Serving Him

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Serving Him Page 13

by Cassandra Dee

But Nana wasn’t thrown by my tantrum at all.

  “That’s true,” she said slowly. “Maybe the agreement started out as an employment contract. But honey, look around you. See this apartment? See how much he loves you, making sure your family has a nice place to live? Look how much work he put in, so your brother can go to a better school. These aren’t the signs of a man who doesn’t care.”

  I shook my head, tired all of a sudden.

  “He’s a billionaire,” I said listlessly. “He has staff to do all this. It’s not like Kane painted the walls himself.”

  Nana cocked her head at me, blue eyes sharp.

  “That’s true,” she acknowledged. “But he put in the time, he put in the emotion, and that’s what counts. This man wants you to be happy, my dear girl, and it’s all around us, it’s everywhere. Open your heart and see for yourself.”

  And slowly, I did as she asked. The cream walls were beautiful, the crown molding on the walls just right, the baseboards an ornate design, perfectly in keeping with the style of the apartment. The alpha knew how much I loved design, how I wanted to go to art school at some point, to better myself, educate myself, and Kane had taken the first step for me, surrounding me with beauty, making sure that my senses were imbued on a day-to-day basis with subtle visuals, reminding me of what I wanted to become.

  And slowly, my heart began softening a bit. Before, I’d hated this apartment. Not hated it because it was a terrible place to be, but hated it because it was a constant reminder of him, of what I couldn’t have.

  But now, seeing the apartment with new eyes, I was filled with hope. Because it also reminded me of the good parts of Kane, how he’d listened to my words, how he cared, how he wanted me to be safe, comfortable and happy, urging me towards my dreams even now, speaking to me from thousands of miles away.

  And Nana was right. No man does this for you if he feels nothing. No man goes to such an extent, providing for your grandmother and little brother, people he’s never met. He’d only known of them from our conversations, how I’d opened my heart and told him about Mattie and Nana, how important they were to me, and by doing all this, he was showing me that they were important to him too.

  So I looked at my grandmother then, taking a deep breath.

  “So what do I do now?” I asked tremulously. “If he cares, what do I do now?”

  The old lady chuckled softly.

  “You tell him of course. Be brave, my girl, speaking from the heart is always your best bet.”

  I exhaled then, the air in my lungs shaky.

  “But how?” I asked plaintively. “Kane’s in Nevada.”

  And Nana shrugged, eyes twinkling.

  “Dear heart, I don’t know exactly how, but isn’t there technology these days? Aren’t there all sorts of programs you can use to call people on your computer, you see their faces on your phone? I don’t know, Becky, but I know you’ll figure it out.”

  And I took another deep breath, trying to steady my lungs. Because there were all sorts of programs, WhatsApp, Snapchat, Skype, and there had to be some way I could reach Kane. All I had to do was figure it out, problem-solve a little, and if I came upon an obstacle, I’d find a way around it. I didn’t get this far just to give up, I wasn’t that type of girl. So shoring up my courage, I nodded.

  “Thanks Nana, I’ll look for a way,” I said in a tremulous voice. “There’s definitely a way.”

  And my grandmother patted my knee.

  “I know you will baby, because that’s the brave girl I raised. Now help me with this laundry,” she said with smile. “Because I’m not sure where to put your pile of lingerie.”

  I had to laugh at that, able to breathe easy for the first time in a long while, my heart breaking open as a swell of emotion flooded me. Because the pile of purple thongs looked ludicrous on our couch, so out of place that it was funny, and my Nana has a wicked sense of humor. Besides, she was right. The situation was complicated, the way Kane and I met was insane, but there was a simple solution. I could tell him how I felt, I could confront him, and something would happen, for sure. Maybe I’d fall on my face and be embarrassed forever, praying the Earth would swallow me whole. But maybe, just maybe, the alpha might like me back. Who knows?

  Swallowing thickly, heart pumping in drumbeats, I steadied myself again. The future was unclear, but if I wanted to be whole again, if I wanted my heart to heal … I had to try and find Kane.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Kane

  I looked up at the sky, which was a clear, cloudless blue. It was a beautiful day but instead of feeling cheered and optimistic, the wide expanse was imposing, like a huge weight on my shoulders. What the fuck? What the hell was wrong with me, why was I such a Debbie Downer on a gorgeous afternoon, kids roller skating by in Central Park, the sounds of birds twittering in the air?

  But I knew why it was happening, and it all had to do with that girl. Rebecca. Becky. The woman was my maid, I’d hired her as the help, and now look what’s happened. It was insane. She was just supposed to be a two-week fling, totally in line with what the Club offers, but instead I’ve found myself thinking about the female non-stop, unable to focus, unable to eat, drink or sleep normally.

  And I cursed myself. This was so fucked up, Becky wasn’t even a woman that I’d dated, wined and dined like a normal female. She was the help for crying out loud. Sure, I admit I’d been drawn to her from the beginning, the moment I laid eyes on that curvy form, pulling strings so that she could stay at the Club. But in no, way, shape or form had I planned for this, the heaviness on my shoulders, the fact that I felt miserable and crummy, like I hadn’t showered in days, my BO probably awful.

  So I strolled faster, almost breaking into a jog, forcing myself to do another round of the lower loop in the park. I was a fucking billionaire for crying out loud, Central Park was my backyard, and I had a thousand things to be grateful for, a thousand things to appreciate. What the fuck was wrong?

  But unfortunately, the brisk pace did nothing for me. I was still a morose loser, hating myself, unable to detangle my feelings. Why? What the fuck? But inside, it was totally obvious. I loved that girl, absolutely adored the ground those small feet walked on. And the problem was me. I’m a mean motherfucker, an asshole through and through, and there’s no chance for reform. I’m forty-five years old for crying out loud, it’s not like I was gonna grow a new conscience, or suddenly sprout wings. I’m a mean mofo and it’s gonna stay that way.

  Because who does what I did to a virgin? My head started pounding as I thought back to our breakthrough session, one where I’d taken her bottom and her puss at once. It’d been so disgusting, and yet so right. I’d rotated between the two holes, pushing into her ass and then pulling out and doing it in her vagina. It was dirty, it was dangerous, it was fucked-up, and I loved every second of it. I’d come so fucking hard, my orgasm furious, balls totally drained, cock shooting like a fire hose.

  But that’s the thing. No girl should have to go through such depravity, especially not an eighteen year-old virgin. Sure, Becky was the help, but this isn’t the Dark Ages. Rebecca’s not a slave for crying out loud, her health needs to be protected, as well as her emotional well-being. And rotating between her holes wasn’t safe, there’s bacteria that can move between the two sweet spaces, give her an ugly case of UTI or even worse. Plus, the mental. I’d probably scarred the female for life, she’d have nightmares of everything I’d forced her to do, bent over with no real way to say no.

  So I cursed again, muttering under my breath like a madman. The girl had appeared fine afterwards, perky and cheerful, tits bouncing, but I didn’t trust my senses. Because Rebecca’s smart, she’s got a savvy instinct for survival, and I was the man signing her paychecks. She knew that she could make a little extra by pretending to love it, and so all those breathy moans and pants of “More, Kane, more!” were likely just survival instinct kicking into place. The girl was practically forced, for crying out loud, she was trying to support her impoveri
shed family, and would do anything for them, including letting me use her body as my personal fuckdoll.

  So inside, I was a mess. I’d done that to her. I’d forced my baby to pretend, to take it, insisting that she spread her legs and harbor my dick again and again. Oh shit, the self-loathing was so great that my vision narrowed to a pinpoint, unable to see anything but the sidewalk in front of me, the air leaving my lungs. Shit, shit, shit, I was gonna pass out. Me, a billionaire alpha, with the world as his fingertips. I was the one who was going to be unconscious in the street for no apparent reason but stress and hyperventilation.

  So I stopped for a moment, bending over, hands on my knees, head down. Breathe man, the voice inside spoke. Breathe motherfucker. And I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply through my nose before exhaling once more, trying to find the Zen. It worked a little, and when my eyes opened, I saw the tips of my loafers, as well as the tips of another pair of shoes, women’s sandals. What the hell? Who was standing so close to me? Couldn’t they tell that I was having a moment? Seriously, Manhattanites can be so rude.

  But as my eyes focused, I looked at the toes again and saw that they were perfectly formed, each nail a polished coral, shiny and sweet. And suddenly, the air really left my chest then, my breathing labored once more. Because as I lifted in my head, it was like a mirage appearing. Rebecca was here, right in front of me, standing on the sidewalk before my building.

  She smiled tremulously.

  “Hi Kane,” came that dulcet voice, reverberating in my heart.

  I almost choked. What the fuck, after the misery I was going through, the “Hi” sounded so normal. I really was fucking bonkers, even a mere “Hi” shook me to the soul, made me feel a million things at once, emotions rushing through my brain. Happiness, elation, surprise, but also misery, despair and most of all, shame. I was ashamed what I’d done to her, what I’d put her through, and no amount of apologies could make up for it.

  So I didn’t even try to apologize. Instead I played it off, like this was the most normal meeting in the world.

  “Hey Rebecca,” I grunted. “What are you doing here? What a coincidence,” I said with a lazy smile.

  The girl blushed a little, biting her lip and nodding.

  “Well, I live in New York,” she said hesitantly. “Not here, of course, this is a really nice area. I live in the Bronx,” she corrected. “I live up north, and I wanted to thank you Kane, for finding us new digs, for setting up my grandmother and brother in a really great apartment.”

  I nodded like it was no big deal.

  “Sure, I had my broker do it all,” I drawled casually. “No prob.”

  And the girl blushed again, looking down.

  “Well, thanks anyways,” she said quietly. “It really means a lot to us.”

  I stopped then, unsure what to say next. Me, billionaire alpha, was actually tongue-tied, at a loss before this beautiful girl. Because Becky was even more gorgeous than I remembered. Brown curls flowed over her back, those lips so luscious, the pout heavenly. And oh god, that body, the huge tits and round rump, I was getting hard just looking at them.

  So I forced myself to look away, staring at her face instead, willing my gaze upwards. I was going to treat Becky right, be the respectful dude every woman wants, and not the dirty motherfucker I really am.

  “So is this a coincidence?” I drawled again, eyebrow quirked. “Headed to Whole Foods or the Park?” I asked. Lots of people come to my neighborhood to enjoy Central Park, one of the entrances was nearby, perfect for walkers and joggers.

  And it would have been easy for the girl to lie, to smile like nothing was wrong and nod agreeably. But instead, she looked up and met my eyes, those caramel pools so direct and warm.

  “No,” she said slowly. “I came to find you.”

  I was non-plussed. Really, in a city of fourteen million people, the girl was able to fish me out like a needle in a haystack? That didn’t sound right. But Rebecca could sense my suspicion.

  “No one told me where you live,” she said hurriedly. “No one gave it way, not the Club, not the secretary at your company, and not the broker. I just knew you would be here.”

  I was stock still, looking at her.

  “You knew?” I asked skeptically, eyebrows quirked. “How the fuck? This is one street in all of Manhattan baby, I could live anywhere and I’m not exactly listed in 4-1-1.”

  And it was here that she took a deep breath, before meeting my eyes once more.

  “No, it’s because I know you Kane. I know you have to have the best, that you’ll only accept the best, and this building,” she said, gesturing with her hand, “Is the best in Manhattan. It’s been in all the papers as the newest development for billionaires, in fact this strip of West 57th is called Billionaires Row. So I knew you’d be here,” she said, biting her lip tentatively, blushing a little. “I knew I could find you here.”

  I sat back, stunned. Because of course Rebecca would figure it out. This woman knew me better than anyone else, the stories of ourselves we’d shared during those two weeks had been deep, had opened a part of me that I didn’t show to many people, if anyone at all. And of course, I’d told her how I’d started the Club because I couldn’t get into the traditional social clubs. So Rebecca knew that I have a side that’s insecure, and because of it, I have to have the best, I have to live in the best, and my building, One57, is the best. Shit, I was neighbors with several Russian oligarchs, a number of Saudi princes, and a couple Rockefellers. Not that I ever saw them, we have private elevators, but sometimes I’d glimpse an entourage in the lobby, or a mess of black cars outside. They were here. The elite was definitely here because this was the most prestigious building in the City. And Rebecca, using her instincts, had homed in, her street smarts and savvy serving her well.

  “So now you’ve found me,” I said with a quirked smile. “In a city of a billion people, you’ve found me. What’s going on? Everything okay with the apartment?”

  Of course, my casual voice was just a front. Inside, I was a fucking wreck, my dick semi-stiff, heart going a million miles a minute. If I could, I would have ravished her right here, in public, yanking off her clothes and burying myself in deep. But right. I was playing the part of the good guy, putting up a façade to look normal.

  Becky took another deep breath then.

  “No the apartment’s fine,” she said, meeting my eyes steadily. “Again, thank you Kane. But I wanted to know why you did it? You didn’t owe me, you paid me more than enough, the money was really generous. So why did you do it?”

  I was silent for a moment. The truth was because I love her, and couldn’t bear the thought of my baby living in a hovel, sleeping on a ratty couch with cockroaches scrabbling at night. So I’d put my guy on it and commanded him to find something nice, with a water view, something where my baby could be warm in the winter, cool in the summer, with air and light, and plenty of room.

  But all that was too much, so I shrugged like it was nothing.

  “Just figured,” I grunted vaguely. “There were vacancies.”

  Rebecca nodded slowly, twisting her purse in her hands.

  “I know,” she said gently. “There are always vacancies for a man like you, even in a city as notorious as New York. But I have another theory, do you want to hear what it is?”

  My head pounded, the silence thunderous although it was a normal day, the gray sidewalks and massive buildings looming as they always do. I didn’t reply. I couldn’t, there was a massive lump in my throat.

  But my girl is a brave one, and she went for it.

  “I think you found me an apartment,” she said slowly. “Because you care about me. I think during our two weeks together, something happened. I don’t know what it was exactly,” she said with a small half-smile, “but it was amazing and you didn’t want to let it go. You wanted me to be happy going forwards, and so you made it happen.”

  There was no air in my lungs, but I forced myself to reply.

  “Don’t
overthink things baby,” I ground out. “There are billions of apartments in the city for the billions of people who live here. Don’t overthink it,” I warned, voice rough.

  But the girl went for broke then, cocking her head at me, brown eyes so soft, so beautiful that I almost drowned.

  “There are a billion people Kane, but there’s only one me. And I think you love me,” she said in a gentle voice. “I think you love me, and you care about me, and that’s why you did it. That’s why you put yourself out there, going above and beyond what was necessary, making sure I’d be safe, comfortable and happy. I mean something to you, something special, and that’s why we’re here now,” she said, gesturing at the sidewalk.

  I could barely breathe. Hearing the words out in the open was like a flood breaking a dam, a swell of water coming from nowhere, making me shake in my shoes, my heart about to burst. Because she was right on the money. Of course I loved her, I would give her anything, I’d give her my fortune, my soul, my everything to make sure she was happy, to keep her close. But I couldn’t tell her that, it would bind her to me forever, and that was a shitty future for a young girl. So I denied it.

  “Naw baby girl,” I drawled, rolling my eyes slightly. It killed me to do this, but Becky didn’t know what was right for her. I’m a much older dude, one with a dirty mind who’d use her again and again, forcing her against her will. A future with me was something to be avoided at all costs.

  “Naw,” I tried again. “It’s just an apartment. Listen, I’m glad it made you happy and all, but this love stuff? That’s not what I do,” I said with a cocky grin. “Trust me, I’m forty-five, I know it when I see it.”

  Rebecca looked at me then, tilting her chin, so soft, sweet and innocent.

  “Do you really, Kane? Do you really know it when you see it? Then tell me this,” she said. But instead of continuing to talk, she launched herself into my arms, pressing those lips to mine, beckoning, like a siren singing a song.

  And I resisted … for about half a second. Because this was everything I ever wanted. The brunette was so soft in my arms, so giving, so warm, and she knew me so well. The woman knew exactly how to break down my barriers, to expose myself, and she’d done it again. Rebecca knew how to make me feel safe so that I could do these things, so that I could reveal myself, and suddenly, resistance was futile. Kaput. It was all over, and I was putty in her hands, everything that I owned belonged to her, every fiber of my being, everything and anything in my power.

 

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