Now, Please

by Willow Summers

  Shivers racked my body as he hugged me again, resting his cheek on the top of my head.

  “You’re the first woman I’ve trusted without protection,” he said quietly. “Don’t bother asking me why—I don’t know. Maybe I’m tired of controlling my own destiny. Maybe I want fate to step in and show me the way. But it feels right, and I trust you.”

  “No offense, but if the roles were reversed, no way would I trust you.” I kissed his neck to make light of the comment. “Men are forgetful, and I can barely take care of myself.”

  He chuckled softly. “You don’t need to take care of yourself. That’s what I’m for.” He kissed me on the temple. “Will you stay the night with me tonight? I don’t know what comes next—we’re back in the gray area. Life is chaos with you. But I would like to sleep near you.”

  “I could do with a little making out. And I’ll say no a few times, just to give you the sense of your first time…”

  “You wouldn’t be able to say no to me.” I heard the passion ring through his voice.

  “Challenge accepted.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I stood from the bed and put my bear near my pillows. Hunter grabbed it as he stood. “To give you a little piece of home at my house.”

  I slipped my hand through his as we left the bedroom. We didn’t make it far, though, without my mother sounding the alarm.

  “Oh, honey, are you leaving so soon?” She rushed toward us with two glasses of wine. “Here, have a drink. Mingle!”

  “We were just leaving, Mom.” I pulled Hunter to the door.

  “Nonsense—there are a few people who want to meet you and your illustrious guest. It’s not often we have one of the business elite in this house. Now the house is full of them!” My mom playfully put her hand on Hunter’s arm as she giggled.

  A fifty-year-old giggling like a schoolgirl was a little off-putting, to say the least. Being that it was my mom as well—I wasn’t really in the mood. Still, I rarely said no when she gave me an entreaty like this. Too much like my dad, I guess.

  I glanced at Hunter. “A minute?”

  He didn’t respond, which meant yes. To my mother’s delight, I led him through the foyer and to the living room beyond where a crowd of fifteen or so people stood around idly, chatting and sipping beverages. They all looked up as Hunter came in the room. A few eyes brightened. One man even stepped forward with an outstretched hand.

  “Hunter Carlisle, what an honor!” The graying man shook Hunter’s hand with vigor. “It’s not often I see you outside of a business meeting.”

  “Mr. Evens.” Hunter shook his hand before wrapping his arm around my middle.

  “He came to see my daughter. This is—”

  A tall man with silver hair stepped forward with an outstretched hand. “Mr. Carlisle, we’ve not met. I’m Sean Hutch. I’ve worked with your dad on a few projects.”

  My mother gave Sean a proud smile and laid her hand on his arm. “He’s very successful.”

  Hunter took the hand with no expression before looking away. The smile wilted from Sean’s face as he said, “I’m just out here for a quick business trip.”

  Hunter glanced at my mom before looking around the room in disinterest. “I’m sure your family misses you, but these things have to be done.”

  “You’re not drinking your wine,” my mom hastened to say, reaching for Hunter’s glass. “Can I get you something else?”

  Hunter let her take the glass before turning more solidly into me. “I’m just waiting to escort Olivia home.”

  “We’re ready.” I put my untried glass on the coffee table behind me. “Let’s go.”

  “So soon?” My mother followed us from the room like an earnest puppy. “Stay, you two!”

  “I’ll talk to you later, Mom.” I pulled open the front door and stepped outside, greeted by the soft California sun in late fall. The chill had me crossing my arms, but not making me wish I’d brought a jacket.

  “Well, okay. I’ll call you soon!” My mom watched as Hunter led me to the street to a sleek gray sports car.

  “Is that an Aston Martin?” I asked as we neared.

  “Yes. I trust you didn’t drive?”

  “No. Bus.” He opened the door for me and handed me inside. I sank down into the glorious leather as he slid into his side. The car roared to a start, high octane and full of power.

  “Money isn’t everything, but it sure can provide you with a nice ride.” I marveled as he smoothly pulled away from the curb.

  Hunter made his way through the tangle of streets. I thought back to my mom’s quick change in demeanor. “She’s never been that earnest with me. It was…weird.”

  “You two don’t have a great relationship.”

  I snorted. “That’s putting it mildly. I was a mistake that held her back. She thinks she would’ve landed a great catch had it not been for me.”

  “Yet she chose to let you live with her instead of your dad.”

  “There is that. She had a nicer house than my dad. Larger and better for a kid. That was part of the problem—she had to look after me. She couldn’t just leave at a moment’s notice. Her single life, and single body, was ripped away. But…you’re right. She did sacrifice. She made the effort to be a mom. And maybe that’s why I still keep in contact. And why I’ll still help her if ever I can. She’s not the best, but she’s my mom. You can’t turn your back on family.”

  It dawned on me who I was talking to. “I mean…you know, family that isn’t trying to ruin me. Unlike your dad. I fully support turning your back on your dad. He’s…” I picked at my nail. I couldn’t get my foot further in my mouth if I tried. “I think I’ll stop talking now…”

  Hunter reached across the space. His fingers threaded through mine. “I like that you keep in contact with your mother. I think you two would find things easier if she had more security. It seems to me that she’s in survival mode. You don’t see clearly when you’re worried for your future.”

  “Did you know my mom’s new boyfriend?” I asked as he was making his way to the freeway. “Sean, I guess.”

  “Heard of him. He’s a few years away from getting fired, or from landing in jail. His dealings are less than reputable.”

  “Yeah. I figured. My mom’s getting desperate, I think. She’s still stupidly pretty, but she’s getting up there. Plastic surgery can only go so far.” I looked out the window. “I wish I got some of her looks.”

  “You have her facial structure, but you have a natural beauty, whereas she is more manufactured.”

  I glanced at Hunter as the car lurched forward. The engine whined and picked up speed as we merged onto the freeway. From slow and steady to zooming past all the other cars in the space of a few seconds, we blasted into the fast lane before he let off the gas.

  “She’s had a lot of work done. She used to be a natural beauty,” I said as I unpeeled my fingers from around the handle in the door.

  “No. There are two types of beauty. One is the type that lends to hair dyes and plastic surgery. Those women can dress themselves up into what I call manufactured beauty, but they were really just pretty before that. Then there is your beauty. It’s unique. It can’t be bought. You assume that because society says you should have blond hair and huge eyelashes, and you don’t, that you aren’t gorgeous. When really, you’re unspoiled, untarnished gold. You don’t need makeup or hair dye. You look your absolute best with a big T-shirt and a sleepy smile.”

  I blinked back tears as I watched his face, utterly serious. “You might not say please, but you do say the sweetest things.”

  “It amazes me that any of that is news to you.”

  “My father said something similar, but he doesn’t count.” I wiped a tear from my cheek. “I’ve been living in my mother’s shadow for a long time. She hated that I wasn’t a mini-me.”

  “I know the feeling. You’ve met my father, after all.”

  “How about your mother? Did she ever remarry?”

  H
unter’s jaw tightened as anger flashed in his eyes. “No. She lost a lot of money in the divorce with my father—she’d brought the money to the marriage, but the prenup expired after ten years—my dad doesn’t fight fair.”

  “Even with his mistresses?”

  “California is a no-fault state. He was entitled to half, but he ended up with more since he sank a bunch into his company. She wasn’t destitute, by any means, but the whole situation…turned her off marriage. She rarely dates. My father ruined her chance of happiness in many ways.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yes.”

  We crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. The ocean sparkled below us, twinkling in the evening sunshine.

  “My father died right before I went to college,” I said as I looked out the window. “I miss him every day. He was such a good man. I spent my freshman year crying half the time. I think Kimberly was the only reason I made it through.”

  “She’s a sweetheart, Kimberly.”

  “Yes. And she interviewed for you.”

  I just barely caught Hunter’s quick glance. “Yes. Being my admin was no place for her. She would’ve become attached if she didn’t start to hate me first. If she did get attached, and I had to let her go, she still would’ve ended up hating me. Not a good fit.”

  “But she’s tougher about that stuff than I am.”

  Hunter turned off the main road. “I’ve already told you—I had to have you. There was no rhyme or reason for it; I just needed you. I knew you were the type to fall, and I knew you wouldn’t be okay with my setup, but…I wanted you. I’m selfish.”

  “You’re not selfish,” I muttered. We wound back through the large houses toward the cliff overlooking the ocean. “You live in here?”

  “My city house is here, yes.”

  “Didn’t Robin Williams live back in here?” I watched the huge houses roll buy, larger and larger as we got closer to the ocean. “Wait, your city house?”

  “I keep a residence here because it’s closer to work, but I also have an estate in Napa Valley, as well as a of couple properties abroad.”

  “Of course you do,” I said under my breath as we pulled into the garage of a mansion with a crystal-clear view of the limitless horizon beyond.

  We got out of the car as the garage door closed. Shelves lined the sides of the space with labeled boxes and containers. It was the most organized garage I’d ever seen. Not a single thing looked out of place. While there was a toolbox, there were no stray tools littering any work tables.

  “This is…not normal.” I walked around to the other side of the car, toward the door leading into the house, trying to find something out of place. “Does anyone use the garage, because…this is weird.”

  He didn’t answer. Apparently he didn’t see my point of view.

  With his hand on the small of my back, we walked through a door into a parlor decked out in earth colors, fine furniture, and oil paintings. He directed me through a hallway and into a living room with perfectly staged chairs, couches, and tables. A large entertainment center stood in the corner, and I noticed wireless surround sound speakers strategically placed around the room.

  “Big.” I didn’t really know what else to say.

  His grin had me blinking up at him as he led me from the room. “I’m never usually home this early—would you like to take a dip in the pool, or watch TV, or…”

  “You’re about to ask what normal people do with their free time, aren’t you?” I asked with a laugh, leaning into his warmth.

  “I can order food, if you want. What would you like for dinner?”

  “Oh.” I bit my lip. “I don’t know—what delivers out here?”

  His brow furrowed as he looked down at me. “Did you want takeout?”

  “Maybe I’m hearing things. Didn’t you just ask if you should order dinner…?”

  Hunter led me through the room to a hallway on the other side. I tried to glimpse the art as we passed, only to suddenly stop in a large kitchen where a portly woman in a white apron was writing something as she leaned over the central island. She glanced up at our entrance. Her eyes widened. “Oh, Mr. Carlisle—you’re home early. Is everything okay?”

  “Good evening, Mrs. Foster. Yes, everything is fine. What did you have planned for tonight?”

  “Well, Miss Englewood is having company tonight, so she’s ordered appetizers. For you, I’d planned a pot roast.”

  My focus stuttered. It sounded like Blaire lived with Hunter, though I could’ve sworn that I’d always heard she led an entirely separate life…

  Hunter looked down at me. “Do you like roast?”

  “Homemade food I don’t have to make? Yes! Roast, sandwiches—whatever. I’m in.”

  “Miss Jonston and I will take our meal in the dining room—or do you know where Blaire has planned her get-together?” He sounded like he was talking about a roommate. Which implied she did, in fact, live with him.

  Mrs. Foster’s smile at my roast and sandwiches comment dwindled. A disapproving look came into her eyes. “She’ll probably be in the dining room at some point. I believe she has planned…” The older woman pursed her lips. “A sex party. It will be her, another gal, and a host of men, I believe.”

  My mouth dropped open in disbelief. I thought I had roommate troubles…

  Hunter’s jaw clenched and his arm tightened around my waist. “I see. We’ll stay in my room, then.”

  He steered me from the kitchen and we returned the way we had come until we were at the front of the house. A wide staircase led up to the second floor.

  “So…Blaire lives here, huh?” I asked in a small voice.

  “Part of the contract. She moved in the day after I signed. I rarely see her.”

  I nodded as though it was perfectly normal to treat one’s fiancée with no more regard than a roommate, and then bring girls home when said fiancée was in the same house. I then put her from my mind. He was just newly resigning himself to wanting me back in his life. I didn’t want to rock the boat so soon. If they rarely saw each other, she wouldn’t be a problem for me.

  We walked to the back of the house. Hunter let me into a massive room with a fireplace, a bathroom in the far corner, and a glass door leading out to a deck. Another large TV hung on the wall opposite the king-sized bed.

  “Sure you have enough space?” I asked, glancing over the immaculate room.

  “I spend most of my time here when I’m not working. All I really need is a bed.”

  “Uh huh.” I looked at the four-poster monstrosity that would never fit in my own room.

  “Would you like something to drink?” He crossed to a globe in the corner and pulled back the dome. Like in the movies, various kinds of alcohol waited in their crystal decanters. Luckily, beside the brown liquids he obviously drank, based on the levels in the containers, he also had an unopened bottle of wine. “I can have something brought up, too, if this won’t work? A beer, maybe…”

  “Nope, wine is fine.” I sat on the edge of the bed, taking it all in. I was in Hunter Carlisle’s house! I’d gone from reluctant admin, to sex buddy, to intimate partner, to on the outs, to seriously in, all in a little over a month. It had been a wild ride so far.

  “So…Blaire’s into orgies, huh?” I wiggled out of my shoes.

  “Yes. Among other things. She speaks about class and status while performing some…interesting sexual acts.” Hunter handed me the glass of wine before sitting next to me on the bed and looking at the blank TV.

  “And you are…planning to marry her?” I said hesitantly.

  “At first I was, but…” He took a sip of his drink. “Even without…changing circumstances, I have a hard time associating myself with someone who invades my home with strange fetishes. Having an orgy is one of her tamer occupations. Imagine if a business associate found out.”

  “So why is she still around? You know, if you aren’t happy…” I was trying to be really blasé about this whole thing, but the thought of him marrying
someone else, even if it didn’t mean anything, was squeezing my heart in uncomfortable ways.

  “We entered into a contract. It might be easier to marry her and then get the wedding annulled than call it off. I need to have my lawyer look at it.”

  “You and your contracts.” I took a sip of my wine as my mind played over the “changing circumstances” comment.

  “Yes.” His eyes dipped to my lips. “Did you want to take a dip in the hot tub before dinner?”

  “Normally I’d just say yes, but you have people in this house, and I don’t have a suit. Or a solid-colored bra and panties.”

  Hunter stood and put his drink down on a dresser. He walked toward the bathroom, disappearing around the corner, before coming back with two robes. He laid them on the bed. “No one will bother us.”

  A flurry of butterflies assaulted my stomach as Hunter took my glass. He returned to pull me up to standing. His fingers worked over my buttons quickly, opening my sweater before discarding it. He pulled my tank top over my head and paused at my see-through, lacy black bra. His palms slid down my chest and over the swell of my breasts. With both of us breathing faster, he skipped down to my jeans, ripping open the button and pushing down the zipper in quick movements. He bent down in front of me as he worked them to the floor. I stepped out, only to have my leg directed to a wider stance. He hooked a finger into my panties and pulled them to the side.

  I moaned, my head falling back, as a wet tongue probed my lips before circling the top of my slit. He sucked me in, making my knees go week.

  “Every time I see you I want you,” he said, rubbing eager fingers along my wetness. A finger worked into me as his thumb circled my clit lazily. His mouth took over for his thumb again.

  “Or maybe we could just hang out in here until dinner,” I said as my eyes fluttered closed and my body wound tighter.

  He took one last, long suck before backing off and pulling my panties down to my ankles. Cold air brushed my aching wetness. My bra fell away a moment later.

  “We’ll have all night in bed, Livy. Let’s spend the evening elsewhere. I’m sorry we have to be confined—I should’ve known what I was likely to come home to. That’s something I’ll need to change.”