by Roya Carmen
I smile as I settle back at my desk. “Okay… I’ll just say one thing. It wasn’t so much a little slap and tickle as it was a little slap and nibble.”
Her jaw drops. “Well, who knew Mr. Boss Man had that in him. He seems like such a civilized gentleman, all proper and stuff. Well, goes to show you can never judge a book by its cover. It’s always the stiff-upper-lip types who are the wildest in the sheets.”
“Not another word,” I scoff. I press a finger against my closed mouth. “Mum’s the word.”
I don’t see Weston again for the rest of the day, and it drives me crazy. He’s driving me insane with these small bits of teasing and attention. I want more. I want more than stolen touches and sweet words. But then again, I’ve made up the rules myself: no sex, no kissing. Why the heck am I complaining? Should I amend the agreement?
The truth is I’m scared. I’m scared of going too far, and regretting it. I’m terrified of falling for him and getting hurt. I also worry about crossing lines and losing my job.
And I love the dance.
21
I get a text from Samuel in the afternoon.
Change of plans. How about a meal at my place?
My breath hitches. I don’t like the idea of that at all.
I prefer the restaurant idea, I reply.
My daughter will be there. You could bring Ethan. I make a great meatloaf.
It sounds innocent enough. I suppose I could. Maybe he’s trying to save money.
Sure… sounds good. Where do you live?
He sends me his address and we agree on a time. I’m looking forward to it, but I also have a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly, I feel like I’m involved with three different men: Samuel, Weston, and Donovan.
And I’m not sure I can handle them all.
I wake up on Friday with a sore bum. I’m looking at my reflection in the wall mirror, standing in nothing but a t-shirt and undies. I pull up the hem of my panties, and see that he’s left an impressive bruise. I’m fascinated by it. I don’t know how I feel about it. It’s kind of a turn-on, but also a little unsettling.
“Mommy booboo,” Ethan says, making me jump about a foot.
I attempt to catch my breath again. “Ethan… jeez. You can’t sneak up on people like that.” As soon as I say the words, I realize how silly they are — the kid is two.
“Mommy hurt?” he asks, pouting.
I kneel down and give him a hug. “Mommy is okay.” Mommy is more than okay. Mommy is getting her bum bitten by a delicious tall glass of a man. Life could definitely be worse.
We head to the kitchen for breakfast, and I shoot a quick text to Weston.
You left a mark yesterday. I hope you’re proud of yourself. :)
My phone pings as I’m pouring Ethan a bowl of his favorite cereal.
Yes, I am. I want to leave my mark on you, so you’ll think of me when I’m not with you.
I smile.
Why, that’s quite possessive, Mr. Hanson.
—
You’re mine.
—
I laugh. You wish
—
Send me a photo. Boss Man wants to see what he’s done to his little grasshopper.
—
You are such a sadist.
—
I know. I really should address this with my therapist.
—
You should. Definitely.
—
I will be awaiting your photo impatiently.
I shake my head as I pour Ethan a glass of juice.
I don’t know what possesses me, but after Ethan and I have eaten our breakfast, I retreat to my room, and pull down my undies and snap a photo. My pulses races as I send him the pic, wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I’m a mom. I’m not supposed to be sending pics of my ass to men. Especially when said man is my boss.
His reply comes instantly.
Beautiful. I will cherish it forever.
I laugh. What a twisted man. I wonder what my friends would have to say about this.
I best not tell them.
There’s another message from Weston waiting for me when I get to the office.
Come to my office as soon as you can.
I smile, wondering what he’s up to now.
When I walk past Rosetta, she shoots me a mischievous grin. “A little morning bouncy bouncy?”
I jerk around. “For the last time… we’re not having sex.”
She dips her head back to her keyboard. “Sure.”
I blow out a breath, realizing it’s useless to try to reason with her. She’s like a child.
Weston is all smiles when he sees me. He motions me over.
I close the distance between us, itching for his touch. As soon as I get close enough, he reaches under my skirt and spins me around. He lifts the fabric very slowly, seductively, and my skin prickles in anticipation.
He rubs soft circles over my bruise. “Oh, who has done this to you, sweet girl?”
I spin around. “A certain beautiful predatory man,” I whisper. “He’s quite peculiar.”
He smiles. “You may go back to work now, Grasshopper.”
What?
“That’s it?”
He laughs. “Unfortunately, I have a lot to do today, and besides I like to see you suffer a little.”
“You’re a cruel man.” I pout. “I kind of hate you.”
His soft smile stretches into a shit-eating grin. “I know.”
I sigh audibly. “If I’m to be completely honest, I’m not too crazy about this teasing game you like to play.”
He cocks a brow. “You play in my house, you play by my rules.”
I smile. “Well, in that case, maybe I should have you over to my place.”
His face lights up. “That’s a wonderful idea. I’d love to. Ethan and I could get to know each other.”
“Uh…” I’m taken aback. I didn’t expect this. Did I just inadvertently invite him over for dinner?
“I can’t wait,” he says. “When were you thinking?”
“Uh… this Saturday?”
“Tomorrow? Perfect… I’m free. Can I bring anything?”
“A bottle of wine,” I suggest. “Maybe dessert. Ethan and I love donuts.”
He smiles. “Done. What will you be serving?” he asks. “For the wine choice,” he clarifies.
“Oh…” I have no clue. “I’ll let you know.”
I leave with a smile, but it fades as soon as I reach the hall. What the hell am I going to make for Mr. Boss Man? What if he hates it?
“No nookie today?” Rosetta teases.
“What?”
“You look upset,” she explains. “I assume no nookie.”
I shake my head. The woman is really starting to get on my nerves. “No… no nookie,” I scoff as I take a seat at my desk. “Satisfied now?”
“Boy, the man needs to give you some. And soon!”
I wonder if this could be considered a hostile work environment. I ponder the thought as I delve into my current project.
“So, no sex yet?” Abigail asks, cappuccino in hand.
I blow out a breath. “I can’t complain. It was me who insisted on the no sex clause in the agreement.”
She reaches for her muffin. “You could always change it.”
“Yes, we’ve already made a few amendments… small things. But I… I feel like I’m not ready. Every time I picture us making love, Donovan’s face pops up. And sometimes Donovan’s mother’s face.”
“Oh, Lord.” She winces. “That’s horrible. His mother’s face?”
I laugh. “I know… I’m messed up. I should probably get therapy.”
She smiles. “It’s not that complicated. You obviously feel guilty.”
She’s not telling me anything I don’t know already. Of course I feel guilty. For one thing, I still don’t believe I deserve any love or affection of any kind. If it weren’t for me, Ethan would still have a father. And second, Patricia has
been so helpful, putting her own life on hold to help us out. If she knew what I’ve been up to, she’d be appalled. And if she knew what really happened that day in Mexico, she’d probably never speak to me again.
And then there’s Ethan. He deserves a mother who can give him one hundred percent, and lately, I’ve been way too invested into Mr. Boss Man. Yes, this job is consuming, but it’s only for six months. And what happens after that?
I’ve seen the former Mrs. Hanson, and she’s nothing like me. She’s a goddess, and she’s an accomplished professional, probably as successful and intelligent as he is. Mr. Hanson has exceptionally high standards. It’s evident in everything about and around him. From the clothes he wears, to the penthouse he lives in, everything is top of the line.
I am certainly not top of the line.
I’m a curiosity if anything. I’m young and fun, an escape. Sure, he loves my ass, my flirty little skirts, and my blue hair. He loves his playtime with me, but does he want to settle down with someone like me? Most likely not. He’s slumming it. The sweet good girl, and the domineering powerful boss. It’s all fun and games, until feelings get hurt.
And I have a feeling I’ll be the one who will get hurt. And that scares me to death.
The man has just been through a divorce. He’s probably not ready for a relationship either. He’s just having fun. And so am I. If we make love, I’ll get attached. I just know it.
No, we can’t cross that line.
“Jeez, Gretchen. You look like you’re trying to solve global warming or something,” Abigail says. “Why so stressed out? Just have fun with it. You deserve a little fun.”
I smile. She’s right. “I know. That’s exactly what we’ve been having. Fun. I don’t think I’m ready for more.”
She breaks off a piece of her muffin, and shoots me a playful grin. “One step at a time, my friend.”
22
Weston comes bearing gifts: a bottle of red wine, a box of donuts, and a bag full of toys.
“Oh, you didn’t have to,” I say as he hands me the goods. “Thank you so much.”
I leave the bag of toys in the living room, and take the wine and donuts to the kitchen. Ethan makes a sudden appearance, all smiles. “Mister,” he cheers, excited as can be. My heart breaks for a moment. Ethan is an extrovert like his dad. He loves people.
“Hello, little guy,” Weston offers. “How are you?”
I smile, completely charmed by his awkwardness. I swoop in and take Ethan’s hand. “Remember Weston, Ethan? He lives upstairs. He brought you lots of toys.” I figure we might as well break out the toys now. No time like the present.
Ethan’s eyes are wide as saucers as I hand him the colorful xylophone, silently cursing Weston because those things are noisy. I reach for the retro style plastic television. I crank the music and the looping image. It takes me back.
“Remember those?” he says. “They’re making them again. Replicas, almost identical to the originals.”
I’m mesmerized by the slow moving image, reminiscent of a simpler time. “That’s so cool.”
Ethan is banging on the xylophone. Bing. Bing. Bing. Thankfully, he soon loses interest and reaches for the television. I pull out a wooden puzzle, farm animals and a red barn. “Thank you so much for all these toys.”
Weston smiles, and I melt a little. That smile is powerful, sweet and sexy. “It’s the least I could do to repay you for the nice dinner I’m about to have.”
I laugh. “You shouldn’t thank me until you’ve tasted it.”
“I’m sure it will be great.”
“Well, someone like you is probably used to the finest restaurants, so please just lower your expectations for tonight.”
His gaze darts about my loft. “I just love being here. With you and Ethan,” he says. “It’s your place now… your rules.”
I grin. “Oh yes… I’m not done with you, Mister.”
I stand and offer my hand. He takes it and I pull him up. We head to the kitchen, leaving Ethan completely engrossed in his new toys. “Good thinking,” I tease. “Distracting the boy with new toys.”
He laughs. “My intentions were nothing but honorable, I swear,” he insists. “But now that you mention it…” He slides a hand under the skirt of my dress, and lifts the fabric. “Oh, damn… I love those.”
I smile, brought back to the delicate white panties I slipped on just for him. I open the refrigerator door. “I thought you’d approve, Mr. Hanson.”
“I do,” he says. “But I’m not liking this bruise. It’s turned purple. Is it painful?”
I turn to him. “Only when I sit.”
“Sorry,” he whispers against my ear.
“No more hard biting,” I scold. “I thought that was already specified in the agreement.”
“It was.”
“Hmmm… maybe you should be spanked,” I tease. “For not adhering to the agreement.”
He laughs out loud. “I’m the only one who doles out spankings.”
I smile. It seems like a double standard, but I’m quite okay with it.
The lasagna, my grandmother’s recipe, is already in the oven. The bread is baking in the breadmaker, and all that’s left are the appetizers and Caesar salad. I’ve already prepared the stuffed jalapeño peppers, and pull them out to bake. “You like spicy food, right?”
He kisses my shoulder. “As much as the next guy.”
I set the tray down on the counter, and push him away. “You need to stay off of me. I’ll never be able to get dinner ready if you don’t.”
He backs up reluctantly. “Yes, Ma’am.”
He watches me intently as I dance around the kitchen, fetching this and that. Every now and then, I check on Ethan who is still happily playing with his new toys. I steal a few glances at Weston, who looks delicious, dressed in all black. He looks sexy and dangerous. I suddenly want him to bite me again.
“I’m going to go say hello to Ethan,” he says. “If that’s okay.”
“Sure, yes.” I’m delighted to see him show an interest in Ethan. “Please go ahead.”
I watch him as he crouches down and settles next to Ethan. He chats with him, asking him many questions, most of which Ethan doesn’t answer. But he squeals and giggles. I can tell he likes Weston. But then again, Ethan likes most people.
Quite a while later, Weston is still entertaining my boy, and the salad and appetizers are finally ready. The table is set, and the lights are dimmed. I invite them to the kitchen, and Weston helps me get Ethan settled into his booster seat. I have cheese and crackers for Ethan. “Feel free to have some crackers and cheese if you don’t like the stuffed peppers.”
He helps himself to one, and I impatiently await his verdict.
He closes his eyes as he chews for the longest time. “Delicious,” he finally says and I smile, glad to have his approval.
“Spicy,” he says and reaches for his glass of water.
I laugh. “You can’t handle spicy, Mr. Hanson?”
“Oh, I can.”
“Can I open the wine?” he asks.
I nod, and hand him the wine bottle opener. I watch him as he uncorks the wine, and pours us both a generous amount. Ethan is happily enjoying his orange juice.
We settle at the table and both watch Ethan inhale his small cubes of cheese and crackers. None of us say a word for the longest time. “So the other day…” I start. One of many great things about having a two-year old is that they can’t really understand anything you say. “With the tie… you do that a lot?”
A slow smile curves his lips. “I haven’t for years. I did occasionally… with my wife. She liked that kind of thing. A husband needs to keep bedroom activities interesting.”
I laugh. “I bet he does,” I tease. “So it’s not usually your thing.”
“I certainly don’t mind it,” he tells me. “But no… yet… when I saw you standing there, in front of my tie collection, I was suddenly very inspired. I don’t know what it is about you, but you inspir
e me to venture outside the ordinary.”
“All the boys say that about me,” I joke. Ironically, I’ve only been with one man.
He laughs. “I think it’s because you’re playful.”
I smile. “I am… I suppose. It used to get on Donovan’s nerves sometimes. He accused me of acting like a child more than once.”
“He was a serious type, was he?”
“Sometimes,” I say. “But he also had a great sense of humor. He could always make me laugh.”
“That’s key,” he says. “Bridget and I didn’t laugh often. It’s probably one of the reasons I turned to Mirella. She also had a childlike quality about her. She was never too serious… not until the end.”
Mirella.
“You really loved her, didn’t you?” I ask, a pang of jealousy at the pit of my stomach, jealousy over a woman I’ve never met, a happily married woman who lives hundreds of miles away.
“I did,” he admits. “And she broke my heart. And I believe I broke hers a little too.”
“I bet you did.”
Ethan throws his sippy cup on the floor, and we both bend down to retrieve it. We resurface and smile at each other.
“Tell me about her,” I say. “About Mirella… how is she doing?”
He smiles. “She’s happy. I can see it in the photos she shares. Her daughters are beautiful. Chloe looks like Gabe… that’s Mirella’s husband, and Claire looks more like her. They’re thirteen and eleven now, I believe. She still paints watercolors and teaches. She still visits often with her best friend. And she still collects brooches. She has a happy life. And I’m happy for her. We made the right decision. Both she and I.”
“Who broke it off?” I ask. I know I’m being super nosy, but I can’t help it.
“She did initially. I couldn’t let go… A lot happened, and eventually, I did. I made a conscious decision to let her go.”