Chapter 7
Ifind one thousand dollars in Gavin’s pocket. It’s more than he’s ever left behind in a single night.
Setting the cash on his bathroom counter, he’s not going to catch me in that trap, I sort through the rest of his clothes. His suits get set in the pile for dry cleaning, and T-shirts, socks and underwear, I wash.
But as busy as I am, my mind keeps going back to the cash on the counter, and I get more pissed off each time.
“Asshole.” He had to have set that money there on purpose. Seems like something a devious man like him would do. What was he expecting from me? That I’d take it? What would he force me to do then? Give him another week?
God. I’m not sure I’ll survive this week.
“I want your hair up when I return,” he said.
I lift my eyes to the reflection in the mirror above the sink. Just as the master of the house ordered, I put my hair in a ponytail. As I did, I recalled the heat in his gaze when he released it last night. It was as if my hair alone brought out something primal in him.
And that kiss…
No one has ever kissed me that way before, with so much hunger I felt consumed. I inhaled him into my lungs and poured myself into his with every exhale, until I was left unable to breathe on my own.
He promised not to touch me, but that kiss was more intimate than anything else he could have done to me last night. I couldn’t sleep after that, couldn’t get it out of my mind.
“It’s like he’s hell bent on making me miserable!” I grumble.
With each passing hour, I grew more restless, my mind going between worry for Lola, and that fucking kiss and my reaction to it. Because that worries me too.
I’m not sure what time I finally drifted off to sleep, but when I did, it was only to dream of Gavin. I was a bird and he had me in a golden cage with the door wide open. Even though I had the power to fly away and free myself, I stayed inside because he promised me something. I don’t know what it was, or at least I can’t recall now, but in my dream, I knew it was something special.
So, I remained on my little swing and waited for him.
Then I opened my eyes and he was in the cage with me. He peered down at me with that same heat that had nearly scorched me, and I wondered if he was there to fulfill the promise he made.
It was all so surreal. The way he touched me, lifting my shirt to expose my breasts.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he caressed me.
“Are you going to fuck me now?” The sound of my own voice, a woman’s voice and not a bird’s chirp, made me realize it wasn’t a dream at all.
But before he could see the embarrassed flush that crept over my body, I was saved by a text.
That’s the first time I’ve ever had to take a cold shower. Damn it. For years, I’ve wondered if I would ever be able to experience what other women do in bed. Now, I’m afraid I might.
“You are so fucked,” I say to myself as I grab the bag of dirty clothes.
After starting the wash, I go into the kitchen to figure out what the hell to make for Gavin. I’ve cleaned the cabinets and fridge many times, so I’m aware of the types of foods kept there. Caviar, moldy cheeses, and cuts of meat that cost more than I make in a month. Everything Lola would turn her nose up at, therefore, I’d never dream of having in my house even if I could afford it.
There are fresh spaghetti noodles in the fridge, but no premade sauce. I’ve never made it from scratch, but there are tomatoes and some herbs.
I tug my phone from my pocket and search for an easy recipe, all the while I huff because cooking is one of my least favorite things. It’s right next to being imprisoned.
“Who doesn’t have canned tomatoes?” I pull out a large cookie sheet to roast my veggies on. “This is going to take forever.”
But it’s only one in the afternoon. I practically have forever.
An hour later, I take a break from cooking to video chat with Lola. I missed her this morning. By the time I woke up she’d already gone to school.
“Hi, baby,” I say.
“Hi,” she replies, but I can tell she’s pissed. She rolls her eyes and glances away from the screen.
Miri told me she cried, which made me cry too. I still want to cry.
“I miss you, baby.” I get choked up, wishing I could be there right now.
She glares at me. “Then why’d you leave.”
“I got a great offer. It’s a bonus. I’ll be able to get you new sneakers and the chessboard you’ve been asking for.” When she looks away again, I slump against the counter. “I promise it will be worth it. And we can talk every morning and evenings.”
“Will we be able to get a kitten?”
Taken aback by the question, I laugh. “What?”
“A kitten. You told me last year that if you ever got a bonus, we could get a kitten.”
“I agreed to a cat? When did I do that?” I would never.
“You were paying bills on your laptop and I asked and you said yes.”
I shake my head. Smart kid, asking me when I’m distracted doing another one of my least favorite things. “Well, crap.”
“So, we’re getting a kitten, right?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I nod, and even though I’ll probably regret it, the squeal of sheer delight that explodes from her makes me smile. If it gives her something to look forward to, I’ll do it.
Anything for her.
* * *
The sauce smells heavenly. Tastes even better. Guess all that talk about making stuff from scratch is true. All that’s left now are the noodles, which I will pop in boiling water closer to when Gavin is supposed to be home.
With that done, I tidy up the kitchen and move on. I’m usually only here four days a week. It gives me more than enough hours to maintain this place, even with the added task of cooking, especially when it’s just one man living here. I’m not sure what I’ll do with so much time.
I go from room to room, searching for something that hasn’t been done in a while. All the bathrooms are spotless, the stack of clothes to iron done. The last room I take a peek in is the office. Or I suppose calling it a library would work too.
Gavin likes to read and nowhere else does it show better than in here. Two entire walls have built-in shelves filled with hundreds of books. Nothing I would generally read, mainly because I don’t enjoy it. But I like the way it feels to be surrounded by them. The way it makes such a contemporary and minimalistic space cozier.
Maybe I’ve likened it to him in some way. The entire house seems cold, while the heart of it has warmth and layers. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.
There are a few books that have been left on a small table by a green vintage leather chair facing a modern electric fireplace. A glass with what appears to be the remnants of whiskey is set beside the coaster, and sweat has beaded down its side and formed a pool of moisture that seeped into one of the covers.
“Shit,” I pick up the book and wipe it. He’s ruined so many pages this way, and because I rarely spoke with him in the past, I didn’t have the guts to ask him to use the coaster. Instead, I made sure to have one always there. It made no difference.
Now, however, I’ll be sharing a lot more with him. My bed included. Telling him to use a coaster should be easier. Doubt he’ll listen though.
As I walk the books to their place on the shelves, I read the titles. All of them are books on how to become a better person, a more effective leader and how to achieve success. Ways to become master of your life. How to take control of your destiny.
I stare at that last one. It wouldn’t hurt for me to read it, who knows, it could be the start to a new passion. So, I set it aside. The others, I slide into the empty slots on the shelves. That’s when I notice the slight dust accumulated on them and figure out what I can do next.
Grabbing the step ladder and a microfiber cloth, I get to work. First, I dust all the bookshelves that line one of the walls, taking my time with every knickknack I come across. Then I move to the other side of the office. I’ve just reached the top of the stepladder and begin with the upper ones, when I hear a sound near the entrance.
I whirl to find Gavin leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and his intense stare roving over me.
“You’re back early,” I say breathlessly, my heart suddenly pounding a mile a minute.
He lifts his eyes from my white sneakers, slowly dragging them up to my face. “My schedule was cleared. Don’t stop on my account,” he tells me when I go to step off. “Please, go on.”
Without removing his gaze from me, he pushes off the doorway and walks around his desk, where he drops into his chair.
I bite my lower lip anxiously. “I can come back later. Surely I’d just distract you.”
“If I wanted you to go, I’d have told you to. Stay. I want the distraction.” He sits back into a relaxed position that tells me he’s getting confrontable to watch me.
Swallowing hard, I turn back to my work. The awareness of his presence in the room makes it near impossible to breathe, much less move. His attention is so palpable, that I lose track of what I’m doing.
The swish of the dust cloth becomes nothing more than background noise as the beating of my heart drums loudly in my ears. A beat that stops abruptly when I hear his chair squeak.
“My book got wet,” he says.
I look at him over my shoulder. He’s gotten up and is leaning against the desk now, turning the book over in his hands.
“I found it on the table near the drink. The glass wasn’t on the coaster, so…”
He flicks a glance at me and his mouth quirks to one side. “Is that why you left the book out? Were you waiting for it to dry, or did you plan on taking it too? I saw you reading them.”
Frowning, I ask, “How long were you standing there?”
“A while.”
“You were watching me?” I can feel that rush of blood suffuse my skin and paint it pink.
I’m sure it’s visible, because he focuses on my chest and neck. “Am I allowed to?”
Hardly able to speak, I breathe, “Yes.”
His gaze intensifies. “Then, why have you stopped working?”
“I’m sorry.” I turn back to the shelves, but can’t remember what I’ve already done. It’s all been a blur since he came in.
I lift my hand to wipe something, anything, but when he steps nearer, I go blank. The only thing I’m aware is that he’s so close, I can hear his breathing.
When his hands make contact with my hips, I’m not surprised, yet the touch still makes me jump.
“Why are you shaking, Andie?”
Looking over my shoulder at him again, I say, “Because you’re touching me.”
“You knew I would.”
“Yes.”
“Was your screening done?” He’s staring at my ass as if he’s measuring the value of some artifact and it makes me self-conscious as fuck to think he’ll find it not worth what he’s paid. But when I clear my throat and attempt to move, he holds me firmly.
“No one came by,” I say.
“Fuck.” His eyes flick to mine and his jaw works furiously as if he’s debating something. He nods, though I don’t believe it’s meant for me. “You’ve tortured me long enough.”
“I… I don’t?—”
“Bend over,” he orders.
I blink at him, my heart pounding in my throat. “I?—”
“Bend over, Miss Burrows.”
Swallowing hard, I face forward and do as he says. I bend at the waist and brace my hands against the handle of the stepstool.
One of Gavin’s hands comes around me to the front of my jeans and unbuttons them. After he pulls down the zipper, he hooks each of his thumbs to a belt loop and oh so slowly tugs my jeans over my butt, bringing my panties with them to the spot where my ass meets my legs.
My eyes widen as cool air hits my bottom. Everything seems to go so quiet, everything but the rustling of his clothes as he moves slightly. And when I feel the heat of his breath on my skin, my vision seems to dim too.
Every atom of my being is hyperaware of only him and the heat he’s creating between my legs as he reverently caresses my right cheek. I bite back a moan when he moves to the other.
“You have a beautiful ass, Miss Burrows,” he whisper-growls. “And now it’s mine.”
The sting of his teeth against my skin prevents me from replying, not that I could form any words. He nips and kisses his way closer to my center, giving me one hard bite before pulling away slightly.
He runs the tip of his finger over my crack, from my anus to where my underwear still clings to me. When he tugs them farther down, exposing my entrance, I let out a small desperate mewl. Because I’m wet and swollen and I’ve never been so turned on from someone simply looking at me.
“Don’t move,” he says. Then his face is pressed to my cheeks and his tongue slips between my folds at the same time as he inhales. He groans as if he’s never tasted anything better, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips.
But it’s when he thrusts a finger into me, instantly finding that inner spot to rub at the same time as he frantically licks my clitoris, forcing me into a climax I didn’t expect so fast, that I lose my balance.
Before I can teeter over the handrail, he’s got a hold of my shoulder, his finger still wresting pleasure from me.
The sounds that emanate from my mouth are foreign to me. Cries that shame me because they’re so uncontrolled and loud, but I can’t help them.
In the distance, I hear a belt being undone and a zipper. I’m still coming when Gavin snakes a hand upward and fists my ponytail and tugs, forcing me to step down one level and arch my back. When I do, he plunges his entire length and girth into me.
I’m robbed of breath instantly and though my mouth is wide open, my cries die on my lips.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growls. “So fucking tight.” He tugs on my hair harder, until his lips meet the shell of my ear. “And you’re all mine.”
“Yes,” I gasp when I’m finally able to inhale.
Tears spring from my eyes as he pounds into me and stretches me in a way that hurts so good. It’s an overwhelming sensation, being filled this way. Like I’m going to be split in two, but I’m desperate for it to happen.
And when he uses my ponytail to control the position of my head, making me tilt it so that he can bite down on the skin of my neck, I come again.
My world turns upside down and I shut my eyes as I let go. I fall and I don’t give a shit. All that matters is this explosion inside me.
Gavin catches me, however. His arms come around me tightly as he reaches his own climax with a groan.
We remain like that for a bit, with me on the first step of the stool and him inside me.
He chuckles, and even though we just finished doing what we did, it warms me in a way that should be illegal.
“I’ve been dying to do that to you,” he says.
“To fuck me on a step stool?” My brows pinch together as I look at him. “That’s been a fantasy of yours?”
“One of many.”
“Did the real thing measure up?” I ask, and I hate that his reply matters. So, before he can answer, I ask another question. “What else do you have in store for me?”
The wicked grin that spreads across his face is another thing that should be illegal. “You’re going to find out.”