Sweet Cheeks: Sweet Enough To Eat Series

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Sweet Cheeks: Sweet Enough To Eat Series Page 2

by Turner, Olivia T.


  He looks a little confused as I spin on my heels and turn away. My heart is thumping as I get into the elevators and rise back up to my floor.

  I close my eyes and slump against the mirror, wondering where she is, wondering if she’s okay. I hate that she’s out there in this big city and I don’t know exactly where. Once I get her back, I’ll be keeping a close eye on her from that moment on. She can be sure of that. There’s no way I’m going to be letting her run freely around other men. Not when she belongs to me.

  Katie gives me an awkward smile as I walk back into the office, but I just ignore her and head back to my office. The rose is in my hands. At least I have this. A piece of her, even if it’s a small one.

  “Is everything okay?” Annie asks as I walk back to my office.

  “Get your husband on the line,” I snap.

  I never snap at her. She’s a great secretary and deserves better, but it’s the only form of communication I’m capable of right now. It’s like this girl has untapped my primal side. She’s unleashed the barbarian within me and I can’t put him back.

  “My husband?” Annie repeats, looking confused as I step into my office.

  “Now!” I hiss and then slam my office door closed behind me.

  I slump down onto my chair, feeling like I want to cry as I drop my head into my hands. I still can’t believe that I lost her.

  The intercom on my phone clicks on. “Sir? My husband Walter is on the line.”

  “Hello?” Walter asks. “Mr. London?”

  “Give me the name of the flower shop where you ordered those roses from?”

  He laughs. “Are they nice? I hope it made my wife happy because I—”

  “Give me the name!” I snap. Fuck, I’m not feeling like myself. What has this girl done to me?

  What have I become?

  He quickly gives me the name and phone number and I hang up before he can say another word.

  My pulse is racing as I run my finger over the numbers. The numbers that will bring her back to me.

  I dial them and chew on the back of my pen as it rings.

  “Carson’s Flowers,” the guy on the other end says. “How can I help you?”

  “The girl that was here,” I say in a battered scratchy voice. Why is it so hard to talk? “The delivery on Sixth Ave. The red roses. Who is she?”

  “Hailey? She’s my daughter,” the man says. Hailey. God, that’s the prettiest name I’ve ever heard. I’m already in love. “What about her? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine,” I tell him and I mean it. She’ll be taken care of in every way for the rest of her life. She’ll always be okay from now on. “I just…” I’m trying to figure out the best way to do this. I can’t exactly tell her father to send her over to me because I want to marry her. I am a complete stranger after all.

  I clear my throat and try to start over. “I would like to order some flowers,” I say. “Red roses. Six dozen of them.”

  His voice picks up and he gets all excited.

  “But I want Hailey to deliver them,” I say in a firm unwavering voice. “It has to be her.”

  “You got it,” he says and then he asks for my credit card information. “I’ll have her bring them right over. Seventy-two beautiful roses for your girlfriend? Wife?”

  “My soulmate.”

  He chuckles. “Either way, you’ll have a very happy girl on your hands.”

  “I hope so,” I say as I hang up the phone.

  If she’s not happy now, she will be eventually. This sweet girl belongs on my lap with my possessive arms around her. She might not know it now, but she’ll know it soon enough.

  I lean back in my chair and look at the rose lying on my desk.

  Just knowing that her hands were all over the long stem and the soft red petals is getting my cock rock hard.

  I lean forward and slam the button for my phone’s intercom.

  “Annie, cancel all my appointments.”

  My secretary sounds shocked. “But sir, you have the Prince of—”

  “I don’t care,” I snap back. “Cancel it all.”

  I yank the plug out of the phone and am already unbuckling my belt as I hit the button that lowers the blinds. They descend over the windows, blocking the outside world around me.

  My cock is throbbing. It’s rock hard and aching.

  I pull it out and watch as a single bead of pre-cum oozes from the slit at the top and runs down my thick shaft.

  I’m dying to touch myself. It’s all I can think about.

  But I make myself wait. I make myself suffer.

  With Hailey on the back of my eyelids, I take the rose and slide the smooth petals up my stiff dick. I shiver when I think that this softness is what her pussy is going to feel like. I can’t wait to feel it clamped around my cock.

  I can’t hold it back any longer. With a grunt, I grab my hard dick and start stroking. I stroke until my forearm burns and I’m gritting my teeth as cum spurts out everywhere.

  I’m gasping for air and slumped down in my chair as I see the cum on the rose petals.

  It’s coated.

  Just like she will be.

  Once she gets here really soon…

  Chapter Three

  Hailey

  “Six dozen roses?” I ask, staring at my dad in shock. “But I was just there.”

  He’s buzzing around the shop happily grabbing all the roses he can. This means we won’t have to throw out any wilting inventory which is great.

  I start collecting the roses from him and begin to wrap them up, twelve at a time. My mind wanders back to the office, back to the powerful man behind the desk.

  I wonder what type of girl he would go out with. Perhaps a high-powered lawyer, maybe a celebrity, probably a model. I sigh as I tie the first dozen roses up and engulf them in wax paper.

  “Add more baby’s breath,” my father says when he looks over my shoulder. “We don’t want to cheap out on baby’s breath with an order this big.”

  My older sister Kara comes down and immediately starts helping my dad. The three of us live in the small two-bedroom apartment over the shop. You might think it’s pretty pathetic that I’m still sharing a room with my sister, and believe me, I’d have to agree. But my father needs us to help him work, so what can we do?

  Sometimes, we lay awake at night and talk about all the places we’re going to go. We talk about the romantic love affairs we’re destined to have. The adventure our lives will be.

  Then, in the morning, we shove those desires for more down into the depths of our gut where they belong and get back to work. Because although fairy tales are nice, real life doesn’t work like that.

  “This is a huge order,” Kara says as she drops another dozen roses on the table. “Is it Mrs. Swanson?”

  Mrs. Swanson is our best client. She’s obsessed with flowers and likes her Manhattan condo looking like the Garden of Eden. Sometimes it feels like she’s the only thing keeping our business alive. God forbid if she ever moves or falls into the subway.

  We’d be toast.

  “Not Mrs. Swanson,” my dad says as he inspects our work. He nods in approval. The master has taught us well. “A new client in the building where Hailey just dropped off an order.”

  My skin tightens and every little hair on my arms raise as his words sink in.

  “Which floor?” I ask. My voice is already husky.

  Kara looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

  I clear my throat and try to act all nonchalant. “Sore throat,” I mutter. She shrugs and gets back to her roses.

  “Forty-second,” he says.

  My heart starts racing. Floods of warmth fill me up, taking my body over as I stare down at the roses with unfocused eyes.

  Was it the receptionist trying to make it look like she has a man who loves her? Or, was it someone else…

  “Hailey just biked all the way there,” Kara says. “I’ll bring them this time.”

  “No!” I snap. Both my dad and Kara
stop what they’re doing and stare at me in shock. “I mean, it’s my route. I can do it.”

  I turn back to the flowers with my cheeks blushing and feel their eyes slowly dropping away from me.

  “We’re going to have to take the van for this one,” my dad says. “I don’t think Hailey can carry all of this on her bike.”

  If it meant that I got to see Mr. London all by myself, then I would. I would strap them to my back like a sherpa and start pedaling my ass off.

  “I’ll go with you,” Kara says.

  “Me too,” I quickly add. “I mean, you stay here, Kara. I got this.”

  She seems to read from my panicky eyes that I have a new crush and agrees to stay behind.

  Thank God…

  Because I was willing to fight her to the death to go.

  * * *

  “Hey!” the security guard shouts as he comes rushing out of the building. “You can’t park here!”

  It’s the same guy as before. The one who I gave the rose to, only it’s gone from his pocket. I’m not surprised about that.

  He takes one look at me and his eyes go wide with panic. His feet skid to a stop and he looks terrified as he turns back.

  “We’ll just be a minute,” I tell him as he hurries back to the door.

  “That’s fine!” he shouts as he yanks the front door open. “Park wherever you’d like!”

  He disappears inside and my dad looks at me with a shrug.

  “That was weird,” I say, looking at him funny.

  My dad just gets back to work and collects all of the flowers, handing me three of the six dozen.

  “This place is nice,” he says when we head inside. My security guard friend is nowhere to be seen.

  We head up the elevators with the flowers and I’m all quick breaths and sweaty palms when we arrive on the forty-second floor.

  “Oh, you got to be kidding me,” the receptionist says, looking more annoyed than ever. “Who’s that for?”

  I guess she didn’t order it for herself.

  “That’s for Mr. London,” Mrs. Graham says as she appears out of nowhere. “This way please.”

  She starts grinning as she checks out the flowers on our way back to her desk.

  “Mrs. London is a lucky lady,” I say as my heart sinks.

  “There is no Mrs. London,” she whispers to me. “I thought he was single, but I guess he’s met someone.”

  “Lucky girl,” I whisper to myself. It’s not loud enough for her to hear.

  “Let’s just bring them into his office.”

  I try to sneak a peek into the window like I did before, but his blinds are down. My stomach churns nervously. What if she’s inside?

  A part of me wants to see what kind of classy broad can snatch up a guy like him, but a bigger part of me doesn’t want to see. I don’t want to have my heart twisted up like a dog’s chew toy. No thank you.

  She picks up the phone and calls him. “Mr. London, your flowers are here.”

  “Come in.” I hear the faint sound of his voice answering, but even from here I can feel the power and authority in it.

  I’m shivering with nervous excitement as she opens the door and we step inside. His office is gorgeous. Thick expensive wood, real oil paintings, furniture that is pure luxury, and a view of Manhattan that belongs on a postcard.

  But my darting eyes quickly settle on him.

  Mr. London is sitting behind his desk with his dark brown eyes fixated on me. He doesn’t look away, even when he answers Mrs. Graham when she asks him where he would like the red roses.

  “Put them on my desk,” he says in a low gravelly voice that sends shivers tingling through me.

  I walk forward with a tremble in my step, completely aware that his eyes haven’t left me yet.

  I keep darting shy nervous glances at him and swallowing hard every time I see him still staring.

  God, he’s even hotter up close. Even my dad does a double-take when he sees him.

  Mr. London’s muscular arms are swelling out against the expensive suit jacket he’s wearing and the top of his shirt is unbuttoned, showing off his sexy chest. My fingertips start tingling as I think about what it would be like to run them down his chest and over his stomach, which I can just tell is sculpted. I can’t see it with his shirt and the desk in the way, but I can tell. He’s just hard all over and I don’t think it stops there.

  His eyes are still on me as my dad starts taking the flowers out of the paper and making a big fuss over the order.

  “They’re beautiful flowers,” he says, rambling on. “The best. I sent you the best. I even threw in an extra six. Just as a thank you for your order.”

  Mr. London doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even seem to be listening.

  His eyes are focused intensely on me and it’s making me all flustered. I drop four roses on the ground and then start blushing wildly as I quickly pick them up.

  “They are gorgeous,” my dad says as he holds up a rose and twirls it in his fingers. He’s inspecting the petals and marveling at them like he hasn’t seen a gazillion flowers every single day for the past thirty years. “Your wife is going to be a very happy lady.”

  “I’m not married,” he says in a deep commanding voice.

  “Oh,” my dad says as he puts the rose back. “Girlfriend then.”

  He shakes his head. “Try again.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  His eyes slowly move off me onto my dad and I feel like I can breathe again. “No,” he says sharply. “They’re for the girl I have my eye on. The girl I’m going to make mine.”

  “Well,” my dad says as he opens the last dozen and pulls them out. “I hope she says yes. With these flowers, I can’t see how she won’t.”

  Mr. London’s fierce eyes turn back to me and I gulp. “Will you?” he asks me.

  My back straightens and I stare at him with wide eyes. “Me?”

  He slowly nods as he stares at me with a dark possessive gaze.

  “Will I w-what?”

  “Will you say yes?”

  He just stares at me as he waits for my answer. I’m not even sure what he’s asking. I must have missed some words in there, a phrase, a sentence, something… I’m not sure what’s happening right now. His dark eyes are locked on me and I can’t seem to think straight. I take a deep breath and run my sweaty palms along my jeans, but even that doesn’t help.

  “Well, we’ll let you be,” my father says, completely oblivious to what’s going on between us. Whatever is going on. “And please remember Carson Flowers the next time you’re in need of some beauty.”

  It’s our company’s motto. I came up with it.

  “I’m in need of some beauty right now,” he says as he looks me up and down. “You can go. She stays.”

  It’s crazy how this man doesn’t tiptoe around what he wants. He just goes for it. I’m still not sure if what he wants is me. How could it be? He’s this rich powerful alpha of a man and me, well, my socks and running shoes are soaked from riding my bike in February and I have a bad case of helmet hair.

  “She has to come back to work,” my father says, looking confused. I guess he’s been single so long that he can’t feel the electricity rippling through the room. He must be immune to it.

  Mr. London turns to my dad and leans back in his chair. “I would like to purchase your flower shop. Right now.”

  My dad’s eyes light up. I know the bills and all the work has been weighing on my dad lately. He wants out. I already knew that. The shop did us well for years, but now it’s like shackles trapping us to the rundown building. We all want to escape from it.

  “Are you in the flower business?” my father asks with a low voice. He’s not moving. He looks like he’s nervous that if he makes a sudden movement, the offer will scurry out the door.

  “Dad,” I say to him with a roll of my eyes. “Does he look like he’s in the flower business?”

  My father surveys Mr. London’s luxurious office with the insane vie
w of Manhattan behind him and the expensive-looking suit on his hard body. “No,” he says, exhaling long and hard. “He doesn’t.”

  “I’m not in the flower business,” he says as he stands.

  I swallow hard as my eyes follow him up. He’s enormous. At least a foot taller than me and he looks like he can snap me in half with those big hands.

  This man should terrify me, but I feel nothing but excitement flowing through my body.

  “But when I see something I like, I have to have it.”

  My dad is still not catching on that the thing he wants is me.

  “And you want Carson Flowers?”

  He nods at him, but his eyes are locked on me. “I want it really bad.”

  My heart is racing, but it’s pumping out arousal, not fear.

  I can see my father fidgeting nervously out of the corner of my eyes. “Well, we would be open to… um, listening to… um, any offers on the table.”

  “How about two million dollars?”

  My jaw drops.

  So, does my dad’s. It takes him about 2.1 seconds to think it over. “I think that would be adequate.”

  “Good,” Mr. London says as he reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a check.

  My dad and I look at each other from across the room as he fills it out.

  “What the fuck,” my dad mouthes.

  “I know!” I mouth back.

  “Here you go,” Mr. London says as he rips off the check and hands it to my father.

  God, the brazen confidence of this man… he can just buy a company with the snap of his fingers. A company that my father spent his lifetime building. A company that he’s paying way too much for.

  My dad’s eyes are the size of silver dollars. “Is this real?”

  “Go to the bank and see for yourself.”

  “Okay,” my dad says as he heads to the door. “I will. Come on, Hailey.”

  “Not her,” Mr. London says. His voice is deep and holds an edge to it. “She stays with me.”

  My dad looks up from the check and stares at me with shocked eyes.

  “It’s okay, Dad. You go. I’ll see you back at home to celebrate.”

  He quickly shakes Mr. London’s hand and then rushes out of the office before any minds can be changed.

 

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