by Nikki Chase
When I saw him, I couldn’t end it. I wanted to know what else he had up his sleeves.
But if nothing else, at least the lack of sleep allowed me to snooze like a baby in the plane, all the way to the south of France. That's probably one of the reasons why I still feel like I’m trapped in a surreal dream.
“So this place we’re going to, it’s this small, organic vineyard. Most vineyards in this area are like, 100 hectares, but this one is only 6 hectares. The couple that owns the place doesn’t use chemical fertilizers. They have pet donkeys and sheep to help with that. So these animals just graze among the vines and fertilize the soil naturally,” Heath says, suddenly chatty after dodging my questions about our destination the whole flight.
“Did you read the guidebook on the flight here?” I ask, only half-joking.
“Something like that,” he admits with a boyish grin. “You were asleep for a long time.”
“You said to rest up.” I shrug.
“I’m not complaining,” he says. “I enjoyed watching you sleep. You looked so peaceful.”
I’m not sure if that’s a compliment. “Uh… thanks?”
“I took some pictures and videos, I hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t help it, especially when you starting moaning my name…”
“I what?” I ask, louder than I intended.
Heath chuckles, and laugh lines appear around his startling blue eyes.
“I really did that?” I ask again. I need to know.
“No,” he says, still grinning from ear to ear.
Relief and embarrassment flood my chest at the same time. I’m glad I didn’t actually do that, but I’m annoyed that Heath has pulled a fast one on me again.
Or maybe I’ve been in a bad mood all day. Without knowing what we were about to do, I couldn't come up with a challenge for today. And now it's… I don't even know the day anymore because of the time difference.
“You didn’t say my name in your sleep, kitten,” he says as he traps my gaze, his eyes darkened by lust. “But you’ll scream it out loud while you’re wide awake. Soon. You’ll see.”
The small vineyard is enchanting. It’s like something straight out of a fairy tale.
The main building is an old stone cottage, that nevertheless is equipped with all the modern comforts, like Wi-Fi, which is very important to me. I need it to check Jane’s latest notes on my manuscript, which I update on Google Docs whenever inspiration strikes.
All around us are other squat, old buildings that have probably stood here for hundreds of years, keeping watch over the village, generation after generation. The rolling green hills around us have been here even longer.
Everything’s old. Ancient. It’s like stepping back in time, to an era when the world was small and everybody knew everybody else.
The wines are exquisite, and the food is out of this world. Everything’s fresh from the local farms: the eggs, the breads, the jams, the milk, and the butter.
Now, I’ve had all these foods before, but not like this. I feel like holding up any one item from this meal and going, “Now this is bread” or something equally theatrical. They’re that good.
The couple who owns the place sits with us as we eat. They tell us about their vines, their traditional processes, and their little experiments to improve the subtle notes of the wines. It’s obvious they’re passionate about their products.
All I want in life is to be like them. I want to do something I love and watch people enjoy my work. That would feel so rewarding.
“I can see why you’d fly all the way here for this. This is easily the best meal I’ve ever had,” I say to Heath when we're finally left to our own devices.
“Actually, I didn’t expect them to serve food as well. I thought it was just going to be the wines.” Heath takes another sip of the red wine.
I follow suit. “My first day, and I’m already drinking on the job.”
“And in front of your boss, too,” Heath adds.
“What can I say?” I give Heath a grin. “I eat danger for breakfast.”
“Actually, I think they call this déjeuner,” Heath says, pointing at the food on the table between us. “And it means lunch, not breakfast.”
I laugh as I recall that one French class I took years and years ago. I’ll admit that’s a good one.
I don’t know what I expected, but I definitely didn’t foresee myself having such an easy banter with my boss, the rising star of Wall Street.
Sure, he’s got good looks and a truckload of money. But I didn’t expect him to also be funny, and that’s somehow more impressive to me than all the things he’s accomplished.
As the sun starts to set in the late afternoon, we leave town—sadly, before we get the chance to have dîner.
I don’t know why I expected us to stay the night. Probably because I’ve never actually flown anywhere for just one meal before. But then I’ve also never had a private jet waiting at my beck and call before.
And so I sleep the whole way back, my natural clock confused by the time zones that keep changing.
My first day has been delayed.
I’m relieved to have more time to think (although I can’t be bothered to calculate exactly how much time), but at the same time, this romantic trans-Atlantic trip doesn’t bode well for my resolve to keep things strictly professional.
It kind of scares me. Obviously, I shouldn’t get attached because we have an expiration date. Once my work with the baby—Heath’s baby—is done, there's no reason for me to stick around anymore.
But it doesn’t make me want to turn on my heel and run away. On the contrary, it just makes me want to spend more time with Heath.
Looks like this going to be my challenge for many, many days throughout this strange arrangement of ours: try not to fall for my boss.
I’ve never failed one of my challenges, except for when I was trying to decide if I should sign Heath’s contract.
To be honest, these challenges have been getting easier for a while anyway, ever since I moved out of Vera’s, so maybe I’m overdue for a good one.
Heath Anders, I’ve decided. You’re my next challenge, and I’m not going to fail this one.
I’m going to let you have my body however you please, but my heart belongs to my fictional heroes. You’re just a stepping stone so I can introduce them to the world one day.
Kat
“Why have you been ignoring my phone calls, Kat?” Vera asks, her voice dripping with venom.
“I haven’t been ignoring you, Vera,” I say wearily into my phone as the big Anders Capital Management logo on top of the office building comes into view. I’m tired of the way Vera always assumes the worst of me. “I’ve just been busy with my new job.”
“That doesn’t mean you can just drop your responsibilities. You were supposed to look after Bruce yesterday afternoon.”
“I never agreed to do that.” I grit my teeth to stop myself from telling her to take care of her own child. He’s not my responsibility; he’s hers.
“You know I have Zumba class every Tuesday.”
“Yes, but I never actually said that I’d watch Bruce every single Tuesday,” I retort.
“After everything I’ve done for you, you can’t even do a little thing for me,” Vera says. “You’re just like your dad. Selfish and ungrateful.”
Oh God, I don’t want to listen to this speech again. “Vera, I’ll get someone to babysit Bruce next Tuesday, okay? I’ll find some high-school girl from Craigslist or something.”
“Who’s going to pay for that? You?” Vera asks, obviously expecting me to balk.
“Yes,” I say, running on the last iota of patience as I enter the building and wait by the elevators with a bunch of other office workers.
Vera pauses. “Since when did you have money?”
“It’s just one night of baby-sitting, Vera. It’s not like I’m taking anyone on a trip around the world,” I say, evading her question.
“You said you had a new j
ob?” she asks.
“Yeah. I have to go now, Vera. I have to go to work. Bye.” I end the call before she can say anything else and step into the elevator that has arrived.
With my heart pounding in my chest, I walk up to Heath’s door and knock.
“Come in,” he says from behind the door.
Strange. I’ve done this many times before. I’ve knocked on this same door more times than I can remember, and I’ve always heard that same familiar response from Heath.
But it feels different today.
Because Heath’s made it clear that this morning, he’s cleared his schedule for me.
No, that’s not it. Not for me.
For his baby. The one that’s not yet born. The one we’re going to make.
A pang of jealousy stings my chest.
My whole life, neither my dad nor my step-mom has ever cleared their schedule for me—and they weren’t even close to being busy billionaires like Heath.
And now, even before our bab—shit, I mean his baby—is born, he’s already a better parent than those two.
Is Heath just exceptionally good at everything he does, or are my parents just exceptionally bad at everything they do?
“You look great today, kitten,” Heath says cheerfully.
He never used to make any comments regarding my appearance, but ever since we signed that contract, he’s been showering me with compliments.
And he calls me “kitten.” It’s kind of weird, but I also kind of like it. I don’t know.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
“Where?”
He gives me a look that says you should’ve known better than to ask.
“I know, I know. You’re not going to tell me. Because you’re all mysterious and unpredictable,” I say.
“Actually… I know this great breakfast place,” Heath says.
I surreptitiously let out a big, relieved exhale. I didn’t expect his plan to be so normal.
“Oh, I’ve already had breakfast. But I’ll go with you,” I say.
Maybe I’ll have an orange juice and just chat with him.
I don’t know why, because I want to jump Heath’s bones, and he’s incredibly attractive, but the thought of stripping naked in front of him, letting him see every part of me… It makes me feel vulnerable.
Other men have never made me feel this way. I don’t really have much casual sex, but I’m pretty good at separating sex from emotions. In fact, I often scoff when girls tell me they can’t “just have sex like men do,” because I do it all the time.
Or at least I did.
But now… I don’t know.
Heath turns off his computer and gets up from his chair. His gaze zeroes in on me—the exposed skin of my calves, the curves hidden underneath my usual blouse-and-pencil-skirt combo, and my face as I struggle to decide where to look. He’s making me forget how to act normal.
He smirks as his hot stare brands his desire onto my body.
Somehow, that doesn’t look like the kind of expression one puts on for breakfast…
* * *
“You said we were having breakfast.” I scamper down the carpeted hotel hallway to catch up with Heath.
“We are.” He maintains his easy stride. With his long legs, he doesn’t need to try to outpace me.
“Why are we going to a hotel room?” I glance at the plastic card in Heath’s hand. That’s a room key, right? He must’ve gotten it from the front desk downstairs.
“Haven’t you heard of room service?” Heath asks as he swipes the key card and the door beeps open. “After you,” he says with an exaggerated bow.
“Thank you.” I curtsy. I hear him chuckle as I walk past him into the hotel room. I ask again, “So, breakfast?”
The door swings shut behind us with an ominous click.
“You said you’d already had breakfast.” Heath’s footsteps get nearer, the rubber soles muffled by the thick carpet. “Did you maybe just have danger again for breakfast and that’s why you’re hungry now?”
I huff a small, nervous laugh. “Maybe.”
“Danger with a side of danger?”
“Exactly.” I walk deeper into the room until I reach the big floor-to-ceiling window at the far end and touch the cold, hard glass with the pads of my fingers.
“What are you so afraid of?” Heath asks, his voice so close I can almost feel its vibrations.
“Nothing,” I say.
That's a lie. It’s not nothing. But I don’t know what it is either.
Without saying a word, Heath approaches from behind, his hard chest almost touching my back. I shudder from his nearness, and I hope he doesn’t notice.
He’s warm, and solid. He feels like safety. Like shelter on a rainy day—even if it’s a temporary one.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I lean back and close the gap between us.
Heath takes that as an invitation. His arms run up my sides and wrap around me.
A chill runs down my entire body as his breath lands on the back of my neck. With my hair up in a ponytail, Heath has full access to that sensitive part of my body.
When his lips graze my skin, soft and firm at the same time, a heavy sigh escapes my mouth. It only makes him kiss me harder, his tongue and teeth joining in on the assault on my receptive nerve endings.
As my sighs turn into moans, it becomes clear that Heath has no plans to stop any time soon.
I bite my lower lip to stop myself from making any more noises that would only urge Heath on. Then, I bite harder to distract myself from the sinful sensations shooting from my neck and straight to my center, making my whole being yearn for him.
“Heath,” I say, in an attempt to interrupt him. But my voice comes out raspy with arousal, and it sounds like a cry of passion.
“I told you I was going to make you say my name,” he whispers before he nibbles on my earlobe, sending another shudder down my spine.
I decide it takes too much effort to correct him, so I get to the point. “What about breakfast?”
“You’re my breakfast, kitten,” he says with a light chuckle as he drags his mouth over my shoulder, pushing the fabric of my blouse with his lips. His fingers deftly work on the buttons along the front of my blouse.
So he’s planned to do this, the entire time.
Heath pulls my blouse off and turns me around. He yanks me into a bruising kiss, his lips and tongue claiming my mouth. I can only open up and let him do as he pleases, while the pressure in my pussy grows stronger and more insistent.
There’s no going back from this. I’m starting to lose my mind, and I’m starting to forget why I need to keep things professional.
Maybe Heath’s right. Just because I’m also making money from this arrangement, doesn’t mean it can’t also be fun. Maybe I should allow myself to enjoy this.
Like Jane said, this is going to make for great dinner-party conversation material. I’m sure there are women out there who’d pay good money to know what Heath Anders is packing underneath his designer suits.
But I can’t even think anymore. Heath’s hands roam all over my hips, my tits, my ass… My mind is filled to the point of bursting with little explosions of pleasure.
I don’t even pay attention when my clothes fall to the carpeted floor one by one, until I’m standing without a thread on my body, while Heath descends to his knees, his lips trailing kisses down my cleavage, my abdomen, and my thighs.
My knees feel weak. My back and ass press back against the glass window. We’re on a high floor, but technically, anyone with a strong enough zoom lens can see me butt naked as the day I was born.
Except I’m doing something very adult right now. Or rather, very adult things are being done to me.
Heath parts my legs and drags his lips up my thighs. The world spins into an inconsequential blur. All that matters is how much closer he is to where I want him to be, where I need him to be—the part of me that’s throbbing in need right now, craving him.
“Heath,�
�� I sigh as I reach down to touch his hair—his silky, luscious hair. I rest my palm on his head. “Should we…” My sentence hangs in the air as my words turn into a breathy moan. I try again. “Maybe we should move to the bed.”
“No, I’m good here.” He smirks as he parts my legs even further and wraps his arms around my thighs, making me lose even more balance.
I lean back against the glass—warm now from my body heat—and feel myself slide down to a point where my legs no longer supports me. Only Heath’s muscular arms and strong hands are keeping me upright.
“Heath, I…” I bite my lower lip as Heath’s lips grazes over my pussy lips, light as a feather. God. How do I even get a chance to think a complete thought?
“Yeah?” he asks in an innocent, casual tone before he goes back to torturing me, his lips only barely touching my folds, and his breath caressing the hyper-sensitive skin around them.
The pressure within me builds up to the point where I have to remind myself to breathe.
“Did you say something?” Heath asks with his lips still between my legs, sending little sparks of pleasure with every syllable he utters.
Before I can think of anything to say, Heath’s tongue swipes over my lower lips, and I can only gasp in surprise. After that slow tease, I didn’t expect him to do that.
“I guess you changed your mind and now you don’t want to move anymore, huh, kitten?” Heath asks before he dives back in.
He sucks my pussy lips into his mouth, where it’s impossibly warm and wet and… Ugh, I don’t even know how to describe this sensation. Yes, it’s warm and it’s wet, but that doesn’t do justice to just how head-explodingly good this feels. (Is that a word? Head-explodingly? If it's not, it should be.)
I’m melting. My insides have grown so hot that there’s nothing left to do but liquefy.
I don’t care anymore who’s looking at me from outside the hotel building, or whether my legs are strong enough to support my weight. I let go and rest my weight on Heath’s sturdy arms,
“You can move to the bed yourself if you want to, kitten,” Heath says. “I’m staying, though. But you’re free to go.”