I chuckle as I wash the ingredients before pulling out a knife and a cutting board. “Is there anything here you don’t like?” She shakes her head, and I get started on our meal. I make quick work of chopping mushrooms, spinach, avocado, and parsley. Then I crack some eggs into a bowl and whisk them together with a touch of cream. Liza has gone quiet as she watches me move around the kitchen. She appears fascinated by the sight of me cooking, and I’m surprised at how right it feels to have her here with me in my kitchen. I drizzle some olive oil into a skillet and then pour in half the eggs. I then layer the ingredients onto one side and fold the top over when it’s ready. I plate the finished product and add a pinch of parsley to the top before depositing it in front of her.
“This looks amazing, Lee,” she says as if I’ve presented her with a masterpiece. I’m strangely pleased by her praise, feeling almost proud that I’ve made her happy after her earlier ordeal. Don’t think about that now, I chide myself, not wanting to ruin the moment. As it is, I find it hard to look at her and see the reminder of what someone did without demanding answers. I know instinctively that if I do, she’ll retreat, and I’ll get nowhere. She looks up at me with an almost apologetic expression. “I’m not in danger, Lee. I didn’t need to come and stay with you. I don’t want to put you out.”
Even though she has opened a door for me here, I won’t ask what I’m desperate to know. Not yet. “Well, as I said, someone hurt what I consider mine, Liza. I would not have allowed you to stay in your house tonight.” I’m not sure how to read the small smile on her face, but fuck if I don’t like it. I glance at her neck again, and any peace I felt momentarily leaves me. “Would you like some juice?” I ask instead as I turn away. I take some glasses from a nearby cabinet, then a pitcher of orange juice from the refrigerator, placing it in front of her. She splashes a small amount on the island when she pours it, and I twitch inwardly. I need to clean it up more than I need to breathe. I make a pretense out of gathering the items together for my omelet, but sweat dots my forehead before she finally grabs a napkin from a nearby holder and wipes up the spill. It’ll be sticky now. That’s not going to do it. Such a fucking mess.
She’s talking, something about the cat—who has picked this moment to begin making its presence known once again. Please, God. Don’t remove that thing now. I’m disgusted as I notice my hands shaking. What in the fuck is wrong with me?
Pull it together.
Don’t want her to see.
To know.
Somehow, I manage to finish my omelet without burning it. When it’s plated, I can no longer wait. I get some paper towels and pull a bottle of cleaner from under the cabinet. I’m careful to shield her food as I move her glass and spray a small amount where the spill was. I scrub it vigorously until I’m satisfied that no residual remains. Her voice sounds small when she says, “I’m sorry, I should have done that. I just—wasn’t thinking.”
I feel like an asshole. She’s clearly uncomfortable as she stares at her plate. I put the cleaning supplies down and move to her side. Without thinking, I pull her against me and drop a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s nothing, little bird. I guess I’ve lived alone for so long that I’m a little set in my ways.” I force myself to relax even though I want nothing more than to clean up the kitchen before I eat. But I desperately don’t want her to realize how fucked up I am inside. I give her shoulders another squeeze before taking a nearby seat and forcing myself to eat. I’m so distracted by the nearby disarray that it almost hurts to force each bite past the lump in my throat.
I pause with the fork halfway to my mouth as she gets to her feet and begins doing the very thing I’d been fighting against. She’s humming under her breath, but it sounds strained. The tension begins to leave my body as she efficiently handles the clutter that had been driving me to distraction just moments earlier. I’ve barely finished my meal when she whisks the plate away and deposits it in the dishwasher with the other items. She then begins to clean the countertops and the island, and even though I’d rather do it myself, I don’t say a word. The result is the same as my kitchen is returned to its former pristine state, and I can breathe easily once again. Of course, before I go to bed, I’ll go back over it myself—there’s no way I can’t. I won’t rest without confirming that everything is just so. “All good?” she asks softly as she comes to a stop next to my stool. It’s as if she knows. Knows me. Knows what I need and when. But how is that possible?
Once again, I find my arm encircling her, and for a few moments, we stand there savoring our connection. We haven’t been simply employer and employee for a long time, and that’s more obvious than ever now. “Thanks, sweetheart.” I nod, and before I can stop myself, I lower my head and take her lips with mine. I wonder faintly how she can taste of strawberries after just eating an omelet, but rational thought soon flees as she steps between my parted knees and her arms go around my neck. My body kicks into overdrive when my tongue slips between her plump lips and tangles with hers. I have no idea how long we stay that way. Her mouth is like the finest wine, and I’m drunk on the taste of it. My hands lower to her ass, and I fucking love the softness that fills my hands as I squeeze her firm cheeks. Unable to resist, I move my head and begin dropping gentle kisses onto her bruised neck before licking the pounding pulse I find there. “You taste amazing,” I say huskily as I raise my head to stare at her flushed face. Her eyes are glazed, and she’s panting for breath as she stares at me. I lower my hand and cup her between the legs. She shudders as I whisper in her ear, “I want to taste your wetness and hear you scream when I push inside you.”
“God, yes,” she says in a near shout. Thank God. But before I can act on it, a loud noise fills the kitchen. I jerk backward, releasing her in my haste to assess the threat. As my eyes swing around the area, they fall to the carrier against the wall. The damn cat is very nearly rocking the plastic container onto its side. I wouldn’t be surprised to see it explode out of the thing at any moment. “Rufus,” she says hoarsely. She sounds disappointed when she straightens away from me. “He’s probably hungry, and it would be a good idea to get the litter box set up before he has an accident.”
That’s all it takes to bring me to my feet. The last thing I want is the beast shitting in the kitchen. Then it hits me that I’m going to have a box of sand somewhere on the floor in my home, and the feelings of unease return. “I don’t suppose we can sit the box up on the balcony, can we? Do you think he’d jump off?” I ask it jokingly, but I’m dead serious.
She rolls her eyes at me before saying, “I’m not willing to find out. Maybe we could put it in a spare bedroom or bathroom. Trust me, it’s not a great feeling to step in cat litter in the middle of the night, and he tends to spray that stuff everywhere when he does his business.”
Holy fucking hell. This is sounding worse by the moment. Why do people have pets if this is the kind of thing you have to deal with? “Don’t they have people you can hire to take care of stuff like this?”
She doesn’t bother to answer. Instead, she walks over and kneels in front of the animal that is soon to defile my home. “My poor baby. Mama’s gonna get you out of there right this moment. Just hold on.” She continues as if she’s speaking to a child instead of a pet. It appears that both Rufus and I are mesmerized as she lifts him from the carrier and cuddles him against her chest. I’ve officially hit rock bottom. I’m jealous of a cat. I swear the thing smirks at me from her arms as he gets all the attention that I was enjoying just moments ago. The bastard cat-blocked me. Unbelievable. “Can you get the box and the litter? Then lead the way to where you want to put everything.”
I wonder idly if she’ll see the humor if I walk out into the middle of the street. After all, she did ask where I wanted him. Instead, I move toward the foyer where the bags of supplies are and then grudgingly make my way to the bathroom at the back of the penthouse. It’s the logical choice since it’s not used. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I’d allow an animal to crap in a
box that I willingly placed on my marble floors. This is just plain fucked. But apparently, the worst is yet to come. Because seconds later, the cat is deposited in my arms, and she’s bent over rummaging through the contents I’ve just placed on the floor. I hold the wiggling, hissing demon away from me. “Liza, you need to get this thing.” What are the symptoms of rabies? “It’s—there’s something clearly wrong with it,” I say in a panic as it turns its fucking head like that girl from the exorcist and hisses at me. I’m waiting with bated breath for green stuff to fly out of its mouth. When that happens, no amount of protesting on her part will keep me from tossing it outside.
She barely glances over her shoulder before returning to her task. “He doesn’t like the way you’re holding him. Put him against you and he’ll stop. How would you like for someone to shake you around like that?” I stubbornly refuse to take her advice until she adds, “Plus when he’s scared he’ll pee.”
Holy fucking hell. I pull the bastard close and glare at him as he stops howling and starts doing something that sounds like a motor running. Then I feel something wet and faintly abrasive on my hand. The thing is licking me. Running his tongue down my fingers now as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Without thinking, I drop him. Or at least I think I do. But the beast barely falls a few inches before he’s latched on to my leg and his claws are inches away from my cock. I freeze, afraid to move a muscle. “Liza,” I whisper in panic.
“What?” she grumbles without turning around. “I swear, Lee, it’s just a cat. I hate to sound like a broken record, but you’re really disappointing me with your lack of mobster badassery. How in the world did you ever intimidate anyone? All the other guy would have to do is sic their dog on you.”
I grit my teeth as the cat-from-hell digs in even harder and begins to howl. What in the fuck does it have to sound alarmed about? I’m the one in danger of losing my fucking dick here. “Goddammit to hell, Liza, can I get some help here? If you value my cock, then you’ll remove this thing while it’s still operational.”
That gets her attention. She whirls around so fast she falls against my leg. The good news is that the cat is jarred and loses its hold. The bad news is that he slides down my leg like it’s a fireman’s pole. “Oh my God.” Liza looks from me to her soon-to-be-deceased cat. “Are you okay, baby?”
I open my mouth to answer her, then realize—in amazement—that she’s talking to the cat. There are snags in my two-thousand-dollar suit, but she doesn’t appear to give two shits. My thigh is stinging, but I’m hesitant to even mention it for the fear of being called a pussy. Apparently, I’ll need to lose a limb to get any sympathy from her. I turn on my heel and leave the room, knowing it’s for the best. Time to regroup before I say something I’ll regret—or get attacked again by Cujo. I’m not going to lie. I’m disappointed when she doesn’t call me back. I’m not sure she even notices. So I go directly to the bar in the living room and pour myself a generous amount of bourbon. I wince as it burns its way down my throat. My other hand rubs absently at my still smarting thigh as I deliberate what a fucked-up evening this is. Then she’s there, standing before me. She says nothing—simply stares at me.
“I do hope the cat is all right,” I say, keeping my voice neutral. “It would be a shame if he hurt his claws while he was tearing into my flesh.”
Her eyes widen, then drop as if to inspect me for injuries. “Where?” she asks as she moves closer to me.
“It doesn’t matter.” I shrug away her concern. I know it’s childish, but it’s too little, too late for me. As far as injuries are concerned, these are nothing. I’ve had much worse in my life and not given them a thought. I don’t want or need comfort from anyone. Shit like that makes a man weak. I learned long ago that to expect anything is to beg for disappointment. Even those rare people with the best intentions will let you down or turn away when things get too tough. It’s human nature to choose the easiest route.
She puts her hand on my arm and squeezes it lightly. “I’m sorry.” She sighs. “It’s been a long day, and I’m making a mess of this.”
I feel myself softening as I study her upturned face. How dare anyone touch her? How. Fucking. Dare. They. I reach out and cradle her face in my hand. My thumb brushes over her bottom lip, and my breath hisses as her tongue darts out to lick the tip of my finger. “Liza,” I whisper. I want to warn her off. To tell her to run and hide, but I don’t. It was too late the moment she walked into my lair. I’ve wanted her for a long time, and despite any noble intentions I had, I can no longer wait. Staying away has gotten me nowhere, and it certainly hasn’t helped her either. Decision made, I swing her up into my arms, surprising a shriek from her.
For a moment, I think she’ll protest until she all but latches on to me. “I swear if you stop this time, I’ll put a hit out on you myself.” By the time we reach my bedroom, she has my tie off and my shirt halfway unbuttoned. Every bit of polish and self-control that I have is gone, and I’m just as frantic as she is. Then she’s on her feet and the scary part is that I have no recollection of putting her down. Fuck, I hope I didn’t drop her. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but the sexy black bra she’s wearing is fucking gorgeous. I run a finger over the silky material and circle the outline of a nipple clearly visible through the thin fabric. She moans low in her throat before swatting me away and pulling at her pants. Something about her eagerness is a boost to my ego. Hell, I don’t even know if that is possible. I’ve always been more than confident in my ability to turn a woman on. But this is Liza. And holy mother of God, she’s wearing a thong. Again, been there—seen plenty of those. But I wasn’t expecting it from her. I never have guessed that she likes skimpy lingerie. I feel like a kid at Christmas. The fact that she very nearly trips as she awkwardly kicks off her shoes before sliding her slacks off does nothing to distract me from the beautiful and desirable package she presents when she finally straightens.
“You’re absolutely beautiful,” I say hoarsely as I put my hand on her hip possessively. Mine—finally. We kiss. Tenderly. Slowly. I’m rock hard at the feeling of her soft body nestled close to mine. Then once again, she’s a flurry of activity as she undresses me. It’s as if she’s terrified I’ll stop. “Liza,” I whisper softly when I’m down to only my boxer briefs. “Slow down, little bird, and let me enjoy the moment.”
She stares at me with a pleading expression on her face. “You can do that the next time. I just—need you now… please?”
There’s no way I can deny her anything right now, not with her looking at me that way. I remove the remainder of our clothing before backing her against a nearby wall. I leave her briefly to grab a condom from my dresser drawer before returning. I quickly sheath myself, then lift her into my arms. Her legs automatically wrap around my waist a second before I plunge into her wet heat. “Fuck,” I hiss. I take her lips with mine as her back rests against the wall. My hands curl into her hips as I pull her down to meet each of my thrusts. “So good,” I groan against the curve of her neck as I circle my tongue against the rapidly beating pulse there.
“Lee, I love you,” she groans. I lose my rhythm for a moment and almost send us both tumbling, but quickly recover. I convince myself I heard her wrong. “Love you so much.” There is no more time to dwell on it as she begins to spasm around me. I don’t need her to tell me that she’s coming, because I can feel every contraction as she cries out. My movements increase in speed, and my jaw clenches as I explode inside her.
I rest my forehead against hers. My legs are like jelly, and I don’t have the strength to separate us yet. I start in surprise when her hand runs through my hair. Normally, this type of closeness would be far too intimate, but it’s… strangely comforting. I close my eyes and allow myself to enjoy this rare vulnerability with a woman. I brush a kiss against her temple in a gesture as foreign as it is tender. What in the fuck is happening to me? If I had any strength left in my body, I’d be in a full-on panic, but I’m too tired to fucking care. “You okay?”
I ask as I stare into her flushed face.
Her lips turn up into a contented smile as she nods. “Never been better,” she adds, then yawns very inelegantly. Never been better. Yeah, I’m feeling that too.
I chuckle before lifting her to separate our bodies. She shivers, and my cock stirs to life again. Down, boy. I shouldn’t have fucked her. But, God, I want her. Once will never be enough. But regardless of how badly I want to, twice is out of the question. Especially until I know the extent of what happened to her earlier. Someone hurt her, and I need to know who and why. I place my hand on her hip before saying, “I’m going to shower in the bathroom down the hall. Why don’t you use the one in here?”
She pushes her bottom lip out adorably, and before I can stop myself, I nip it with my teeth. “Ouch!” She laughs as she pushes my head away. “I would suggest that we conserve water by sharing, but it seems like you’re on your own, buddy.”
I shake my head, before giving her ass a light swat. “Having you wet and naked isn’t the way the save water, sweetheart. Hell, we’d probably both drown in there. So be a good girl and do as you’re told.” Her snort lets me know what she thinks of my words, but she walks in the direction of the master bath without comment. The sight of her full hips and firm ass swaying seductively almost has me following her, but I force myself to turn in the other direction. There’ll be plenty of time for that after she gives me some answers.
I started the day with a vengeance on my mind for a betrayal I didn’t know much about. Fuck, I embarrassed myself in front of my son-in-law. I played tic-tac-toe in a board meeting. Both screw-ups are because of the luscious woman heading toward my shower. Somehow, some unknown fucking way, the day has ended up off course. The minute I saw her mouth yes after I told her what I wanted to do to her on that table, I knew I was in trouble. It’s her. For the past two years, it’s been her. I’ve fucked other women, seeing her in my mind, often feeling as though I was betraying her in the process. But right now? I feel as though every moment was leading to this. To making her dinner. To kissing, being kissed, being touched. God, being inside her. Yes, I’m pissed that something other than the truth brought her across my path. And I need to know the what and the why. This will be the first of many nights that Liza will be in my bed and in my arms. There’s a surprising kind of freedom in giving in to something that you’ve long since tried to deny. I haven’t a clue as to what will happen in the light of day, but for now, we belong to each other. I only wish I could give her more.
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