by Kat Addams
Until now, I thought.
I turned the knob on the shower and cranked up the heat, resting against the back tiles. I remembered one of the times Samantha and I had showered here together. She had stayed with me one night, and we must have spent an hour in the shower. I had pushed her up against the tiles and held her close. Her hand had grabbed out at the knobs to steady herself while she propped one foot up on the seat and spread her legs. That had been hot as fuck.
We had both looked down and watched as I moved in and out of her. The way she had gasped as the hot water poured straight down between us still sent chills up my spine.
“Damn, that’s so hot!” she said.
“It is, isn’t it?”
We locked eyes, and she gave me a smile that I would never forget.
“It’s perfect. I love you. I feel—this feels … right. Oh-so good and oh-so right,” she muttered into my mouth.
I let the water wash over my face and rubbed my eyes. I, Victor Beaumont, was not crying.
Samantha
I had shut myself in my apartment over my Christmas break. I had loaded up on wine, store-bought Christmas cookies, and fuzzy socks. I had spent almost every Christmas alone since the divorce, and this one wouldn’t be any different—except it was different. Not only was I depressed, being alone on a holiday, but this time, I was also in love and alone. I missed Victor. No matter how busy I had kept myself to forget about him, he was still there, in the back of my mind—flailing noodles and wrestling masks included.
When he had texted this morning, I had become excited. I had wanted to ask him how his holiday was going, but I hadn’t let myself. I couldn’t get sucked back into his circus.
I grabbed a blanket and wrapped myself up in front of the TV, mindlessly flipping through channels. Every damn station had a love song or a family or a steamy sex scene airing. I tossed my remote on the table. It landed on top of the key—my key—that lay in the same place that Victor had left it.
Fuck it.
I took out my old, tattered suitcase and stuffed it with pajamas, blankets, books, candles, snacks, and wine. If I had to spend Christmas alone, I would at least spend it alone somewhere nice. The last thing I wanted to be around on Christmas was that dumb parrot and his flock of pervs.
I grabbed the key and turned it around in my palm. It felt heavy, like I held the weight of the world in my hand—or at least the weight of putting up with a Beaumont. I pocketed it, slipped my house shoes on, and drove to the Lakeview home. I switched off the radio. Every song that had played was lovey-dovey and joyous. I was not. I drove in silence.
When I arrived at my, his, whoever’s home, the sold sign still hung in the front yard. I wondered how the hell anyone could have pulled off buying a house outright. I knew Fleur-De-Lis was a big company that did well, but I’d had no idea Victor was that wealthy. A wave of guilt washed over me as I stepped inside my Christmas bonus.
The scent of fresh paint and an almost-sterile-like feeling caught me off guard. Victor had been right. This house wasn’t child-friendly at all. I was afraid to touch anything in here. I wandered from room to room, inspecting every inch and every corner. I’d already done this the first three times I looked at it, but now, it was mine. I owned it if I wanted it or not.
I looked up at the ceiling and sighed. This house was perfect—and empty. I dragged my blankets from the suitcase and set them up in front of the fireplace. I flipped the switch on the side and ignited the flames. The room began to heat up quickly, and my mood was instantly lifted. I never even had a fireplace, let alone one that was so easy to use.
I changed into my pajamas and curled up by the fire, grabbing my books and my phone. It was too early for the wine, but it was also Christmas, so … I grabbed it too. I unscrewed the cap and took a sip straight from the bottle. In my rush to get out of my apartment, I’d forgotten to bring wineglasses. Thankfully, no one was here to see my un-classy behavior. I was all alone—as usual.
I settled into my books and wine, dozing and reading, and drinking and snacking. My mind was devoid of all thought as I flipped through a book and lost myself in other people’s fictional lives. I peeled my pajamas off and let the heat of the fire wash over my body. The fur of the blanket tickled against my skin as I lay completely naked in front of the—my fireplace. This Christmas wasn’t turning out so bad.
I outstretched my arms over my head like a cat and arched my back. The heat of the fire felt so good against my naked body. I closed my eyes, falling into a light sleep before a knock on the door rudely awakened me. My heart plummeted into my stomach as I rolled myself into a human burrito and hopped toward the front entry.
Who the hell is interrupting my Christmas, party of one?
Victor Beaumont. That was who.
I cracked the door open and peered outside. He stood before me, dressed in a suit and tie and wearing that familiar devilish grin. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing that sexy little dip at the base of his neck that I loved to nuzzle into.
“Victor, what are you doing here? Come in.” I opened the door wider and hopped out of the way.
“That’s quite the getup. Is that some kind of snuggie?” Victor asked.
He stepped inside the doorframe and looked me up and down. My entire body flushed.
“Ha! No. I, erm … I was lying in front of the fire, naked, and didn’t expect company, so when you knocked, I just rolled the blanket over me.” I bit my lip and tried to shrug, but it didn’t work.
My burrito blanket might as well have been a straitjacket. I could barely move.
“You’re naked under there?” He took a step toward me, pausing. His pupils dilated, and his breathing changed, deepening. “I was coming home from dinner with my family. They always have Christmas at the lake house. I wanted to make sure everything was okay at your new home, so I decided to drive by. I saw a light on in the window and your car in the drive, so … I decided to pop in and say hi. I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have stopped. I just … couldn’t resist.” His feet inched closer and closer toward me.
“I didn’t plan on being here today. I was planning on doing my normal Christmas stuff at my apartment, but I needed a change of scenery.” I bobbed my body around in my tight burrito.
“What’s your normal Christmas stuff?” He peeked over my shoulder, no doubt seeing the empty bottle of wine, a dirty romance novel, and a few packages of cookies and chips lying about.
“Self-care?” I cast my eyes down to the floor, stopping only to glance at that package of his that I oh-so loved.
I watched it stiffen in his pants. He had the most reliable cock I’d ever seen.
“Well, I’m glad to see you here in your home.” He smiled. “I’ve missed you.”
“I know the feeling,” I breathed out. This burrito blanket was starting to suffocate me.
“Do you though? Do you know that every waking moment, I’m thinking of you? The feel of your lips on mine. The warmth of your skin on mine. The way you wrap your legs around my hips and pull me into you. The look you gave me that first night I drunkenly told you I loved you … and meant it—still do. The way you camel-clutched my cock while the crowd gave us a standing ovation. The way you fell asleep in my arms, and I didn’t ever want to let you go. Do you know that feeling? Because I do. I live it. Every moment you’ve been gone, I’ve lived it.” He stepped even closer to me, tracing the back of his hand down my burrito.
I am too drunk for this.
“Just this once. It’s just business.” I gasped as he picked me up in his arms and carried me to the fire.
With one quick movement, he sent me rolling across the floor, unraveling the blanket. For a second, I was dizzy—too dizzy. But that quickly changed when my eyes stopped rolling around in my head and landed straight on his cock, hard as ever and standing at attention. Damn, I’d missed that.
“All I want for Christmas is …” I spread my legs and smiled up at him as he threw off his shirt.
The ripples in his chest sent goose bumps over my flesh.
“A dick in the box,” he growled, lowering himself down to me.
I wrapped my thighs around his waist and hung on for dear life, just like he had told me that first time we did this.
“Ha! There’s no box—unf.” My eyes bulged as he shoved himself inside of me.
“Yeah, there is.” He grinned.
I ran my hands through his hair and let myself relax and enjoy the moment even if it was only business again.
He put his arm underneath me and held me to him tight, pausing to meet my eyes.
“Don’t let go. Don’t ever let go,” he whispered as he kissed the tip of my nose, my cheeks, my lashes, my lips.
I nuzzled my nose into his neck and clung to him.
It’s just business, I reminded myself as I shut my eyes. I wouldn’t let him see me cry.
The next morning, I woke up alone. Victor had snuck out at some point in the middle of the night. I was grateful he’d had the decency to do that. I didn’t know what I had been thinking when I fell straight back into his arms. He had known I needed the space, and yet he’d still shown up on my—or his—doorstep.
I grabbed my phone beside me and checked the time. A text notification from Victor flashed across my screen.
Four thirty in the morning! I glanced at the time stamp. He must have sent it as soon as he left.
Victor: I didn’t want to leave you, but I didn’t want to overstay my welcome either. Thank you for the wonderful Christmas. It was an amazing night that I’ll never forget. I’ll work with you shortly on Mardi Gras. It’s just business, right?
I didn’t respond. I mentally put Victor into the friend zone—the friends-with-benefits zone at least. Now, I only had to figure out how to stop loving him. I let out a cry that echoed throughout the walls of this empty house. I was alone again.
January had dragged on and on. Business had been slow, and I was back at my apartment—mostly. Weekends, I stayed at the Lakeview house to clear my mind and get away from the hustle and bustle of the city. But I hadn’t moved any furniture. I was still undecided about what I wanted to do with the house.
I hadn’t spoken to Victor since our holiday rendezvous. Lisa had helped me avoid him—at least until I came out of my funk. She had been handling both Sara and Victor for me while we planned the big Mardi Gras event. Thankfully, they both hadn’t been involved much—yet. Today could be a different story.
I swallowed hard, grabbed my work bag, and made my way inside Victor’s party palace—the same party palace that had hosted his Halloween event. I had to meet Lisa and a few vendors there today to go over finalizations for the event. Lisa had double-checked to make sure Sara and Victor would be too busy to drop in when I was there. She had told them we’d handle everything. I knew Victor would get the picture, but Sara, I wasn’t too sure about.
“Ready to get this show on the road?” Lisa handed me a box as soon as I came through the door.
“What’s this?” I set it down on a table.
“Masks. There’re boxes and boxes of them. All sorts. But this one is Mexican wrestling masks. No idea where that idea came from. You?” She peered down her nose at me.
“No. Why would I order wrestling masks for a Mardi Gras event? Must be a mix-up.” I put my palms in the air and shrugged.
“Hmm. Well, I’ll borrow two if you don’t mind. You know Malcolm and I have been going to that club I told you about. He just can’t get enough. Says he loves me.”
I flinched when she mentioned that he loved her. “Oh, wow. So, you two are still a thing? Do you love him too?”
“Damn it to Betsy, I guess I do. Can’t stop thinking about that Bozo and his squirt gun.”
“Squirt gun?” I shook my head. “Never mind. Take two of these masks and don’t tell me any details.”
She winked and pulled her fingertips across her mouth like she was zipping her mouth shut.
“Let’s get to unpacking all of this stuff then and set it where it needs to go. I don’t want to be here long.” I glanced around the room.
“I know you don’t. Come on. Let’s do it all in the back room. Away from all of this.” She nodded toward the workers setting up sound and lights and whatever else I could come up with and throw at this party.
This event would be my last-night hurrah. Working even these few short weeks for Victor had been nerve-racking. I couldn’t wait to get it over with and let myself heal. I couldn’t heal when I still worked for the man I loved. I had given in to my feelings and forced myself through heartbreak until I finished the job—no more Beaumonts after this.
“Long time no see. Guess you’ve been hiding from me?” Sara said when Lisa and I entered the back room.
“What are you doing here?” Lisa snarled. “Don’t you have something going on today with Victor?”
“I’ve got a lot going on with Victor.” She smiled. “He told me to tell you, Samantha, that he needs this event to be perfect, not like your circus. That one wasn’t good enough for him. New clients and all this time. I’m sure he will have some other requests. He asked me to his office to discuss later.”
I rolled my eyes. “Good for you. I’m sure Lisa and I can handle anything he would like. You can let him know that.”
Sara crossed her arms over her chest and watched us unpack.
“Is there something else?” Lisa tapped her fingers atop a box. “We’re busy.”
“Yes, actually, there is. William says hi.” Sara smirked again, her nose wrinkling into her usual stink face.
“You are such a—” Lisa started.
“No, Lisa. I got this.” I walked over to where Sara was standing and pulled my phone out of my pocket. “You know, Sara, you aren’t worth my time. You really aren’t. I couldn’t care less about you or William or Kelsey or anything and anyone you can throw at me. You can have Victor. I don’t care.” I tapped the audio button on my phone and replayed her sex noises with the neighbor next door.
Lisa covered her mouth with her palm.
“I don’t know what that is.” Sara quickly shook her head, like a bobblehead. Her chin bounced from side to side as we all heard her cry out Victor’s name from the recording.
“Give it to me.” She grabbed for my phone, but I backed up and blocked her.
“Look!” I showed her the audio clip and pressed Delete. “You mean nothing to me. I don’t fuck with you.” I slipped the phone back into my pocket and waved her away.
“Ladies.” Victor cleared his throat, stepping out from behind the open door of a closet.
“Mr. Beaumont,” Sara whispered.
Her face flushed a dangerous shade of red. I thought she might explode. I wished she would.
“Have you been there the whole time?” My tone was accusing, annoyed, and maybe a tad bit excited.
“I have been in here, going through some inventory. I did hear everything.” His brows pulled together. “Let me be clear about something. I did not say those things. The circus you two arranged was good enough for me. In fact, it was everything I’d imagined it would be—perfect.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Beaumont. I thought—” Sara stammered.
“You thought wrong,” he cut her off. His eyes jerked to hers as he pulled himself up to his full height and stiffened his shoulders. “That’s enough. Your behavior is completely unacceptable, and I’ll not have Fleur-De-Lis carry the image you’re projecting. You’re to vacate my premises immediately. I’ll call someone on my team to let you out. Go. Pack your things.” He stared a hole right through her.
My panties became wet.
Sara ran out, crying like a hyena. I kind of felt sorry for her. Kind of. Not really.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that. You two make a good team, and I’m proud of both of you.” He nodded to each of us and left.
My nipples hardened as I watched him walk away. His posture, his tone, his confidence—it all made me want to jump his bones right then and there. Som
etimes, maybe his business mask was a good thing.
“Well, squeeze my nuts. That was tense!” Lisa let out her breath. “And maybe even a little hot. I might be having a hot flash though. Don’t know.”
“Definitely not a hot flash. That man knows what he’s doing.” I was still watching him when he turned around for a split second, caught my gaze, and shot me that devilish grin. I quickly snuck two wrestling masks out of the box and stuffed them into my bag.
Twelve
Victor
With Sara gone, my life had become even busier than usual. I had interviewed twelve different people for the personal assistant position, and only one had seemed like he would be able to get the job done the Beaumont way—perfect and up to my high standards. I had hired him, Gabe, on the spot and immediately set him to work on the Mardi Gras event. It was the premier annual event for Fleur-De-Lis, and it would be the premier event for me.
I’d been handling my shit. I had delegated as much as I could, even allowing Malcolm some tasks. He had changed since he began dating Lisa. He was still a creepy porn clown, but he was becoming maturer—or as mature as he could be. He droned on and on about his sexcapades with Lisa and only Lisa—not his actresses or anyone he picked up off the street. These days, he was a one-woman man and stupidly in love. Even his eyes had changed from asshole to puppy dog. I was a bit jealous.
I knew the guests were filing in already by the sounds of the car doors shutting. Valet was up and running, and the sound guys started up the music. This party would be a little different than usual. I had asked Lisa to have it a bit edgier and less stuffy. I didn’t want the usual pomp and elegance of my Mardi Gras affairs. This time, I wanted the real Mardi Gras experience—wild music, flashing lights, sketchy people, and beads, beads, beads. I grabbed a handful of beaded necklaces and put them in my pocket.
I had asked Lisa to make sure Samantha came, at least for the first hour or two so that she could make sure things were as planned. I wouldn’t be making an entrance or be the center of attention tonight. I was wearing my mask, just like everyone else.