Chapter 5 – Silas
5
SILAS
I look over the spread of goodies I ordered for our dinner tonight and think I might have gone overboard. I broke down and texted my sister to ask her what Georgie’s favorite foods were. When she said Italian, I knew I had to order from Villa West, a nice little hole in the wall Italian place just down the street from my penthouse.
Of course, I’m pretty sure the family style lasagna, fettuccine Alfredo, and chicken marsala, along with the garlic knots, salad, and dessert might be a little much, but I wanted to make sure she had what she wanted.
My cock jolts at the sound of my doorbell. It isn’t like I didn’t know she was on her way up, since the doorman alerted me. I’m acting like a fool, and I lay the blame at the feet of my “girlfriend.” From the moment that I saw her in my sister’s office, I’ve been acting weird. Even knowing that I am being that way, I can’t stop myself.
The buzzer sounds again, and I realize I’m standing there staring off into space. Jesus. I adjust my cock to make it less noticeable, at least I hope so, and make my way over to the door. When I finally get to the door, I open it and my hands are clammy. Like I’m thirteen and have my first crush. Not that I would know about that, because I never really paid attention to girls. I didn’t have the time with my schooling. But now, I feel out of my league, unable to keep my mind on anything but this tiny woman.
When the door opens, her eyes widen, then her gaze travels down my body. I feel it as if she put her hands on me.
“Hey, Mr.—”
“You need to call me Silas. Momzilla will think it’s weird if you call me by my surname.”
She nods and I step back.
“Come on in.”
She dressed down, as I told her to, in a pair of jeans that are molded to her very cute ass. Seriously, if there was a discussion on how to make asses, they could use her as a model. It’s a perfect heart shape, and I can imagine bending her over and taking her from behind.
She turns and I force my gaze up, so she doesn’t know that I’ve been staring at her ass.
“It smells like Villa West in here.”
I smile. “I ordered from them. It’s my favorite place to get pasta.”
I lead her over to the table and her eyes widen once again as she takes in the food.
“Uh, this is a lot of food, Mr.…” she pauses when I growl. “Silas. This is a lot of food, Silas. It will go to waste.”
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered a little of everything. Let’s eat and then we can talk about the weekend.”
She nods and fills her plate. She isn’t shy about it either, and I start to wonder how much we pay her. She seems to be preoccupied with money in a way that seems she doesn’t earn a livable wage.
I know Hazel said Georgie needed the money for some kind of bills, but she was vague about the reason. Once we both have food, we settle at the breakfast bar in the kitchen.
“This is a nice apartment.”
I glance around and shrug. “I picked it because I can walk to work. I hate dealing with traffic.”
“I bet Hazel did all the decorating,” she says, giving me a shy smile.
Jesus, I want to kiss her. My body vibrates with the need to press my mouth to hers. I don’t do it, of course, but I can’t get the urge out of my system.
Will I ever?
“Silas, are you okay?”
I raise my gaze to look into her clear green eyes. They are turned up slightly at the corners and she wears little makeup. She doesn’t need much makeup. I would really hate if I couldn’t see the cute little freckles that dance over her nose and across her cheeks.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Even I hear the arousal in my voice, but she doesn’t seem to notice it. That or she’s better at hiding her feelings than I thought.
“This is amazing,” she says, as she slips some fettuccine into her mouth.
God, her mouth. It’s…that overbite is going to kill me.
“I take it you like Villa West.”
She smiles at me as she sips her wine. “It’s my favorite place to eat. I don’t get to go that often.”
I nod as I bite back the need to demand more information. Why doesn’t she go more often? Why is she having to do this when I know she earns a good living with Prescott? Mentally, I make a note to make sure she gets a raise.
And then there is my last question: How the hell am I going to keep my hands off her all weekend? Of course, I don’t ask any of those questions, and we eat our meal, learning a bit more about each other.
“So, Hazel says you don’t have any family?”
She nods. “My dad died when I was in grade school, drunk driver. Mom died a few years ago.”
She scoops up another bite of pasta and I lose my train of thought. All I can see is that mouth of hers wrapped around my dick as she sucks me off. My jeans grow tighter, and I have to bite back a groan. I shift my weight to ease the pressure, but nothing seems to be working.
What were we talking about? Oh, family.
“No aunts or uncles?”
She shakes her head as she swallows her pasta. “Mom and Dad were only children themselves, and my grandparents all died when I was young.”
She doesn’t seem broken by it, but how does one exist like that? Alone in the world.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
My eyes widen as I take in her frown. “Like what?”
“Pity. I hate pity.”
From her hard tone, I can tell it is a big deal for her. “I don’t pity you.”
“Yes, you do. People always seem to think there is something pitiful about a woman alone in the world.”
I shake my head. “I actually find it admirable. I know that I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for my family.”
There is a beat of silence, then she offers me another shy smile. “Thanks. And you would definitely be doing just as well without your family.”
I shake my head. “Truth is, without their resources, I wouldn’t have done as well.”
She rolls her eyes. “You graduated high school at the age of sixteen and college at the age of nineteen. I have a feeling you would have done just as well.”
“I had problems in school, you know.”
She frowns. “What kind of problems?”
I shrug. “I was bullied a lot, of course because I was smart and well, you’ve seen my social skills.”
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with your social skills.”
Her adamant tone has me leaning closer to brush my mouth over hers. She hums a little at the simple touch of our lips. Everything in me tells me to deepen the kiss, to slip my tongue inside of her mouth and taste her.
But I pull back — giving her space for now.
She lifts her fingers to her lips. “Why did you do that?”
“As a thank you. I think you might be the only person who doesn’t think I’m weird—and that includes my family.”
She offers me a blinding smile. “Oh, you’re weird, but then so am I. I mean, I can figure out complex math equations without pen and paper. Or a calculator. Besides, as my mother always said, who wants to be normal? Normal is boring.”
She digs into her food again as if she hadn’t just said something earth shattering.
I was worried about falling for her. She’s sweet and sexy, with a personality that just spreads happiness like glitter. She’s a sexy little fairy with an overbite that is killing me, and I have a need to possess her in ways I have never thought about a woman before. But with that one little statement from her, I realize I am head over heels in love with the woman—and I’m not sure what to do about it.