Chapter seven
~ADRIAN~
I sit at the kitchen island, sipping my morning coffee and skimming through work emails. The sleep leaves me with each sip as I curse myself for staying up way longer than I should have. When I finally went to bed, unwelcome thoughts of Elana invaded my mind.
I rise from the barstool, deciding to take matters into my own hands. I grab my phone tuck it into the pocket of my dress pants and head out of the kitchen.
Making my way upstairs, my irritation grows at each door I pass.
As I approach Elana’s door, my hand poised to knock, her voice reaches my ears from the other side of it.
Is she awake? Her voice reaches me again, and I can finally make out exactly what it is.
She’s fucking moaning! My brows furrow as my mind immediately jumps to the most logical conclusion.
Is she touching herself?
“Adrian,” I hear her softly through the door, and the sound of her moaning my name hits me square in the chest. My eyebrows shoot up, and I turn to look at the door as if I can see her through it. The little brat is getting herself off on me.
I feel my lips stretch into a smile, and before I know it, I’m grinning.
I close my eyes, and the image of her on the bed, legs spread wide and her hand between them, flashes in my mind.
Heat floods my body at the mere thought and a surge of electricity courses through me.
I shake my head, trying to banish the inappropriate images from my mind.
Another moan comes from the other side of the door, long and loud.
Is she this loud on purpose? I fist my hands until my knuckles are white.
Suddenly, I’m angry. Angry I can’t kick the door in and put my hand around that delicate throat of hers while I tell her to keep going and to look at me while she rubs herself.
If she’s fucking bold enough to do that in my house while being late for class, she’ll have to do it in under my gaze.
My cock presses against the constraints of my slacks, begging for more room to grow, and I almost slam my first into the door.
“Little cocktease,” I whisper through gritted teeth. The sound persists, growing louder and more fervent with each passing moment. I swallow hard as I take a step back from the door. I can’t stand listening to her moan without being in there myself. If she wants to be late for class, then so be it.
With a muttered curse under my breath, I hastily retreat down the hallway, my pulse still racing.
“Fucking touching herself to me under my fucking roof.” I rub my face and storm into my bedroom.
Why am I so angry? I look around, my clothes threatening to melt against my skin.
I’m furious because I want to be in there with her, and I’m not.
A cold shower seems like the only solution to clear my mind and quell the rising tide of desire that threatens to consume me.
I’m already taking my clothes off and throwing them on the floor on my way to the ensuite bathroom.
My cock springs out as I kick my pants away from me.
Fuck this shit. I step under the shower and brace myself as I slam the water button.
As the icy water cascades over my heated skin, I try to push the vivid images of Elana out of my mind. This is Ethan’s sister. Pull yourself together. I have no business entertaining such thoughts about her, and she has no business touching herself while thinking of me.
Yet, as the cold water washes away the lingering traces of arousal, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have her beneath me, to hear those same sounds of pleasure escaping her lips as I watch.
What does she look like when she falls apart?
How much will she beg if I don’t let her?
I shake my head, trying to dispel the tantalizing fantasies that refuse to be ignored.
Before I know it, my fist is around my throbbing cock.
“Fuck,” I hiss as I tighten my grip. No. I quickly release it.
I have to keep my distance from her. And I need to fuck someone. Today.
An hour later, I’m finally in my office. I’m trying to focus on work, but my mind keeps drifting back to Elana and that damn act she pulled this morning. Her moaning my name replays repeatedly in my head.
I didn’t wait for her to get out of bed; I just told Mac to take her to her classes. I couldn’t bear to face her after what I heard. I didn’t trust myself with what I’d say… or do.
As I’m lost in my thoughts, a knock on the door brings me back.
“Come in.”
Bethany walks in with my breakfast. Look who finally remembered to knock. She’s dressed in a gray dress that shows way too much cleavage. Her hair is in a tight bun, and her eyes glimmer with a hint of mischief. She sets the tray down on my desk with the sluttiest smile she can manage.
Eye-fucking me, are you?
The low rumbling of arousal still lingers, and the roar of frustration is still eating away deep in my chest. I look at Bethany, who takes slow steps towards me.
I just have to tell her to bend over my desk and she’ll do it before I’m even done saying it.
I blink, arousal clouding my thoughts. I’m not going anywhere near that woman.
The thought almost makes me shake my head in disgust.
“Your breakfast, Mr. Morgan,” she says, her voice smooth and seductive.
“Thank you.” I nod, trying to keep my tone neutral.
She flashes me a coy smile and leans in a little closer. Her breasts threaten to spill out of her dress, her perfume filling the air around me. “It’s my pleasure, Mr. Morgan. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Yeah, you can fuck off.
“No, you may leave.”
Her smile falters for a moment, but she quickly recovers and nods. “Of course, Mr. Morgan. Just let me know if you change your mind.” With one last lingering glance, she turns and heads towards the door, swaying her hips with deliberate grace.
As soon as she’s gone, I let out a frustrated sigh.
I look at the time. It’s almost nine. I hope Elana isn’t too late for class and she wasn’t too disappointed when she discovered I already left.
Why the hell do I even care? Because she’s Ethan’s sister.
The soft beep from my desk phone is followed by Melissa’s crisp voice.
“Mr. Morgan, Ms. Larson is on the line. She wishes to speak with you.”
Mia Larson? My gaze drifts to the painting on the wall, reminding me of the art exhibition I attended last week.
“Put her through,” I respond, my curiosity piqued.
“Mr. Morgan?” Mia’s voice fills the line, and I can’t help but notice the subtle warmth in her tone.
“Mia,” I respond. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
There’s a momentary pause, and I can almost hear the hesitation in her voice. What’s on your mind, Mia?
“It was so nice seeing you at the art exhibition last week, but I was sorry to see you leave so quickly,” she begins, and I raise an eyebrow, sensing where this conversation might be headed. “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner sometime soon?”
Ah, there it is. Mia Larson, always direct and persistent, much like her father. I weigh my options for a moment. A night out with Mia might be just what I need to distract myself from thoughts of Elana.
“Mr. Morgan?” There’s worry in her voice. “I apologize if it’s too bold of me—”
“It would be my pleasure,” I interrupt, my tone confident. “Are you available tonight?”
“Yes!” Her enthusiasm is obvious, even over the phone. “Is eight o’clock okay with you? I was thinking of one of my father’s restaurants, the one at the golf club.”
“Certainly,” I confirm. “Would you like me to pick you up?”
“I would love that, thank you.” There’s excitement in her voice. “I’ll send you the address.”
As I gather my things and prepare to leave the office for the day, my mind drifts back to Elana. I know her classes should have ended by now, and Mac would have taken her home long ago, but there’s a nagging curiosity about what she might be doing.
Thinking about you, hopefully? I wince at my thoughts as I step out of my office.
“Have a nice evening, Mr. Morgan.” Melissa stands and nods. “I made the dinner reservations for you and Ms. Larson, as you requested.”
“Thank you, Melissa. Go home. It’s late.”
“I will, sir,” Melissa replies. I glance over at Bethany, who, for the first time, isn’t looking at me. She’s glaring at something on her desk. Melissa elbows her softly, and Bethany’s eyes finally meet mine.
“Have a nice evening, Mr. Morgan.” There’s sadness in her voice. I’m guessing Melissa told her about my dinner plans. I fight the urge to remind her that my personal life is none of her concern and simply nod at them both.
I step into the elevator and take my phone out.
There’s a text from Ethan thanking me again.
He’d called me a bit earlier to let me know he’s all settled in his new apartment and even gave me a tour.
I smile at the memory of how excited he looked.
I push my phone back into my pocket and hesitate for a moment.
Should I cancel dinner with Mia? The thought flits through my mind, but I quickly dismiss it. I need to get Elana out of my head, and agreeing to go out with Mia is my attempt to do just that.
With a firm resolve, I make my way downstairs, where Mac is waiting by the car.
“Good evening, sir.” He greets me with a nod and opens the door for me.
“Evening, Mac.” I return the nod and slide inside the spacious backseat.
“Did you drop Elana off at the apartment?” I ask Mac once he joins me.
“Yes, sir,” Mac confirms with a respectful tone. “Ms. Turner asked if we could swing by a drive-through for some fast food on the way home.” He chuckles softly and shakes his head.
I suppress a scoff under my breath, a hint of displeasure tugging at the corners of my thoughts.
Fast food. There’s a ton of fresh food waiting for her at home, and yet she goes for fast food instead.
“We’re here, sir. I’ll be outside.” When we finally arrive at Mia’s apartment building, Mac steps out of the car with his usual efficiency and opens the door for her.
Mia emerges from the building, dressed in a form-fitting black dress that accentuates her curves.
Her hair cascades in soft waves around her shoulders, framing her face.
She gracefully slides into the car, and her gaze meets mine. She offers me her hand, and I bring it to my lips.
“Good evening, Mia.” I keep her hand in mine for a moment longer before gently releasing it.
“Good evening,” she greets me with a warm smile, and I detect excitement in her voice. “I’m delighted that you could join me tonight.”
“I’m delighted you called.”
Two hours later, we’re back where we started.
Dinner went well, better than expected. I hadn’t had a lighthearted conversation like that in a while.
Mia’s getting ready for another exhibition in Italy, but talk of work was quickly put to the side by the second glass of champagne.
Mia’s tipsy laughter still echoes in my mind.
I’m already out of the car, holding the door open for her with an extended hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Morgan,” Mia says as she steps out and puts her hand in mine, swaying slightly on her feet, “for a lovely evening.” She looks up at me with a mischievous glint in her eyes. This is the second time someone’s eye-fucked me today, only this time, I’m not complaining.
“It’s Adrian,” I remind her as I close the car door. “Mr. Morgan is a mouthful to moan, don’t you think?” And just like that, I’m reminded of Elana moaning my name this morning.
Fucking get out of my head.
Mia’s red lips part slightly as she inhales deeply. “Well, then,” her eyes darken as she takes a step closer to me, “Adrian, would you like to come up for a nightcap?”
The invitation hangs in the air between us, thick with sweet promise.
“Would you like me to?” I cock my head to the side.
“I would love you to,” she breathes.
“Mm, let’s see just how much,” I say, my voice low and husky, offering her my arm as we make our way into the building.
As soon as we’re inside her apartment, Mia closes the door behind us and turns to face me.
Without a word, my right arm snakes around her waist, and my other hand finds its way to her exposed neck.
Our lips crash in a heated kiss, and my fingers tighten around her throat, resulting in a deep moan climbing out of it.
I feel… nothing. Absolutely nothing. What’s happening?
I groan in frustration and cup Mia’s head to protect it when I push her against the wall rougher than I’d intended.
I put my thigh between her legs and push them apart as a gasp escapes her.
I deepen the kiss as if trying to dig out something I’m craving.
Something that isn’t there. Something blonde and green-eyed.
It’s not Mia I want. It’s the fucking houseguest back in my penthouse. The little beauty with lush lips and an adorable smile. My body doesn’t want anyone else. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I pull away from Mia, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath.
“Adrian?” Mia’s voice is filled with concern as she looks up at me, confusion etched on her flushed face.
“I can’t,” I say, my voice strained. I shake my head and take a step back, releasing her.
“Have I done something wrong?”
“Not at all.” I’m not sure if my words reassure her, but they’re all I’ve got.
“There’s someone else on your mind.” I’m surprised by her accuracy. A small, sad smile graces her lips. It’s my turn to look at her in confusion. My silence gives her the answer she needs. “It’s alright. I understand.” She places a hand on my upper arm.
I look down at her and narrow my eyes. She… understands? I thought she might kick me out, but here I am, having a damned therapy session with the woman I should be fucking right now. This has never happened to me before, and I don’t like it one goddamned bit.
Suddenly, she leans in, stepping on her tiptoes, and presses her soft lips to mine. I feel her hands cup my face for a second before she pulls away just as gently.
“Forgive me. I needed to steal one last kiss.”
I don’t regret tonight. This was inevitable, whether it was going to be Mia or someone else.
Although, I doubt I’d be met with the same understanding as Mia’s.
A bitter chuckle escapes my lips as I step out of the building.
As I slide into the car, Mac looks at me, perplexed.
He wasn’t expecting me to be back so soon.
“Sir? Is there a problem?” He turns to face me.
“Oh, Mac, you have no idea,” I murmur. It was bad enough for her to flood my mind, to possess every corner of it, but now my body knows it too.
“It’s early. Miss Turner is likely still up.” Mac smiles reassuringly.
“Take me home.”