putting his food down harder than necessary. “All I’m saying is she’s a nice girl. She doesn’t take well to men being mean. Her father was a fucking dick.”
Oh? This is news to me, but news that will be helpful.
“Then why were you unfaithful?”
“I’m not getting into that with you.”
“Alright.”
He makes an annoyed sound and leaves the room, returning a moment later with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He pours two fingers in each and slides one over to me. Meatball subs and whiskey, what a lunch. I won’t deny the alcohol though.
“I appreciate you helping me with this,” he says, though it’s forced. Still, I appreciate his manners.
“Well, you didn’t leave me much of a choice, Harrison.”
“Why do you have to do that?” he barks, putting his glass onto the counter harshly.
“Be honest?” I question.
“I’m apologizing to you, and you’re being an asshole.”
I take a mouthful of whiskey. It burns as it goes down, settling heavily in my stomach.
“Apologies do nothing, son. Not a goddamn thing. What you should have done was think about what you did before you did it.”
“People make mistakes.”
“And you just told me Angela and you are staying together. Meaning it wasn’t a mistake. You wouldn’t have told me about this had you not been caught and put my company at risk. All of this is very selfish, you know.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“If you say so,” I mutter, finishing my drink and pouring more. I’m going to need it. I didn’t plan on arguing with my son today, but he has an attitude, and I’m grumpy.
It falls silent for some time as we drink and finish our food. It’s awkward, to say the least, and I’m just getting ready to say my goodbyes, grab my things, and go home, when there is a knock at the door.
Harrison frowns, staring at it. Then looks at me with a raised brow.
“This isn’t my house,” I say.
He shakes his head and goes to the door, opening it.
I can’t see who stands in the hall because the door opens toward me, but I hear the voice, and I’m certain I know who it belongs to.
“I’m so s-sorry. I d-didn’t know where else t-to go.”
Why in the world is Seraphine crying?