by Regina Wade
Brooklyn seems satisfied with this answer, chewing it over thoughtfully as she follows me inside. Then her bright blue eyes fix on the garment bag slung casually over my shoulder.
“But, Beau,” she hisses in horrified realization. “I didn’t pack. I don’t have a single stitch of clothing besides what I’m wearing!”
“I know,” I grin wickedly at her. “I scheduled time to hit Fifth Avenue.”
If you’re going to play Oliver Warbucks, you should do it all the way.
Chapter 10
Brooklyn
She works hard for the money. So hard for it, honey. She works hard for the money so you better treat her right. — Donna Summer, ‘She Works Hard for the Money’
“Have you ever been to Brooklyn before?” Beau smiles at me. His tone is playful, full of teasing promise
“My first time,” I shake my head at him with a laugh. “Shocking, I know.”
My hand is in his again, this time as we’re strolling beneath a row of lush pink cherry blossom trees in full blossom. The Brooklyn Botanical Gardens are like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Verdant stretches of green lawns, miles of vibrant exotic flowers, and sparkling pools of water. All in the middle of the most exciting, eclectic, electric city I’ve ever seen.
I love the cheerful sprays of daffodils, the mournful shadows cast by the dripping willows. But it’s the knobby branches and thick trunks of the cherry trees that really capture my heart. Wispy tendrils of pink blossoms are everywhere, a work of art come to life.
“I’ve seen these trees in pictures before,” I take a deep breath and look around for the millionth time in a row. “They’re so much more incredible in person.”
There are a dozen different shades of pink and white splashed against the blue of the New York sky above us. It’s our second day in The City. True to his word, Beau and I spent all of yesterday shopping for even more clothes and accessories at some of the city’s most famous big names— and a few I’d never even heard of before. I have no idea where it’s all going to fit in my tiny little room; though I suppose that won’t be a problem for long either, if he’s to be believed. It’s all so much, such a whirlwind.
It should be overwhelming. I should be scared, should be terrified. Should at the very least feel out of place at the way I’ve been suddenly thrust into Beau’s world. Instead, it’s all exciting.
Maybe it’s the way I feel so comfortable around Beau. Just like he makes it easy to come to him with questions about work, giving guidance without being overbearing or preachy. He genuinely enjoys me and my company as much as I enjoy his. It makes the differences between us less like obstacles and more fun workarounds.
I was expecting a day of work today. Maybe a whirlwind tour of all the must-see tourist attractions. Once again, Beau caught me off guard. I’m starting to expect the unexpected from him, though.
We had lunch at his favorite hole in the wall pizzeria. It was a tiny mom and pop shop, run by a boisterous actual mom and pop with thick Italian accents. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen anyone casually slip a hundred dollar bill in a cracked countertop tip jar.
Beau asked me what I wanted to do for the rest of the day, and I told him to surprise me.
As usual, he came through in the biggest way possible.
“They’re beautiful.” There’s a quiet reverence in Beau’s voice as he looks up at the flowering masterpiece we’re standing under. “You know,”
He looks back at me, examining my face with the same intensity he was just scrutinizing the flowers and trees around us.
“The cherry blossoms are incredibly picky. They’ll only bloom when they’re ready.”
“Oh yeah?” I’m looking at Beau’s face instead of the flowers now too. It’s too beautiful not to.
“Yes.” He takes a step closer to me. “Each tree blooms in its own time, when the time and temperature and conditions are just right. On their own terms.”
I can feel a little heat climb high into my cheeks at his words.
“Maybe they’re just waiting to fall in love before they bloom.” My voice is a little strained. I wonder if he can see the flutter of my pulse at my throat.
I imagine he must. If he can’t see it, he has to be able to feel it a moment later, when he trails a finger lightly along my collarbone. We’re standing in the shade cast by one of the discriminating cherry trees in question, and the tender sensuality of the motion is enough to make my eyes flutter shut.
I feel his breath against my lips a moment later.
“Are you, Brook?” His lips are a whisper against me.
The vibration hums through my body, shooting from the sensitive nerves of my mouth straight to the wet slit of my lips between my thighs like an electric shock. I nod once, all pretense of embarrassment temporarily erased. I know what he’s asking, know the door I’ve opened up.
“I am,” I admit.
Again, there should be embarrassment. You don’t just go around telling your boss that you’re a virgin— waiting on real love before giving up your v-card even though you’re a grown-ass woman now.
There’s no use pretending Beau is nothing more than my boss anymore, though.
If there was even a lingering doubt that he meant every word of what he said to me in the back of that limo, Beau takes this moment to crush them against my lips. His hands slide easily into my curls, pulling me tight against him. My own hands move on instinct, sliding along the corded strength of his arms until I can wind them around his neck
The scent of the cherry blossoms fills my senses, a sweet background to the rich manliness that is Beau. I could pick him out of a lineup, blindfolded.
He kisses me gently at first, exploring my lips with his mouth with tenderness and care. It’s me that breaks first. On my tiptoes, I pull him closer, slip my tongue teasingly between the seam of his lips. There’s a hunger in me, a need that catches even me by surprise.
As usual, Beau seems to know exactly what to do. He shifts seamlessly, conquering my mouth with a powerful kiss that leaves me breathless. His mouth is suddenly everywhere, devouring me with skill and strength and little nips against my bottom lip. I hear a whimper, and it isn’t until he steps back into the dappled sunshine that I realize the needy sound came from my own mouth.
Beau’s smile is sharp, his green eyes blazing with the same hungry fire burning inside me as he looks me up and down.
“Looks like the cherry trees aren’t the only thing in bloom, Brook.”
Chapter 11
Beau
I wish I had a bass boat and a Z-28. But I guess that stuff’s gonna have to wait. Cuz I’m saving on a washer and a wedding ring. — John Anderson, ‘Money in the Bank’
“Nervous?” I ask Brooklyn.
“Me? Nah. I attend meetings with the one percent all the time. I do it in my spare time for fun, actually. It’s a hoot.” She’s babbling.
Normally I’d find that sort of thing off-putting, but from Brook it’s endearingly cute.
“Relax. Take a deep breath. All of these people put their pants on one leg at a time just like everyone else.” I pause. “Well, except for Claude. He has a prosthetic, top of the line, it’s basically a robot leg. When I saw it I bought the company that made it. Remind me to show you the factory some time.”
Brook shakes her head, grinning up at me.
“Distracting me with outrageously casual displays of wealth won't always work. You know that right?” Despite her words, the smile on her face is brighter than the sun. I would do anything to keep this woman smiling at me like that.
“Damn. Well, I’m hoping by the time that stops working I’ll have my hooks in you.” I give her my best saucy grin, which only earns me an eye-roll and a shove in return.
“Oh, so sorry. Didn’t realize I was interrupting. I’m early, aren’t I?” The voice from the door is a deep gravelly yet joyful tone. Like a chain-smoking Santa Claus.
“Not at all, Claude. This is Brooklyn. She’s my new assistant, at l
east until I can get her to agree to settle down with me.” I say smoothly, extending my hand to shake the man’s and ushering Brook forward.
If my casual mention of dating bothers her, Brook doesn’t show it. One blink and she’s shucked the nerves, smiling at Claude and extending her own hand for him to shake.
He grins at her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
“Ah, Beauregard has it bad for you, dear. I can tell. Good for you. Take him for everything he’s got. Don’t let him skimp out on anything. He’s got the money to spare. Aim high, maybe you’ll get an island.”
Brook’s grin grows wolfish. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a nefarious scheme. Don’t tell him about it though.”
I clear my throat, causing them both to chuckle.
“See, Claude? There won’t be any problems. Brook is every bit as capable as I am.”
“So I can see. And better looking, too.” Claude chuckles.
“Beau, what do you mean?” Brook whispers to me after Claude walks away to take his seat.
“Oh, it’s just a small thing. You’re running this little meeting we’re having.” I whisper back.
Her gorgeous blue eyes go wide in surprise and horror. I reach over, placing one big hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze. Even just this small contact is enough to make my cock swell in my slacks. The chemistry between us is electric.
“Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine. Just be yourself.”
Brooklyn laughs a little hysterically.
“Oh, yeah. I’ll wow them with my frugal tips to stretch out a can of tomato sauce across three meals. Beauregard Addison, what the hell have you gotten me into?” She hisses at me, stabbing my chest with one finger.
“Relax. These old guys will be eating out of your hand in no time, just like me.” I say, moving around behind her and placing my other hand on her other shoulder. I begin to massage her slowly, helping ease the tension.
“We’ve got to do something about all these knots in your back later.” I murmur against her ear.
“Mmhmm,” she moans, leaning back into my touch. Her body positively melts against mine, and I’m suddenly rethinking my entire plan for introducing her into the business world and introducing her pussy to my cock.
“Do you know how to swim, Brook?” I keep my voice low and calm like I’m talking to a skittish horse.
“No. Never really had anyone to teach me.”
“Well, my grandfather was a big believer in doing things old-school. He tossed me in the deep end. Sink or swim.”
“That’s terrible, Beau. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, continuing my massage.
“It wasn’t, though. It was the best way to learn. Some fears you just have to face. Well, you’re in the deep end now, baby. And the sharks are circling. But I’m right behind you. Don’t worry. I believe in you.”
“Well, that makes one of us,” Brook says jokingly.
I give her shoulders an extra squeeze.
“If it helps, you can picture them in their underwear.” I murmur as the rest of the people begin to file in. Handshakes are exchanged all around as they find their seats.
“Absolutely not helping.”
“Then picture me in mine.”
“That’s better, but it doesn't help me focus, Beau.” brook smiles at me, but I can tell she’s beginning to relax.
“That’s better. Now, everything’s set up for you. Just stick to the script, be yourself, and you’ll knock them dead.” I step away from her and press the dimmer switch in my pocket to bring the lights down. The projector kicks on, and Brook swings into action.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us here at Someday Came. I’m Brooklyn Jones, and I’ll be starting us off before turning things over to Mr. Addison. As you are no doubt aware, our annual figures…”
I smile as I step away and watch. Brook delivers a killer presentation, just like I knew she would. She’s got the entire group laughing and eating out of her hand in minutes.
My cock throbs, but it’s my heart that really grows three sizes as I watch her be witty, sassy, and intelligent. It’s as intoxicating as her curves, if not more.
This girl is the one.
It’s time to make her mine.
Chapter 12
Brooklyn
Started from the bottom, now we’re here. — Drake, ‘Started from the Bottom’
The skyline of downtown Manhattan takes my breath away.
I’ve never thought that the city could really be beautiful. The crowded sprawl where I grew up certainly wasn’t a sight to behold. The urban jungle stretching out below us is nothing less than awe-inspiring, though. Maybe down at the bottom it’s grungy, crowded, and dirty. But up here? Here it’s just a beautiful spectacle.
A spectacle I could get used to.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Beau asks as he leans against the balcony railing next to me. There’s a flute of Dom Perignon in one hand. His other is resting lightly on my back, a comforting presence.
“A penny? Surely you can pay more than that.” I smile up at him.
“I can pay whatever price you set.” He juts his chin out, his cocky grin on full display. He says it with all the bravado of being born into wealth and luxury and deciding it isn’t enough.
“Careful, Mr. Moneybags. There are some prices even you wouldn’t be willing to pay.” I brush him off, glancing away and trying yet again not to show how affected I am by his stature and power.
“You did that presentation better than I ever could,” he says.
I smile back at him, leaning against the railing. There’s a cool breeze blowing in. I feel good; freer than I have in a long time.
“Once I got started, the nerves melted away,” I admit to him. “I could never have gotten there without you. Thank you.”
The truth is that I’m done fighting this thing between us. Beau is right. Fate, love, or whatever this is— it doesn’t matter. I belong at his side.
“Of course. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Brook.” He sounds so earnest, so honest. I really believe him.
His hand moves from my back to cover mine on the railing. I glance back at him to find his face has been schooled into a severe, serious mask that looks almost out of place.
“I mean it, Brooklyn. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. To get closer to you. How many different ways do I need to prove myself?” He stops leaning on the railing, turning to face me.
His words make my heart swell. I can tell he’s serious.
“Kiss me.” The words tumble off my lips of their own accord like my body assumed direct control and bypassed my brain altogether.
I don’t have time to think about that, though, because Beau is leaning in, pulling me against him with one big arm. I can smell his aftershave and more: the scent that’s uniquely him: old, well-oiled leather and fresh, crisp money.
He leans in close, his stubble grazing me. I bite my lip in anticipation, but the kiss I want doesn’t come.
“Relax. You’re too tense.” Beau whispers, his breath tickling my lips and nose. I realize that he’s right and make a conscious effort to ease myself.
“I can’t help it.” I murmur against him. The agony of waiting, perched on the precipice, waiting for him to kiss me is almost too much to bear.
“Do I make you that nervous?” His voice is soft and low, like the low purr of a big cat. Like a lion on the hunt, I realize. And I’m the gazelle he’s about to ravage.
“Yes,” I whisper.
His hands brush across my arms, skimming along the exposed skin there before moving to my back. The gorgeous gown I’m wearing is modest in the front, but my entire back is exposed almost all the way down to the crack of my ass. His wandering hands don’t stop at the seam of the dress, either.
I gasp at the sudden contact of his big, warm palm with the cheek of my ass. That’s when he finally kisses me, taking full advantage of my shock to push his tongue into my mouth.
E
ven with nothing to compare it to, I know kissing Beau is utterly different than it would be with anyone else. He is as ruthless with my mouth and body as he is in the business world. My assets are seized, my pussy liquidated as he almost makes me climax just from the feeling of his lips against mine.
It’s embarrassing how easily this man conquers my body. Like everything else in the world, it belongs to him.
But I want more.
“Beau, I need you. I need more than just a kiss.”
“Is that your price? Because that’s the worst negotiating tactic ever, if it is.” His tone is amused, but his eyes are heavy with a hunger that elicits a thrill of trepidation and need. I never want him to stop looking at me like that.
“It’s not my price, no. That’ll come later. You said you’d be willing to pay anything. Hand me a blank cheque. So agree to pay my price, whatever I say it is, and I’m yours.” My brain finally catches up to my body and stops me from just giving myself to him.
Not that I don’t want to, but I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t sell myself for anything less than I was worth. And what I want from Beau is nothing less than everything. Not one night. Not even just the power and knowledge he’s already promised. I want forever from him.
“Done.” Beau doesn't even pause, doesn't even hesitate. If he was anyone else, I’d wonder if he realized exactly what he just agreed to. But this is Beau Addison we’re talking about. The richest, smartest, most successful man in the history of history. There’s no doubt that some logical core, some analytical part of his brain knows exactly the power he just gave me.
There’s something even sexier about that than there is the feeling of his hand squeezing my ass.
I slip my hands up, pulling at the straps of my gown. Tugging them loose. The exquisite silk caresses my body almost as deftly as Beau’s hands as it drifts down around me, sliding down to puddle at my feet.