“No, it doesn’t seem like he’d speak in such an intimate manner with his lawyer,” Milan confided to Irma, momentarily regarding the woman as friend instead of foe. “Who do you think he was talking to?”
Irma scrunched up her face as she thought. “To be honest with you, I think he was talking to Greer,” she said, twisting her lips in disgust.
“Greer! Why would he be talking to Greer? She’s fired!”
“She is? I thought Greer was on vacation.”
“No, I called the agency and had Greer replaced. I asked Ms. Henry to take care of Noah permanently.”
“Does Mr. Brockington know? He was really attached to Greer, you know,” Irma said, sounding apprehensive.
“No, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t need to know,” Milan softly scolded. “As long as Ms. Henry is performing her nursing duties satisfactorily, Noah won’t complain.”
The slice of seven-grain bread and the hard boiled egg she’d planned to have with the orange juice no longer interested her. Draining the juice, she handed Irma the empty tumbler. “Where’s Miss Henry?”
Irma gave Milan a look. “Where do you think? She’s in the library; where else would she be?”
Slowed by her aching muscles, Milan maneuvered past Irma and then managed to whirl out of the kitchen. It was time for the nurse to stop her incessant reading and start earning her keep. Having his perverted yearnings satisfied was a surefire way of keeping Noah’s mind off Greer.
Milan stormed into the spacious library. Sure enough, Nurse Henry was lounging, smiling, with her head buried in something by Shakespeare. Milan rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “It’s time for Mr. Brockington’s soothing.” Milan spoke sternly. Her voice echoed inside the quiet room, startling Ruth Henry.
The book slipped from the nurse’s hands and plopped into her lap. She picked the book up, saved her page with her own personalized bookmark, and frowned down at her watch. “I thought you said to give Mr. Brockington a back rub and…do that other thing after lunch.”
“Change of plans. I don’t know how to put it in medical terminology, but I need you to take care of him whenever it’s necessary.”
“You want me to do it PRN?”
“I guess,” Milan said absently. “What’s PRN?”
“In nurse’s lingo, PRN,” Ruth Henry informed her, “is the abbreviation for ‘as required.’”
Milan narrowed her eyes coldly. “That’s exactly what I want you to do. Soothe him as required. And it’s required right now,” she said bluntly and then watched Ruth’s expression flicker from anger to acceptance. Resignedly, Ruth closed the book. The nurse had never asked for extra compensation or any type of bonus. Apparently, the fear of being ejected from the library motivated the woman to agree to provide anal probing—PRN. Now, that’s sick! Milan thought, shaking her head disgustedly.
Ruth Henry caressed the book and then placed it in an empty space on one of the many shelves. Straightening her shoulders, she left the library to administer to her patient.
Milan’s thoughts turned back to Greer. Her lips turned up in a spiteful grin. That greedy heifer would have to peddle her pills elsewhere. Greer could try every trick in the book, but she would never get back into the Brockington estate. Not with Milan standing guard.
Milan used a pleasant-sounding, professional voice for the first three messages she left on Gerard’s voice mail. There was an annoyed lilt in her tone by the sixth message. She marked the tenth message urgent. And by the fifteenth, she pleaded with Gerard, begged him to please return her call. But hours elapsed without a word from him. Clutching her cell phone, she finally fell asleep.
Early the next morning she was jolted awake when the phone vibrated against her hand. “Hello?”
“It’s Gerard.”
Milan’s heart leaped into her throat. “Good morning,” she murmured and excitedly sat up straight. Just hearing his deep sexy voice made her want to forgive his delay in returning her calls. But being a business professional, Milan couldn’t stop herself from bringing up the subject. “I left a million messages yesterday,” she said in a mildly chastising tone.
“Yeah, you were on some kind of rant.”
“I wasn’t on a rant. Well…not by choice. I’m surprised you’re not more professional. Being self-employed…um…you know, I thought it would be in your best interest to return calls in a timelier manner.”
“Milan,” Gerard said with the patience of a tolerant parent, then his tone toughened. “You only needed to leave one message. I caught your drift, you didn’t have to say the same thing over and over. When you filled my mail box to capacity, you prevented my other clients from being able to get in touch. That’s bad business.”
“I’m sorry. I was just so anxious to get started. I didn’t mean—”
“Your behavior yesterday was a little over the top. I called to tell you that I’ve changed my mind about accepting you as a client. You’re too headstrong a person; my instincts tell me that I can’t train you. You’re obstinate. Much too willful to submit to rigorous training.”
Panic seized Milan. Wanting to get in better shape was just a ruse. She didn’t need to fit into a wedding gown but she had to keep up the charade to be near Gerard and hopefully get in bed with him. She’d never had a boyfriend, never wanted one, and had most definitely never experienced the rush of first love. Was she experiencing love for the first time? Undoubtedly, she’d felt a severe physical attraction to Gerard at first sight. But was that really love? How could she know when she had no comparative experiences? Milan had always been strictly about self.
Her rational mind told her she was being obsessive, the way she’d been about her career. Perhaps she was replacing her lost occupation with Gerard, fixating on him to fill a void. Whatever the case, she needed this man. To her utter shame and bewilderment, she needed this beautiful stranger from out of the blue as desperately as she needed to breathe. Losing him was not an option. She’d say, do, and be whatever he desired. Nothing was more important than getting back in his good graces.
“I’m not willful,” Milan protested. “I was excited about getting started. I apologize for my behavior. I promise it won’t happen again.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Milan literally crossed her fingers as she waited for Gerard to make a decision.
“I’m going to put you on the schedule…”
Milan breathed a sigh of relief and then smiled broadly.
“But you’re on probation,” Gerard added. “I’ll fit you into a half-hour slot for now. During that half-hour, I’ll go over my rules and regulations. If you cooperate fully, I’ll give you a full hour.”
A half-hour? What could she accomplish in that measly amount of time? But she didn’t dare complain, she simply said, “Thank you.”
“I’ll see you in an hour,” Gerard told her and then terminated the call.
Confused, Milan stared at the tiny phone in her hand. He’d hung up without giving her any instructions. Should she be prepared to pay for the session? She didn’t want to offend him with a monetary offer if he wasn’t willing to accept payment yet. As she pondered the payment aspect of their relationship, the phone buzzed in her hand. He’d read her mind! She and Gerard had to be soul mates or something. Delighted, she flipped it open. “Hi,” she gushed happily.
“You sure sound cheerful,” Sweetie said, suspiciously. “What’s up? Did that old man croak or something?”
“Damn. You have such horrible timing. I was expecting a call from someone else.”
“My bad. Excuse me for intruding,” Sweetie said sarcastically. “Dang. Can’t even be nice to you.”
“I’m sorry, Sweetie, my mind is on something else right now.”
“Something other than your lavish wedding? Now, that’s a surprise. Anyway, I had some free time and was just calling to find out if you needed me to do anything, but never mind. I’ll just continue to do what you always accuse me of doing—put up my feet, yak on the phone, and
watch TV.”
Milan sighed. “The wedding is off.”
Sweetie gasped. “You’re kidding. What happened? Ol’ Dude caught on to your schemin,’ gold-diggin’ ass?”
“You’re so crude. In response to your question, Noah didn’t catch on to anything. We’re still getting married. But I’ve decided that due to his declining health, a big extravaganza wouldn’t be in his best interests.”
“Hmm. You’re talkin’ to your big sis. And I know you like the back of my hand. What’s the real reason you’re calling off the big shindig? Is Ol’ Dude refusing to pay or did you decide to spend all that money on something else?”
“Sweetie, go play sleuth with someone else. I told you the reason. Now, I have to go. I have somewhere to be in less than an hour.”
“Hold up. What about all that cake you promised? I held up my end of the bargain—you still gon’ break me and Quantez off?”
“Yes, Sweetie, you and Quantez will benefit when I marry Noah,” Milan said, shaking her head in exasperation. “Look, I have to go; I’ll talk to you later.”
There wasn’t enough time to look her best. In less than fifteen minutes, Milan threw together a barely presentable look, dashed past Noah’s bedroom, and raced down the stairs and out the front door.
chapter twenty-three
Milan rang Gerard’s doorbell several times but he didn’t answer. The sight of his truck parked in front of his house was comforting. At least he was home, not miles away stuck in traffic. It wasn’t as cold as the day before and she didn’t mind waiting outside, so she went back to her car and sat. Patiently, she applied mascara and lip gloss and fussed with her hair. Forty minutes later, Gerard opened the front door. Any lingering doubt that she was prepared to do anything he demanded quickly faded the moment she saw his face. He was the picture of masculine perfection. She immediately felt a sense of overwhelming gratitude at being given a second chance.
On some level, she realized that her feelings for Gerard went beyond a passing interest. She had willingly crossed a threshold and embraced a new lifestyle. It was such a contradiction of her personality for strong-willed and feisty Milan Walden to allow Gerard to subdue her. But there was no denying that obeying Gerard and submitting to his will aroused her, making her pussy throb with expectancy.
The visual she’d held in her mind for the past few days did not do Gerard justice. In person, she was reminded that he was unnaturally handsome, without flaw. Gerard wore sweats and flaunted his biceps in a sleeveless T-shirt. His feet, exposed in a pair of black Armani flip-flops, were smooth and manicured. His shaved head was shaped perfectly. Milan felt warmed by his magnificent presence.
Instead of going down to the basement, Gerard motioned for Milan to take a seat in the living room. It was toasty and warm inside, but he didn’t offer to take her coat. Though she wore cashmere-lined leather gloves and had a wool scarf draped loosely around her neck, she didn’t dare remove any article of outerwear or even unbutton her coat without Gerard’s explicit permission.
He sat in a chair that faced her and folded his hands. “I asked you if you understood the nature of our relationship. You told me that you did. I don’t happen to believe that you do.”
She didn’t protest. She was silent, waiting for Gerard to continue.
“I can sculpt an ordinary body into a work of art.”
Milan felt let down, but she didn’t show her disappointment. She didn’t really care about a sculpted body. She only cared about being with Gerard.
Gerard looked at her intently. “I get the impression you’re not committed to improving your body.”
Milan’s face flushed. Damn, I’m busted.
“And that’s too bad,” he said, shaking his head. “To me, you’re a piece of clay that could be shaped and molded into the perfect woman—my perfect mate.”
Perfect mate! Now, he had Milan’s undivided attention. Her eyes, filled with adoration, focused on Gerard’s face.
“I’m glad I tore up the contract you signed,” he said, nodding his head as if ripping up Milan’s contract was the best idea he’d had in quite a while.
Milan’s heart dropped. “I thought you were preparing a new contract?”
“I didn’t get around to it. Glad I didn’t waste your time or mine.”
Unable to bear being dismissed again, she stared at him in dismay. Then she started talking fast. “I’ll be honest with you—I was at the gym looking for a trainer, then for no reason that I can explain, I just changed my mind.” Milan conveniently withheld all information concerning her pending nuptials. “When I saw you…” Abruptly, her words halted. She dropped her gaze and focused on her hands, which were folded in her lap. “I felt an immediate and profound attraction,” she admitted. “Gerard,” she said softly, “I’ve never experienced the kinds of thoughts that I have about you.”
“What kind of thoughts?” he asked.
She forced herself to look at him. “Sexual thoughts. I think about you and me—us—constantly. My fantasies are so bizarre…” Milan paused, shaking her head. “I’m starting to wonder about my sanity. The freakish thoughts that run through my mind wouldn’t be considered normal.”
Milan’s admission did not prompt Gerard’s eyes to grow large and lustful; he didn’t give her a sly smile or throw her down to the floor to ravish her body; instead, he asked with an impassive expression, “What do you imagine, Milan?”
She silently scanned her mind for an answer that would tantalize Gerard and keep him interested. “I don’t care about myself,” she blurted, shocked by her admission. Since when didn’t she care about herself? Was that a true statement? With no time to analyze her own sick psyche, Milan forged ahead. Uncensored and unrestricted words spilled from her lips. “I want to fulfill all your sexual desires.”
“Where exactly is this going?” He checked his watch impatiently. “Could you be more specific?” he said, obviously unimpressed.
Her stomach tightened. Gerard’s lack of enthusiasm made her nervous. Fearing he’d soon become annoyed and send her home, she spoke quickly, “I see myself being controlled by you. Being forced to do any freaky thing you want me to do.”
“Milan,” he said, with laughter. “I’m not that guy. You have me all wrong. What makes you think I’d enjoy forcing you to do anything?” He gave her an indulgent look. “Take the other day for example. Did I force you to get down on your knees? Did I give you any indication that I was trying to do anything other than help you improve your body?”
Yes! You certainly did give me the impression that you wanted me down on my knees! Milan wanted to protest loudly, but instead, she said in a voice thin with worry, “No, you didn’t force me to do anything.”
“Then why’d you drop down and try to give me head?” he asked calmly.
She had to force her mouth to stay shut. What kind of game was Gerard playing? He’d pressed her face into his crotch, taunting her with the possibility of giving him head and then he’d pulled her to her feet. Squirming miserably, she felt she had no choice but to go along with Gerard’s game. “I couldn’t help myself,” she said with a shrug. “If you would have allowed it, I would have done a lot more,” Milan confessed.
Gerard nodded in thought. “I want you to know…,” he said, briefly pausing to make eye contact, “I enjoyed our moment.”
Elated by his admission, she wanted to flash a cheesy grin, but she restrained herself, kept her face straight and continued to conduct herself in a serious manner.
“You made me feel good by willingly expressing your feelings with me. I don’t want to force you into anything. Dominating you by force would not be pleasing,” Gerard said. “Understand?”
She wasn’t sure if she understood, but nodded anyway. “I’m sorry,” she said, sounding contrite. “Words can’t adequately express what I’m feeling. These emotions are so new. I’m confused.”
“I need you to articulate your feelings. I want to have a clearer understanding.”
Why
was he making her squirm? How much clearer could she be? Didn’t he get it? She wanted him to take control. To own her. Milan swallowed nervously. “When I’m near you, close to you like this, I get a rush. It’s more than sexual. The need to touch you is so powerful…when you deny me, when you won’t let me see you, it makes me cry.” Her voice caught. Pouring her heart out was embarrassing. Yet at the same time, she was intensely aroused by the extreme humiliation. “Gerard, would you please give me another chance?” she asked, humbling herself further. Though it was mind-boggling, she was unable to stop herself from begging. She was asking for another opportunity to touch him. To suck his dick. There was little doubt that she’d lost her mind. But she didn’t care. In this moment, the only thing that mattered was coming up with creative ways to serve him.
“Let me show you how devoted I can be,” Milan told him.
Standing with his arms folded, Gerard’s eyes challenged her. “Show me,” he said in a low tone.
Still fully clad in her coat and scarf, she slid off the sofa and sank to the floor and groveled at his feet. Her lips brushed the top of his bare foot, hesitantly at first, and then with much ardor. Filled with waves of unbridled passion, she urgently kissed each foot. She licked the sides of his feet, her tongue slipping in and out, caressing the space between his toes.
Accepting her desire to worship him, Gerard bent and patted the top of Milan’s head.
Had she not been jolted by the peal of the doorbell, Milan would have bathed his feet with her tongue. Gerard looked at the door and glanced down at Milan. “Don’t answer it. Please!” she begged him. Her parted lips were eager to journey upward from his feet.
But he slowly withdrew his foot. Milan moaned. It was a soft strangled sound. Again, the feelings of humiliation and rejection were oddly stimulating. Milan was past the point of ordinary arousal. Her panties were drenched, and painful daggers of desire shot straight into her pussy, making her clench up and emit soft cries of acute yearning.
A Bona Fide Gold Digger Page 15