8. Maddie
MADDIE
S miling, a cup of coffee in one hand and the breeze from the bustling city blowing my hair back, I wait at the cross walk and think back on this past week. Showing up at Graham’s office was even better than the ‘good idea’ Suzette suggested, and so was the safe word.
When I walked in, he looked like he’d been starving.
Butterflies bat away in my chest at the memory, and my smile widens.
There’s no denying it, he’s into me. And I’m into him.
It’s hot and I don’t care what anyone else would think…
not that I’m shouting it from the rooftops or down the streets of New York City.
It still feels a little scandalous. A little forbidden. I never thought I’d trade my body for rent money. I also never thought I’d like it so much—this power-play thing that’s happening. I freaking love it.
I never thought I’d get addicted to the feeling.
I clear my throat and bury the thoughts away as a work text comes through. I have to pause on the street to answer it.
Even with what’s going on between Graham and me, I’ve been bringing my best to my job as Michael Davies’ new assistant.
Suzette made it sound like he just needed one secretary, but it turns out the company is large enough that the CEO has one lead secretary and three assistants.
I’m one of the three, and I’m going to stand out if it’s the last thing I do.
With the text sent, I take a sip of much needed caffeine and continue on, my heels clicking and my confidence rising higher and higher.
It’s easier not to think of Graham when I’m actively taking notes, making copies, and answering emails, but every time my mind wanders…
There he is.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t struggle with it at first. The arrangement we made where he took care of my rent had been illicit, something people only do in secret, and I knew I shouldn’t go running back once I could handle the rent on my own.
But I wanted him.
I wanted more of him. More of that naughty, illicit feeling.
I wanted to do something dirty. I won’t lie, the idea of crawling to him makes me hotter than I thought it ever would.
Yet, there’s another side that has me questioning if this is wise.
It was more , and sweeter, and when he’d admitted he wanted me to be there for him— just for him and nobody else—my heart almost flew out of my chest. I wonder if he knows how needy he looked at that moment.
I’m not going to tell him. Graham is handsome and charming and rich, and he doesn’t want people to know he needs anything.
But there’s a piece of him that’s missing something, and I know I can be that.
And I am enjoying every second of it…I’m just a little nervous that I’m the one who’s going to fall head over heels and I’m the one who’s going to get my heart broken again.
At that thought, I catch him outside walking like he’s coming back from a coffee shop, a to-go cup in his hand.
“Isn’t it late for coffee?” I call from the crosswalk, a smirk on my face as I toss my own cup into the metal trash can.
Graham looks over at me, not seeming very surprised that we’re running into each other.
After all, the past few days we have and I’m starting to think it’s because he knows my schedule and he’s waiting for me.
His handsome eyes rake down my dress and my body heats.
As they lift to mine, he smirks and responds, “Needed a pick-me-up.”
“You’re going to be up all night,” I tease, twining my fingers together to keep from playing with his tie. It’s a dark navy silk number and it suits him well in his crisp gray suit.
He raises his eyebrows. “What’s wrong with staying up all night?” His voice is low, throaty, and I love it.
“A man with as much work to do as you have needs his beauty sleep.”
“Hmm.” He looks down at me just as the wind takes a lock of hair out of the clip I’ve had it in. He catches it with his finger and tucks it back behind my ear. His touch is like fire and I lean into it. “What are your plans for the evening? Maybe you could help me take the edge off.”
“I don’t have any,” I tell him, my heart fluttering. “Did you have more work to do?”
“I do. A few things need tending to, but I take my work upstairs for the evening,” he says.
“Care to come up?” The tension between us grows with every passing second we walk to the building.
As we step into the elevator I have high hopes…
unfortunately it’s occupied by an elderly woman so I keep my distance and so does Graham, although our eyes catch in the reflection.
With every second, my heart beats a little harder and a little faster, but he doesn’t put his hands on me, not even as the woman steps out with a little hum and nod, and the two of us make our way to the penthouse.
It’s not lost on me that the first time I ever saw him was in this elevator. I catch him looking at our reflection as it whisks us up, and I bet he’s thinking the same thing.
Even as he steps out of the elevator with me following, he still hasn’t touched me. My steps halt before I make it even three steps in.
The view from his living room windows takes my breath away.
“This is stunning,” I breathe, unable to help myself as I look out over the city.
Graham comes up behind me and puts his hand on my lower back. My eyes close from the simple contact. I crave his touch like I didn't know I could. “It’s the same view you have, my little temptress.”
That nickname, with the warmth of his hand on my back, sends pleasant shivers all over my body and I’m all too aware my nipples harden. “It’s different up here,” I tell him, meeting his gorgeous eyes. A spark ignites and I sink my teeth down into my lower lip.
“Have you ever considered that it’s different because you’re here?”
“No.” I huff the smallest of laughs. “I’m sure it doesn’t matter where I am.”
“Yes, it does.” Graham looks down at me with intensity in his blue eyes. “It matters more than you think.”
I’m ready to crawl into his bed and never come out again, but I shake myself out of it. “Did you say you had work to do?”
Regret crosses his face, but he steels himself. “A few things before I’m done for the night.”
Graham’s penthouse is massive compared to mine.
No surprise, since his takes up the entire top floor and mine is only a small section floors below.
A large living room in the middle reminds me of mine, only it’s wider, with more understated furniture and built-in shelves underneath the floor to ceiling windows.
A small office is off to one side, and a hall leading into another section of the penthouse.
I can see through to his kitchen and peek into a dining room from here.
He waves his hand toward the right. “My bedroom is down that way.”
I resist asking him to take me there right now. If I had an hour alone in here, I’d have to explore, because there’s so much space and soft, tempting lighting, and I bet he has a private gym and a library, too.
Graham sits at a large, rounded sofa in his living room, his laptop on his lap. At first, I try to sit primly next to him, my feet on the floor and my dress, a simple cream pleated number smoothed over my legs. I kick my heels off and ready myself to tuck my legs under me.
But…
“Is it all right if I put my feet on the sofa?” I ask. I imagine it’s far more expensive than anything I’ve ever owned, and his entire place looks spotless. “This couch is too comfortable.”
“That’s why I bought it,” he says, a smile quirking his mouth. “Put your feet wherever you want.”
I tuck my feet up under me and find a blanket spread over the back of the couch. It’s lightweight and luxuriously soft, and it feels good to cover my legs.
“What has you working late?”
“Building my empire,” he says simply, then taps away at his keyboard for another few minutes. “But I want you here while I work,” he murmurs and then looks at me, “so I can have you after as a little reward.”
A blush heats my cheeks and I have to look away a moment. When I finally come to my senses I ask him, “A real-estate empire?”
“That’s the type.” Graham seems to hesitate, his typing getting slower. “I’m working on acquiring a property from a man who doesn’t want to sell it to me.”
“Why doesn’t he want to sell it to you?”
He laughs, the sound a quiet huff. “I don’t think he wants to sell it at all, but I can’t back down now.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve already spent weeks going back and forth in emails and lunch meetings and phone calls. I’m not willing to let it go now that I’ve made an investment.”
My face gets hot. I wonder if he thinks about me the same way—if I’m an investment that he’s made, and now wants to get his money’s worth. It’s as forbidden a thought as fucking him for rent money.
And…hot.
In a way. I shift on the sofa and he notices.
“You’re not an investment,” Graham says.
I startle next to him. “I didn’t…I would never say that…what?”
“Your cheeks got all pink.” He lifts a hand from his keyboard and brushes a knuckle over my cheekbone. “I took a guess that you were thinking of yourself as an investment.”
“Fine,” I admit. “I was...a little bit.”
“And what did you think about that?” he questions, his focus entirely on me.
I think…I’d like to be one of his investments. Sought after and taking his attention and focus. Even if it is just to be a reward at the end of a long workday. I think I’d love it.
“I think the idea of being acquired by you is sexy.” It takes everything in me to admit, but once it’s out, it’s more freeing than I thought the admission could be.
“Sexier than paying the rent?” Graham’s hand finds its way lower, under the blanket, and to the soft part of my inner thigh. I spread my legs just a little more for him.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I can barely say the word. My breath is coming too fast. “We could try both.”
“What’s your safe word, my naive temptress?”
“Red,” I say in a heated breath.