Carter forces her eyes to stay open as she directs me to a midsized sedan, which is parked on the third level of the employees’ lot. I stop behind her car. She sighs and opens her door.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “Stay in.”
She watches me with a quizzical expression.
“I’ll get your things. Are they in the trunk?”
Carter blinks her heavy eyelids. “Yes, they are.” She sounds beat.
She takes her keys out of her coat pocket and hands them to me. I keep the heater running as I get out. I take three large suitcases out her trunk. There are three plastic bags back there as well. I turn to Carter and point at the bags, but she’s good and asleep. I take the bags, put all of her things in my trunk, get in, and drive off.
She only wakes up when I reach the entrance of the hotel. I roll her window down to tell the valet that he doesn’t need to get up because I’m checking out. I ask Carter to stay in the car as I go inside to get my luggage and pay my bill. She nods and goes right back to sleep.
About twenty minutes later, I’m back with my suitcase and slightly annoyed after paying the final bill. I could’ve bought a nice house with the cash I wasted staying at that hotel. But I’m too happy Carter is in my car to sulk about the bill for too long.
Once I get past the construction, the road to Napa is clear. I zoom up the Bay Bridge Interstate 80. I keep the stereo off in order to hear Carter gently snoring. Every now and then, I glance at her heart-shaped face and pouty lips. She’s just so pretty. How could I have not noticed her looks when I was fifteen? Maybe it was because she was too young and I always had a thing for the ungettable girls. Back then, that was college girls.
I’m tired and buzzed from excitement. I roll into Napa and up the road toward my house, which is nestled against the top of the mountain. I’ve become fond of the Spanish-style villa that I bought on a fluke. I’ve hired landscapers to dress the lawns and keep the trees and shrubs pruned. A few weeks ago, the entire property got a fresh coat of paint. I had the shutters changed and added decorative tiles around the arched entryways. I installed warm lighting inside and outside. Now when I drive up the path to my house and take in the ambiance, it feels more like home.
I drive up the red brick driveway, stop in front of the door, and touch Carter on the shoulder. “Hey.”
She squirms, moans, and slowly opens her eyes. She perks up when she sees my house. “Oh my God.”
“We’re here,” I say.
“Have I been asleep this whole time?”
“You have had a tough night. Come on, let’s get you inside.”
She rubs her eyes as she studies my house. “You live here?”
“So far only on the weekends.”
“It’s breathtaking.”
“How about I give you a tour in the morning?”
She musters a smile. “I’d love that.”
I’m captivated by her smile. “Me too.”
My heart is beating a mile a minute. In order to make it stop, I remind myself that she’s my employee and Vince’s younger cousin and I’m a changed man. All I want to do is open her door, pick her up, run into the house, throw her on my bed, pull her jeans off, and taste her wet pussy. I want to make Carter scream and clutch the sheets like she never has before.
I take one deep breath and get out of the car. I walk around the back of the car, which is kind of hard to do with a stiff dick. I open her door. I notice her staring at my swollen cock.
“I’ll get you settled in a guest room then bring your things into the house,” I say.
Carter is still distracted by my cock. “Right.”
I wonder what she’s thinking.
* * *
Carter
Robert took Carter by the hand and helped her to her feet. She had never felt so horny. What a big dick he had. Carter could only imagine how it would feel filling her up. They would certainly have sex—if not tonight, then soon. She was determined to make it happen. As he closed the car door, she purposely bumped her ass against his bulge. It was rock hard.
Robert stepped back as if the contact frightened him. His reaction caught her off guard. She concluded that he probably was being nice to her because she was Vince’s cousin and he considered her family. After they’d had lunch that afternoon, nothing had changed between them. At times she thought she caught him staring at her, but then once she was in the break room when Rachael had told Laura that she had caught him looking at her ass. She sounded pretty excited about it.
Laura primped in the mirror. “Don’t think you’re special. He looks at my ass too.”
When Carter walked out of the stall, both women looked at her and rolled their eyes. Carter had never seen Robert look at anyone’s ass, but it hurt to hear that Robert Tango was interested in other women. As good-looking as he was, he wouldn’t be single for long, and she would be fooling herself if she believed he was celibate.
Carter couldn’t think of much to say as Robert helped her up the steps. His arm was around her waist again. If only he knew the mixed messages he was sending by holding her that way. They entered the house. The lighting in the hallways was warm and inviting. She’d always known Robert Tango was an impeccable man. He was rich, smart, classy, and so good-looking that the heavens sang when all of his gorgeousness entered the room.
Earlier she had rested her head on his shoulder, but that was because she was too tired to walk without his help. Carter’s head was still light with exhaustion, but if Robert wanted to make love to her, she would gladly be on full alert for that. He walked her down a set of steps and into a massive bedroom. The bed, chest of drawers, nightstands, and the rest of the furnishings were all proof of his impeccable contemporary taste.
Robert walked her to the foot of the bed. “Welcome to your digs.”
Carter noticed the view of downtown. The scent of Robert’s skin lingered in the air. She could tell he’d spent a lot of time in that bedroom. “Is this the master bedroom?” She couldn’t believe he would let her sleep in his best room.
Robert winked. “All of the rooms in this house are masters.” He took a remote control off the nightstand. “Use this to lower the blackout shades.”
When he handed Carter the remote, their fingers touched. She thought she would faint from desire.
Robert pointed toward the right. “The bathroom’s that way. There are fresh towels hanging up. Soap, shampoo, everything you might need is in there, but let me know if anything’s missing.”
Carter took note of the suggestive look in his eyes. Yes, something was missing. He was missing!
“I will,” she said as calmly as she could.
He smirked and walked out of the bedroom. Carter had to flop down on the foot of the bed to gather her bearings.
* * *
Robert
I bring two of Carter’s suitcases into my bedroom. I couldn’t put Carter into one of the ordinary guestrooms; she’s too special for that. All four of the bedrooms in this house are masters, but this one has the best view. I set her suitcases against the wall. The water is running in the shower, and steam trickles out of the bathroom. She left the door open. I’m tempted to see if I can get a sneak peek of her naked body.
“Fuck, what’s wrong with me?” I mumble.
I rush back upstairs to get the rest of her things. I hate seeing all of her shit up against the wall. I’ll email the maid service and ask them to send Sylvia in the morning to help Carter go through her things and pick out what she needs for the long weekend, then I’ll store the rest.
I’ve made my third run, and Carter is still in the shower. It would’ve been nice to see her before I head to my home office. I close the door to the bedroom and leave her in peace. Exhaustion washes over me as I walk down the hallway. I go to my office and send that email to my maid service. Then I see an email from Jack Lord. His wife is opening a bakery, and he wants to know if I can drive down to Santa Barbara next weekend to assess the space. My answer is short. “Absolute
ly. Reply with address and time?”
I print the expansion report from my business development department. Without a presence in New York, we’re just peons. With a presence in New York, we put ourselves in the position to become giants. I’m tempted to read the report tonight, but I’m just too tired. I save it for the morning. However, I open another email—it’s from Grace. She wants to have lunch on Monday and talk to me about returning to Kennedy Creative.
I close the email. I’m in the process of changing the name of the company, not to RT Creative but to RT Modern Design. However, I’m not releasing the name Kennedy Creative. I’ve read Grace’s employee profile. She’s an interior designer, but somewhere along the way, she fell into trying to keep her father’s business afloat. When she can prove that she’s done being a brat, then I have a proposition for her.
She’s contacting me a lot sooner than I expected, but I decide to respond to her email anyway. “Call Zoe and schedule a one-hour meeting for next week.” I cc Zoe on the email. Maybe my proposition can be incentive for her to see a shrink.
I power off my computer and head downstairs to the bedroom next door to Carter’s. I pass Carter’s door on the way, and strangely, the shower is still running. I stop a few feet away, worried that maybe she slipped and fell. I step back to knock on the door. Of course she wouldn’t be able to hear me. I open the door.
“Carter?” I call.
The water turns off, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Sorry, I was just checking to make sure you’re okay,” I say.
“Um…”
I hear the shower door open. I’m not sure if I should leave or not.
“I’m fine.” She steps out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. Her hair is wet, and the sight of her slippery skin turns me the fuck on.
There’s only one reason a woman lets me see her looking that way—she wants me to seduce her. I struggle to keep the former Robert Tango contained. If I fuck her, then what? She becomes my girlfriend? My lover? How will it look to the other employees? I don’t know why, but I suspect they’re all waiting for me to slip and fall into one of my underlings’ pussy. I’ve seen more cleavage, nipples, and panty-less asses in the past three months than I have in my whole life, and that’s saying a hell of a lot. I salivate at her milky, smooth cleavage. I could really show Carter the time of her life if I let it happen—but I won’t.
“Good,” I say and get the hell out of there.
Once again, I’m walking with a stiff cock. I go inside my room, shut the door, lean against it, and close my eyes to steady myself. That was close.
I hope to hell she’s not persistent enough to knock on my door. If she is, then I’ll open it and fuck her brains out. I wait, feeling equal amounts of hope and dread. At least a minute goes by, and I step away from the door. I strip off my trousers, unbutton my shirt, keep on my underwear and T-shirt, and climb under the covers of my bed. I stare at the remote control that lowers the blackout shades. My brain wants me to take it and lower the shades so that the glare from the city light flowing into the sky won’t disturb my sleep. However, I close my eyes, and I’m out like a lamp.
Dingy daylight fills the room. I scramble to sit up. I kick myself for not setting the alarm on my cell phone. My head is still a tad bit foggy from oversleeping when I scoot off the bed, retrieve my pants from the floor, and take my cell phone out of the pocket. “Hot damn.”
It’s ten thirty in the morning. I vaguely remember falling asleep with a serious hard-on. Carter had walked out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel. She tempted me, and I was victorious. Fucking her would be the wrong thing to do. I slap myself upside my thick head in hopes that that fact will seep through.
Now that my head is clear, I take a quick shower and put on fresh clothes. I keep it casual—jeans and a long-sleeved V-neck sweater. I plan to take Carter into town for brunch before heading out on our house-hunting trip, but not before I show her my Harley. One step into the hallway, and I’m struck by the aroma of breakfast. Then I remember Sylvia’s here this morning. Sometimes she cooks my meals. She’s always asking when I’m going to get a wife to take care of me. I usually joke and tell her that I’d rather give all of my money to her. She blushes, and that’s usually the end of it until the next time she comes in early and the house feels too still and lonely to her. I practically skip to the kitchen, glad she made breakfast.
“Carter?” I say, surprised to see her at the stove.
“Are you hungry?” Her tone is light and cheery.
“Where’s Sylvia?”
“Oh, the woman who was supposed to help me fold my clothes and put them away?”
I shrug.
“I told her she could go home. She was very happy that you had a woman in the house though.”
I lean on the frame that separates the kitchen from the dining room. “How long have you been up?
Carter flips a pancake. “Usually I wake up at six, but I slept so good last night that I woke up at eight!” She sounds pretty proud of that.
I’m happy she’s happy. “I just didn’t want you to live out of your suitcases and bags the entire weekend.”
“Pretty pathetic, huh?” She flips another pancake.
“It makes me want to punch Tyler in the throat, but I’ll settle for firing his arrogant ass.”
She almost panics. “No, you can’t do that, not because of me.”
“I’ve been looking for a reason. He’s a fucking prima donna, and he’s rude to my clients.”
“He’s rude to everybody. How do you like your eggs?”
I’m amused by her chirpy mood. I try to keep my eyes off of her tight tank top and her tight sweatpants that display the V of her pussy.
“Sunny-side up, and yes, I know he’s rude to everybody. I think that’s why Ralph fired his ass.”
“Maybe rudeness is the price of talent.”
I grunt. “No, it isn’t. You’re more talented than he is, and you have zero amount of ego. Why don’t you strut around like a peacock like the rest of them?”
She puts three pancakes on a plate and pours more batter. “You do eat three, don’t you?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
“And I’m not a peacock because I don’t need to be in order to feel good about myself. Underneath all the feathers are insecure people.”
I grunt thoughtfully. She nailed it. I was a peacock for so many years, hiding my shitty abandonment issues and insecurity under a gang of feathers. “All right, I won’t fire him yet, but if he’s rude to another one my clients or employees, then his ass is out.”
She grins and cracks an egg into the skillet. “Did I already say that this is a beautiful house?”
I like the way she changed the subject. “I’ve done some work on it in the last three months.”
She sighs gravely. “Sorry about that. Avoidance. I’m very good at it.”
I grin. “It’s fine.”
“I know that Tyler can be a certified jerk, but he is an exceptional architect.”
“And so are you.”
“But isn’t it always good to have more than one exceptional architect? You never know when one of us will have to leave.”
I flinch. “Are you going somewhere?”
She turns her back to me to flip the pancakes. “I know Grace wants me gone.”
“Grace? I fired her.”
“But I heard that she wants to come back. She’ll never stop trying to get you to re-hire her.”
I think about the email she sent me. “Don’t worry about it, Carter. She can’t do anything to you.”
Her smile says how appreciative she is that I’m willing to protect her from the crazy shit that went on at Kennedy Creative before I took over.
I wink at her and roll up my sleeves. “What can I do to help?”
“You can make coffee,” she says.
I walk to the cupboard where I keep the coffee. “Making coffee.”
We finish preparing breakfast, and soon we’re i
n the dining room. I’m sitting in front of two eggs sunny-side up, a stack of three pancakes, three strips of bacon, coffee, and orange juice. Carter has made two pancakes, scrambled eggs, and two strips of bacon. I reveal to her that I have a Harley in the garage and ask if she wants to take it out today.
“Who’s going to drive, you or me?” she asks.
“Um, me.”
“We should flip a coin,” she says.
We grin at each other.
“No need. You can drive. I’ll ride bitch.”
She laughs. “There’s no way Robert Tango can ever ride bitch. For you, we’ll call it riding stud.”
I toss my head back and bellow. “All right, I’ll ride stud.”
We finish breakfast. I clean the kitchen as Carter goes to her bedroom to get appropriately dressed for a motorcycle ride. I avoid admiring her ass as she goes. I put the dishes and pans in the dishwasher and wipe down the counters and stove. By the time I hang the damp dishtowel on the rack, Carter’s back in the kitchen. Her sexiness is effortless. I find myself yet again avoiding the desire to salivate over her hips, ass, and long legs in those tight jeans.
“You look good,” I say, keeping my eyes on her face.
She winks. “So do you.”
I grin. She’s been flirting with me ever since last night, and it’s working. “Ready for the tour?”
Again, she looks at me with smoldering eyes. “I’m ready when you are.”
I ignore the desire to pull her against my chest and make out with her. Instead, I take her to the backyard garden. The trimmed shrubs and cobblestone pathways impress her. Carter sits on one of the iron benches, and I sit beside her.
She’s soaking in the ambiance. “Do you plan to keep living here on the weekends?”
“Sure, why not? I’ve been cooped up in LA and New York for so long that I forgot how it felt to have space.”
“Do you know exactly which San Francisco neighborhood you want to live in?”
I smirk. “Since you know me so well, can you guess?”
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