by Nikki Chase
Megan is reminding me of a version of me I was starting to forget, and I like that.
I just hope she likes it, too, because I don’t intend to let her go now.
I want her to stay here so we can have more nights like last night, and more Saturday mornings just like this.
The only difference is I want us both in the shower together.
Chapter 19
Megan
Ethan’s bathroom is considerably bigger than my own, which is already quite large. Like the rest of the apartment, the bathroom has a marble floor and a white stone countertop on the vanity.
The shower head is big, rectangular, and mounted to the ceiling. There’s a panel with too many buttons in front of me. I don’t know what most of them do, and I don’t care. Somehow I managed to turn the water on, it’s hot, and it has enough pressure, so I’m perfectly happy with it.
The hot water pelts my face, my breasts, and my stomach. As it runs down my body, I touch the tops of my thighs and gently rub my skin to remove all traces of my arousal from last night.
I’m surprised to find that everything feels the same. My body hasn’t changed.
For some reason, I thought having had my first sexual experience would change me in some way, but my body is the same as it always has been.
I don’t know how I feel about what happened last night, which I guess means that it wasn’t a bad thing, so…yay?
Or maybe it just hasn’t quite registered yet in my mind.
This could irreparably change things between Ethan and me. Hell, things probably have changed between us. I mean, last week, when I’d just moved in, he wouldn’t have made a joke about us showering together.
It wasn’t like I had time to list out the pros and cons before letting Ethan strip me naked last night. I can’t believe I’m repeating this lame line that millions of people have used throughout the centuries, but it just happened.
I dry myself off, glancing at the big bathtub. There are round metal things on the sides—probably jets, I realize. Those would feel great after a long day at work, maybe with some wine and bubbles.
Without any prompting, my brain comes up with an image of Ethan in the tub, naked as the day he was born, pouring chilled champagne for me. I chase that thought away, although the way things are going now, that could very well happen any day now, and I wouldn’t object to it.
I crack open the door, peeking to see if there’s anybody in Ethan’s bedroom. It’s empty, like he said it would be. Despite the flirting earlier, he’s actually giving me some space.
God knows I need it. And maybe Ethan knows it, too.
I told him I’m a virgin last night, after all. I wonder if I can still call myself that. Oral sex counts as sex, right? So even if I still have a hymen, I’m no longer a virgin, I guess?
I don’t know. I feel like soon that won’t be relevant anyway. Judging by the bulge in Ethan’s pants last night, he’s eager to take things further.
I put on the clothes Ethan has laid out on the bed for me. They’re the ones I’d shed on the floor last night as he was eating me out, I realize. The thought of his face between my legs sends blood rushing through my veins, making my cheeks blush and my pussy pulse.
I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down and get rid of all the dirty thoughts in my head before I walk out to the living room.
“Hey,” I call out to Ethan, who’s sitting on the couch, watching some cartoon show.
“Oh, you’re done,” he says as he gets the remote control and turns off the TV.
“Um, where are we going?” If we’re going somewhere fancy, I need to wear the right outfit for it.
I wonder what kind of a breakfast place Ethan and Penny go to. Considering all the gourmet meals that their private chef cooks up all week, they must spring for something special on the weekend if they’re willing to leave the house for it.
“McDonalds’,” Ethan answers with a grin.
“Oh. I…didn’t expect that.”
He chuckles. “We’re not allergic to fast food. Matt prepares healthy food all week, so we indulge on the weekend.”
“That makes sense.”
Okay. So my logic of them springing for something different on the weekend is correct, but they’re taking it in a completely opposite direction than I thought they would.
“Back when we lived with my aunt, Penny used to tell her she wasn’t hungry when she didn’t like the cooking. And then in the middle of the night she’d come to my room, saying she was craving a Filet O-Fish or some chicken nuggets,” Ethan explains as he gets up from the couch. “Over time, it’s just become a thing for us. It’s like a little tradition, but I limit it to just one fast-food meal a week. Penny usually chooses to go for the breakfast.”
“Oh. Are you sure you want me to come with you? It sounds like some father-daughter bonding thing.”
“Yeah. Come with us. Penny wanted me to ask you.” In a low, conspiratorial tone, he adds, “I think she likes you.”
“She does?” I ask, surprised. I’m not a kid person, and I’m so awkward around kids that I don’t blame them if they don’t like me back. But for some reason, my fake step-kid likes me, apparently.
“Yeah.” Ethan steps closer and stops in front of me. He gives me a panty-melting smile and says, “Don’t worry. You’re part of the family now.”
Taken aback, I struggle to find the words to say. Guilt stabs through me like a sharp knife.
I came here thinking I’d dig up some dirt on Ethan and expose his true colors to the media.
Instead, all I find is a doting father who’s doing his best for his daughter. And he accepts me into the family, just like that.
I feel like the heartless monster I used to accuse Ethan of being. But instead of a confession, I just say, in the most ineloquent way possible, “Oh. Thank you.”
Ethan’s smile widens as his eyes dance with amusement. “You’re welcome. We love having you here.” He grins. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should take a shower. It’s time for some McMuffins.”
Chapter 20
Megan
“I wish Mom would stop telling people bad stuff about you,” Penny exhales loudly. “Maybe then we wouldn’t have stalkers.”
A man sitting a few tables away from us is pretending to be just another diner, trying to hide a camera with a giant zoom lens behind small boxes of food. I can't believe he thinks that trick is working.
“Some things are just out of our control,” Ethan says. “We can't make your mom do something...or stop doing something.”
Again, Penny sighs.
“You know what? It doesn't matter. Who cares?” Ethan asks, even though it's obvious Penny does. “Let's get you to Sarah's house, okay? No paparazzi would follow you there.”
“Okay,” Penny says, smiling when Ethan mentions visiting her best friend. Following Ethan’s lead, she gets up from her chair and grabs her plastic tray.
As we make our way out of the restaurant, Penny keeps her annoyed stare on the guy with the massive zoom lens. Unbothered, he snaps away while we dump the paper placemats and boxes into the trash.
I imagine these pictures will show up on the gossip magazines with headlines like “Billionaires are People, Too! They Eat Fast Food Like You Do!” Maybe they’ll get extra advertising dollars from McDonald’s for that particular edition.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to be a journalist. There’s so much misinformation going on in the world, I thought someone should step up and tell the truth. I wanted to be that someone.
And now, I’m not so sure it’s such a noble thing anymore.
Sure, there’s a difference between gossip tabloids and actual broadsheet newspapers. And then there’s a whole range of different stuff in between, like fishing magazines, photography magazines, and other niche publications.
I’ve always aimed to eventually work at a serious newspaper. I want a regular column, writing exposés on dirty politicians and dishonest businessp
eople. But I’ve never discounted the possibility of writing something less serious, like a gossip column, instead.
The article I wanted to write about Ethan would fall somewhere in between, I suppose.
He’s a serious businessman with a billion-dollar company that he built himself. He has been featured on the covers of business magazines.
But then, he’s also a handsome, eligible bachelor with a very public family life, thanks to his ex-wife’s many appearances on various TV shows and in magazine articles.
Add to that the personal history between him and my family, and I couldn’t resist making him the subject of my first-ever undercover infiltration. I wanted the whole world to know how rotten Ethan Hunter really was.
But what happens when the reality doesn’t match my expectations?
I’m starting to see things from Ethan’s perspective now, and it confuses me.
I used to think public figures didn’t deserve to whine about privacy, when they’ve put their lives out there for public consumption and profit from it. No doubt, Ethan’s fame has benefited him in business, even if the news about him isn’t always favorable.
But now I see he has never asked for any of that attention, and neither has Penny.
During the entire ride to Penny’s friend’s house, I get lost in my thoughts, not paying attention to the banter between Ethan and Penny. Mainly, they’re talking about her schoolwork, her friends, and what they’re going to have for next week’s fast food meal.
Does the world really need to know all these intimate details about their lives? What for? So people can feel like they’re just as special as rich, famous, public figures?
I guess it would’ve been different had I really found some dirt on Ethan, but I haven’t—and not for lack of trying.
I’ve continued to download his files into my USB stick, checking the contents every night on my laptop. But there’s nothing fishy going on. He’s clean as a whistle.
Maybe there’s no story here. I don’t know how I feel about that.
On one hand, I’m disappointed that my hard work hasn’t produced any results. On the other hand, I’m relieved that I have no reason to turn against Ethan and Penny.
Damn it, this has turned even more personal now, in a completely different way.
I don’t know what to do next, except for going along with the fake marriage plan for the next year or two, and collecting my six-figure pay checks.
I guess I have time to decide. A lot of time.
Right now, I’m enjoying Ethan’s company, and I guess that’s the most important thing at the moment. It has been so long since the last time I felt like I had a family, and I have to admit I’m liking being a part of this one.
“Have fun, honey,” Ethan says as Penny opens the car door and steps outside.
Without me realizing it, we’ve arrived at Penny’s destination, a tall luxury apartment building. Waking up from my daze, I say, “Have fun, Penny. See you later.”
A woman and a girl Penny’s age are waiting outside, the girl almost vibrating in place from excitement, and the woman squinting at the car windows, probably trying to catch a glimpse of Ethan. Even in a private school, not all parents regularly appear in the media, I suppose.
“See you,” Penny says with a big grin, all traces of annoyance gone. It’s nice to be a little girl sometimes; it only takes a play date with your BFF to make all your worries vanish.
As Penny closes the door and leaves, Ethan turns to me. “Is there somewhere you want to go?”
“Why? Are you going to drive me around?” I ask with a smile. I can’t believe Ethan freaking Hunter is my driver for the day.
“Maybe,” he says. “If you don’t have anywhere to go, there’s a place I want to show you.”
“What place?”
“It’s a secret,” he says, raising one eyebrow.
“It’s hard to say no to something like that.”
Ethan chuckles. “You like surprises?”
“Yeah, the good ones.”
“I’ll remember that for future reference.” The promise in his eyes of a “future,” no matter how flimsy, makes my heart dance.
“I can’t help it. I’m too curious for my own good.”
“Be careful. I might use that against you,” Ethan threatens with a mischievous smile. I can’t get over how playful he is now, how different he is from the way he acts in the office.
“How?” I challenge.
“I don’t know, but I’d be careful if I were you. Curiosity killed the cat.”
“But satisfaction brought it back,” I add automatically.
“Huh?”
“Uh, the saying ‘curiosity killed the cat’ is not complete. It’s supposed to go, ‘curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back,’”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Most people don’t. It means that when the cat finds out the truth, he’s satisfied and comes back to life.”
“Oh, because a cat has nine lives,” Ethan says.
“Exactly. I like the complete saying because the first part used to always bum me out, thinking about that poor cat.”
Ethan bursts out into laughter. His blue eyes twinkle as he fixes his gaze on me.
“So… Where are we going?” I ask, feeling self-conscious from being stared at.
“We’re going to satisfy your curiosity, kitty cat,” Ethan says.
“The office? This is your secret place?” I ask incredulously. “Do I have to remind you that I used to come here every day?”
“I know. I see you in the building sometimes,” Ethan says as we step out of the car.
I have to laugh. Sitting right in front of his office from nine to five every single day isn’t “sometimes.”
But today’s definitely different, and not just because it’s quieter on a Saturday.
The security guard and the receptionist treat me differently, now that I’ve just come out of Ethan’s shiny luxury car. They’re almost too polite, holding the door open and giving us big smiles as they greet us.
Back when I was still working here as Ethan’s personal assistant, they never even acknowledged my presence. Life sure is different for the rich. It’s like they live in the same world, but an alternate reality.
I can’t blame the security guard and the receptionist too much, though. I could see myself doing the same thing if I were in their position. You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do to move up from your station in life.
We take the elevator, but the button that Ethan presses is not the one for the office floor.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my curiosity coming back.
I can’t believe there’s a secret place in this office, where thousands of people come every day—including me.
“Just watch, kitty cat,” Ethan says with a grin. “So curious.”
As we shoot up to the top floor, I watch the ground fall outside the elevator. Whoever planned this building must be some kind of an adrenaline junkie, because it’s terrifying to go so high with only a panel of glass separating me from a thousand-foot drop.
Come to think of it, maybe it was Ethan’s idea. The whole building belongs to him, after all. And his own apartment has views just like this.
“What is it with you and heights?” I ask, turning toward him to avoid looking down to the ground. He’s standing right beside me, leaning against the same railing I’m holding, so close I can almost feel the heat emanating from his body.
For the first time, I notice how strange he seems right now, how out of place.
I’ve only ever seen him wearing business suits at the office. Today being his day off, Ethan’s in something a lot more casual: a pair of jeans and a dark T-shirt that hints at the lines and ridges of his sculpted chest and abs.
“There’s just something about it that makes me feel…invincible,” he exhales. He smiles as he gazes at me. “It’s like I can see everything and that makes me feel more like I’m in control. Looking at all th
e tiny little buildings and the tiny little people all the way down there makes my problems seem insignificant.”
When the elevator finally comes to a stop, Ethan takes my hand, making my heart jump in my chest. His hand feels warm and safe.
It’s just an innocent touch, but the way my body reacts to it is far from innocent. I get chills from where our hands touch, going up through my arm and my whole body. My core clenches at the memory of how his big, graceful, masculine hand touched me last night.
My jaw drops when I see we’re outside. My hair flies everywhere from how strong the wind is, this high up.
“This is…the rooftop?”
“Yeah,” Ethan says proudly.
“Wow, I had no idea something like this is on the rooftop.”
“That’s the whole idea. Nobody knows. Well, you do now, and the maintenance crew, but nobody else does.” Ethan grins as he watches my shock and awe. “Keep it a secret.”
This is like a little oasis in the middle of the city. Pots of shrubs and flowers line both sides of the wooden path. The rest of the ground—if you can call the top of a skyscraper that—is covered with green grass. Real grass; none of that fake bright-green stuff.
There’s a little fountain in the middle, as well as some benches along the edges of the roof. A concrete wall, about the height of my waist, runs along the edges of the rooftop.
“You… This is… You’re the only one who comes here?” I ask again, not quite believing a place like this could remain a secret.
“That’s what I’ve been telling you,” Ethan says with a proud grin as he excitedly pulls me closer toward the edge. “You know how sometimes I leave the office without telling you where I’m going?”
“That’s when you come here?”
“Yeah.”
“This is amazing.” I touch the top of the concrete wall as we reach the edge. I can see the entire city from up here. I can even see where buildings become more sparse, eaten up by vegetation.