by Katy Kaylee
Maybe he’d even tell me why he and his ex-wife got divorced. He didn’t talk about that at all, and although I didn’t know the reason, I suspected it was a terrible time in his life. I remembered the first time I met him, the hurt and vulnerability in his eyes, although he tried to hide it. It had still be visible then. It wasn’t there any longer, and I hoped that deep down, he was happy.
Now, if only I could call him Dillon, instead of Mr. Marsh.
Dillon
I tapped my fingers on the desk inside my study, overlooking the notes for my meeting tomorrow morning one last time. I have been reciting it to myself over and over again in the hopes that it would stick, but I think I was too tired to remember anything right now. When I glanced at the clock on the wall, I frowned, as I didn't realize how late it actually was. It was past eleven, and if I wasn't careful, I’d be sitting there for a few more hours without realizing it. It was a wonder that I was still awake.
I stretched out my arms above my head, hearing my joint crack due to the prolonged position I had been sitting in and left out a groan. My eyes were on fire and rubbing them only made it worse.
It was quiet in the house, and I was definitely the only one who was awake. I sat up straight in my chair and sighed, gathering my notes together, and in order.
A soft knock on the door made me jerk my head to the side and saw Malia standing in the doorway.
“You’re still up,” I said, glancing briefly at her tanned legs, perfectly contrasted against the white shorts she wore. Her hair was tied up in a high messy ponytail, and two locks of hair hung down on each side of her face.
“Yeah, I put Willow to bed and kind of fell asleep while reading her a story,” she shrugged.
“That used to happen a lot to me when she was a baby. I’d put her down, read her a story, and I’d be the one who fell asleep first,” I chuckled, recalling the days.
“Having a baby is tiring,” she said simply, glancing around my study.
She had never been inside it before, as it was strictly off limits to all staff, but I figured it’d be okay if she was there.
“I was just coming to say good night, and that you should probably go to be as well. Your eyes are pretty bloodshot.”
“They feel bloodshot,” I answered.
“Well, good night then.”
I pursed my lips briefly and had an idea. “Malia?”
She turned back to me and cocked her head. “Yeah?”
“Would you do me a favor?” I asked.
“Sure,” she answered apprehensively and I handed her my presentation speech. “Is this your speech for the big meeting tomorrow?”
“It is,” I answered. “Would you take a look at it for me?”
“Why? I don’t know anything about your company,” she asked.
“You know enough. It’s late and when I read it back, it doesn’t make any sense to me,” I asked and glanced at her. “Please?”
“Okay, but I’m sure it’s good,” she said and started to read it. It took her a few minutes to get through the entirety of it, but it was nice to watch her as she worked her way down the page. She paced slowly as she read it, her lips pouting seductively.
Was she doing his on purpose? No, she wouldn’t do that.
A terrifying thought rose up inside me. What if she had seen me looking at her from my bedroom window? What if she knew that I had examined every inch of her body, her curves, exactly the same why I was doing right at that moment. I lowered my gaze and tried to focus on something else until she was done, but it was more difficult than I thought it would be.
“Wow,” she murmured to herself, catching my attention. “You’re such a badass, Mr. Marsh.”
“Why would you say that?” I asked.
“You just are. Your speech is honest and to the point, you take absolutely no bullshit from anyone, and your authority runs way deeper than I thought,” she said and glanced at me. “You’re totally badass.”
“Why does that surprise you?” I asked, raising an intrigued eyebrow.
“Well, you’re a family man at home, and the complete opposite of the man who gives this speech. Isn’t it exhausting to be two people at the same time?” I asked.
“I’m sure you are as well,” I pointed out. “You look after my daughter, you’re a wonderful example to her, you teach her to be calm and confident, happy and creative. I bet you’re not those things all the time when you did have this job.”
“I love my job, by the way,” she defended.
“I never said you didn't,” I said, “I’m just saying that most of us put up a facade at work which is completely different to the person we are.”
“I’m not a completely different person when I’m not around Willow. I mean, I do say fuck a lot when she’s not with me, but that doesn’t make me a different person. Does it?”
“Not at all,” I said with a grin, “and to clarify, I did say most people.”
“Am I the exception to the rule again?” she asked and placed her free hand on her hip.
“It would seem that way, yes.”
She grinned at me and placed the papers on my desk. “You sound like my mother. She used to say that to me while I was growing up. I never understood what she meant until didn't hear it any more.”
“Is she still in Portland?” I asked, realizing that I didn't know much about her family.
“Yeah, she and my dad. They’ll probably never leave. They love the cold too much. Sometimes I think I may have been switched at birth, or adopted. I’m so different to them. They’re…” her voice trailed and she pouted slightly. “They’re a lot like you.”
Well, that wasn't something that I would have ever believed. It was also not a good thing for me to hear, as she’d probably think that we had nothing in common.
Hold on, Marsh, what the hell are you thinking? It wasn't like I was considering a relationship with this girl, was I? Of course not, that would be silly. Not to mention unprofessional, unethical and just plain wrong. She was so much younger than I was, and she worked for me.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I said before the silence became too long.
“No, there’s nothing wrong with the way you are, Mr. Marsh. I just meant that I’m not like them. They’re smart and belong in the professional corporate world. I belong…” Her voice trailed once more and I took the opportunity to assure her of her purpose in life.
“Here,” I said and she glanced at me. “You belong here, or until you feel it’s time to go.”
“In that case, I’ll be here for a while,” she said with a smile.
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”
She chuckled and walked over to my desk, standing beside me. She leaned over and pointed to a specific paragraph of my speech. “This is my favorite part in this whole speech.”
I glanced over and chuckled at the paragraph she refers to. “I like that particular one the best as well.”
“Don’t worry, you’re going to kill it tomorrow.” Malia smiled and patted my shoulder. “You are so tense.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve been meaning to call my masseuse to help me out with that,” I said and shrugged my shoulders painfully.
“May I?” she asked and motioned to my shoulders.
My eyes widened slightly, but I nodded. Fuck it, I thought. If she wanted to do it, then she could.
“Sure,” I answered and shifted around in my leather seat. “A word of warning, they’re really-”
Before I could even finish my sentence, Malia’s hands slipped under my t-shirt and the pressure she applied to my aching muscles were absolutely fucking phenomenal.
I let out a groan as her fingers and palms massaged my shoulders and all I could do was sit there.
“You carry your tension in your shoulders, right here,” she whispered as she pressed on a spot on my shoulder, causing my legs to tingle. Thank god I was sitting down.
“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” I sighed. “How are you so good at this?�
�
“My dad has back and shoulder problems and I got a few tips from his chiropractor to help temporarily relief tension,” she answered.
I had to admit, not only did her hands feel amazing on my shoulders, but her touch made me relax although my heart was pounding in my chest. I felt a shift in my pants as my growing erection caused a little more friction than usual. If she wants careful, I’d fuck her right here on my desk.
“How does that feel?” she whispered in my ear and the scent of her filled my nostrils.
“Really good,” I answered breathlessly.
Her hands slid out from under my t-shirt and she stepped away from me.
“Thank you, that feels a lot better,” I said and cleared my throat.
“You’re welcome,” she said with a smile. “And thanks for the talk. I didn't realize that you were so easy to talk to.”
“It’s my pleasure. It was nice to talk to someone who isn’t an imbecile.”
She chuckled and said, “That means a lot. Well, I better get to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. Willow has her tennis lesson and she asked her instructor if I could join,” she paused and chuckled, “so I might die.”
“I’ll send an ambulance. WE can’t lose you.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly and she headed for the door. “Good night, Dillon.”
My eyes widened at the mention of my first name, but before I could say anything, she was already gone. I sat back in my chair, my skin still burning from her touch and exhaled slowly. I liked the sound of my name on her lips and was glad that she now felt comfortable enough to address me as such. Hopefully it lasted.
A few minutes later, after switching off the light in my study and closing the door, I made my way through the dark halfway and up the stairwell. On the way to my bedroom, I passed Malia’s bedroom, and even though every cell in my body tried tell me to just keep walking, I slowed down and peered through the almost closed door. Malia sat on her bed, her tanned and toned legs stretched out in front of her. The white shorts she had worn when she was in his study was no longer on. Instead she wore a pair of light pink panties with little watermelons, with a semi-sheer tank top. Her hair was still tied up, but she looked so sexy in the room, lit only by the dim light of her bedside lamp.
I watched her as she applied a coat of peach nail polish to her toenails and leaned back against the white velvet headboard of her bed, waiting for it to dry. I quickly and quietly move away that she didn’t see me, and headed back to my room, feeling the pressure of my cock pressing against my pants already. This damn woman was turning me on by just looking at her, innocently painting her toenails.
I felt like a pervert, spying on an innocent girl, but judging by the way she touched my shoulders, massaging them, and the way she was wearing those skimpy clothing, made me believe she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. She knew that I would be coming up the hallway to get to my bedroom. She knew that I’d be walking past her room, hence why she left the door slightly open.
Or maybe I was just completely wrong.
Maybe she had no intention to seduce me, or flirt with me.
Maybe it was all in my head, and my horny imagination was just playing tricks on me, making me believe that she wanted me. Maybe she was just carrying on the way she always had, and I was the one imagining things. Maybe all those late nights and working too hard was finally getting to me, driving me to see things, hear things and feel things that I wasn’t supposed to. I was developing a desire for a woman I cannot have, and it was frustrating me immensely.
At least she called me by my first name, so there was definitely progress, just not the progress that I wanted.
Malia
The cool air blasted from the vents of my car as I sat in the drivers’s seat and ran my fingers through my hair. The heat was starting to get unbearable, but I wasn’t complaining much. It was much better than the damn cold days of Portland. I sat in my car outside the music conservatory while waiting for Willow to finish her piano lesson and I was still having these mixed emotions about Dillon.
Yeah, I now started to call him Dillon, but it was still a bit strange to me. Every time I said his name, addressed him so casually, it felt as though I was crossing a line, a dangerous line. It also didn't help the fact that I was feeling all kinds of things for him.
It was nothing emotional, don’t get me wrong. It was just that being close to him, spending time with him make me want him more and more, and I wasn’t sure how to handle those feelings. Normally if I had these kinds of feelings for a guy I would go out with him to a bar or a club, get drunk, go back to his place and have drunken sex with him. It was simple and it worked.
This time, however, it wouldn’t be so simple. I couldn’t just get him drunk and have wild and raunchy sex with him.
Could I?
No, Malia, I scolded myself.
Maybe I could test the waters, see if he responded to me, and if he didn’t, then I’d stop. I didn’t want to lose my job. Marsh Mansion was my home, and I’d be lost without Willow and Dillon. They were my family now, and I couldn’t jeopardize all that for a lay, to satisfy my sexual craving.
I sighed again and grabbed my phone. I needed some advice, and the only person I could talk to about this was Claire.
It still had forty minutes to talk to Claire, so I dialed her number and waited for her to answer.
“Hey stranger,” she answered.
“Oh, please. I spoke to you yesterday,” I said and rolled my eyes at her.
“I know, but it’s not the same and you know that.”
“I know. I promise to come for a visit. Willow is a full-time job,” I answered.
“I thought you loved your job,” Claire said.
“I do, don’t get me wrong. I knew that she’d take up most of my time, and I’m not sorry. It’s a great thing I have going there. It doesn’t make me miss you less though.”
“Aw, that’s sweet. So, what’s up?” Claire asked.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“Well,” I sighed and leaned my head back against the headrest, “it’s complicated.”
“It always is with you,” Claire said. “What is it this time?”
“I have a super physical crush on Dillon, I mean Mr. Marsh,” I confessed.
“No, fucking way,” Claire gasped. “It’s not really surprising. He is smoking hot and single, so you might just have a shot.”
“But he’s my boss. Wouldn’t that be unethical?” I asked.
“A little, but you’re both adults. If you came to an arrangement that it would only be a one time thing, then it’s okay. I guess.”
“You guess?” I asked with a scoff. “So I am supposed to jeopardize my job at the risk of a guess?”
“I’m not saying that, Malia. I’m just saying that so what if you two slept together. You’re adults.”
“But won’t it be awkward afterwards?”
“The only person who can make it feel awkward is you.”
I sighed and shook my head in disapproval. “You know, I called you so hat your could be my voice of reason, to talk some sense into my head, and scolding me for thinking things like that in the first place.”
“Okay, first of all, when have I ever been your voice of reason,” Claire asked and I pouted in agreement, “and second of all, he is so stinking hot you can’t not sleep with him. If you don’t do it, then you’ll always wonder what if, and girl, you don’t need that kind of negativity in your life. If you want to fuck him, then do it, just make sure that he knows it’s just a one time thing, unless you want to keep doing it. Do you want to keep doing it?”
“I don’t know, okay. I just can’t stop thinking about what it would be like. I am literally driving myself crazy as it is the only thing I can think about when I look at him,” I sighed miserably.
“Do it. Get it our of your system and be done with it.”
I pursed my lips briefly and nod
ded, as if Claire could see my face. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Great, but just remember, you can’t just pounce on him, you’ve got to warm him up first,” Claire said.
“How the hell do I do that?” I asked.
“Like foreplay, Malia. Don’t you know anything?”
I rolled my eyes at her and said, “Teach me, oh grand mistress of seduction.”
“Now you’re getting it,” she chuckled. “Start wearing tighter, shorter clothes. Luckily it’s summer, so you have the perfect excuse. Bring a lot of attention to your mouth, with food and utensils, for example. Guys love it when you put stuff in your mouth.”
“Makes sense,” I shrugged. “Anything else?”
“Oh, and touch him, you know, like little gestures. Touch his hand, brush your hand against his as you walk past him. Things like that. No staring or creeping, because that could get you arrested, and there’s not sex in prison. Well, not the fun kind at least.”
I cringed and lowered my gaze. “Right.”
“Try those things and I guarantee he’ll be eating you out in no time. And if he doesn’t, grab him by the cock and tell him you want to fuck his brains out in the sexiest voice you can possibly make. That also works,” Claire said.
I cringed to myself, but moderately intrigued by the visual of grabbing Dillon by the cock. It was a drastic and “I’ll try the subtle things first.”
“Good. Keep me posted.”
“I will. Thank, Claire. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I said gratefully.
“Yeah, I’m the best,” she said proudly. “I have to go. I have a few reports to finish. Text me tonight.”
“Will do.”
I heard the call disconnect and I placed my phone back in it’s charging dock on the dashboard.
I took a deep breath as I saw Willow walk to the car and climbed inside.