by Nella Tyler
"So, are you going to call him?"
I smiled at her and nodded. "I'll give him a call tonight. Thanks, Samantha. I'm really glad that we had this talk. You always manage to help me put things into perspective."
Samantha smiled. "You know I'm always in your corner, Molly."
Chapter 5
Samantha and I hung around the Arboretum for another hour or so, just enjoying the scenery and each other's company. I did feel a little better, even hopeful. Regardless of Luke's decision, I had learned a lot about myself over the past couple of days. I had learned more about myself and my own reactions to difficulties. I couldn't expect Luke to behave any differently, could I?
My father's intrusiveness and his resulting ultimatum had knocked Luke off his game as much as it had knocked me for a loop. My initial desire for him to play the knight in shining armor to defend my honor was out of line.
By the time I got back to my condo, I was feeling a little nervous again. Then again, I wasn't one to avoid things, so I decided that I would text Luke, see if he was open for discussion. I sat on my couch, fingering my phone for several minutes, and then brought up his contact information. I sent him a text.
Want to talk?
He texted back almost immediately.
Can you come over now?
I thought about that for a minute. Should I? Or should I wait until tomorrow? But then I wasn't even sure if I had a job tomorrow. I texted back.
I can, only if I can come back to work tomorrow. LOL
I had added that last bit just to make sure my point came across. My point being that yes we needed to talk, but regardless of the decision, I wanted to keep my job. If he wanted nothing more to do with me on a personal level, it would be a little awkward, but I was sure that we could get past it. Then again, I had no idea what he was thinking, so it was all rather up in the air, wasn't it?
Great. I can't wait to see you.
I read the text and my stomach did a flip-flop. My nether regions started tingling and my nipples hardened. I shook my head and forced my thoughts away from his gorgeous body and the hot sex, and told myself that we were just going to talk. Yet despite my near automatic sexual reaction to his words, I had to be honest. I wasn't quite sure if I felt the same way. I think one of my greatest uncertainties was whether Luke really wanted a personal relationship with me and not just a sexual one. Could he be confusing the two? Was there a difference as far as he was concerned? Could we even be together for any amount of time without ending up in the sack?
Sure, being with Luke was exciting and the sex was great, but I wanted to assure myself that there was more to his desire to continue our relationship than just sex. After all, he could sleep with anybody he chose. I wasn't just a warm body and I wasn't going to settle for that. If Luke wanted to continue our relationship, he also had to put some emotional effort into it. I didn't expect a commitment from him, although that would be nice. The bottom line was that I wasn't going to settle for being a booty call. If that's all it was to Luke and that's all that we had in common, then I would need to be strong and turn my back and walk away.
Even if Luke was open to maintaining our growing and personal relationship, was it something I wanted to pursue? My father's involvement added a whole new dynamic to the situation. The fact that my relationship with Luke was none of his business was beside the point. I didn't want anything to come between my relationship with my parents. Not just because of the money. Not because of the money at all, actually. Still, my father had to realize that my life was my own. Yes, he was watching out for me and my best interests, but who was he to judge what was right for me?
This was something else that I needed to discuss with Luke. Either way, my father was now involved in our relationship – whether we wanted him to be or not. How we handled it was another thing entirely. I knew it could involve risk, not only personally, but financially. Perhaps after I talked with Luke, I would have a talk with my dad. Maybe a face-to-face with him could settle the entire situation. Then again, knowing my dad, trying to talk to him might be like trying to talk to a brick wall.
With a sigh, I heaved myself up off of the sofa and stepped in the bedroom to change. While there was certainly nothing wrong with what I was wearing right now, I wanted to take a quick shower and mentally prepare myself for meeting with Luke. I had no idea how tonight would end, but I had to steel myself, prepare myself, for a variety of results.
As the way I saw it, tonight could end in one of three ways. We would end up sleeping together, which got me tingling all over again, and which also pretty much make a statement that I was defying my father. Or, Luke would break off the personal relationship with me, but want to keep me on as his maid. That would be awkward, and I wasn't sure if it would be beneficial to either one of us. Or, Luke could fire me as his maid and back away from any relationship.
I decided that I would just have to wait and see. Maybe, somehow, we could find a compromise or a solution to our problem. By the time I had showered, changed, and headed to my car, I was just as confused as I had been last night. My stomach was full of butterflies, but I resolved that no matter what happened this evening, I would walk away with my chin held high.
*
About an hour later, I arrived at the Benning Estate. Before I even closed my car door, Luke had opened the front door and walked down the stone steps toward me. He appeared to be happy to see me, or at least, that’s how I read his smile, and to be honest, my heart did a little thumpity-thump when I saw him, too. There was no denying that there was a sexual attraction between us; that was for sure. Still, for now, I tried to rule my brain instead of my body, but it was going to be difficult. He clasped my hand as we walked up the stairs and into the house.
"Have you eaten anything yet?"
I shook my head.
"The chef has left for the day, and I had told him not to worry about fixing dinner. I’ll order something and have it delivered. Does that sound okay to you?"
I glanced up at him and smiled. "That's fine. What do you feel like?
"Pizza?"
I laughed. Leave it to Luke. "Pizza is just fine, but no mushrooms and no anchovies!"
"How about pepperoni, sausage, Canadian bacon, and some pineapple?"
I was surprised. That's always what I got on my pizzas. Coincidence? "Yes, that's perfect," I replied. I decided not to question anything too deeply at the moment. I had enough on my mind as it was.
He led the way into the den, or entertainment room as I called it – the one that had comfortable furniture, the television, and the stereo system. Using his cell phone, he called for pizza delivery and while we waited, he told me to go ahead and sit down and make myself comfortable.
"I'll be right back," he said.
I watched him leave the room, wondering what he was up to. Then I heard him rummaging around in the kitchen. When he returned several moments later, he appeared with two wine glasses half filled with red wine. I wasn't sure if I should refuse, but supposed that half a glass certainly wouldn't hurt while we waited for pizza. I reached for the proffered glass and murmured my thanks. I sipped the wine, which I knew enough to recognize as a full-bodied Merlot.
We engaged in idle and very superficial chitchat while we waited for the pizza. I was kind of glad because I didn't really want to get into serious topics right away, anyway. He told me about a couple of funny incidents that had happened when he was younger, and I shared a little bit as well, always straying far from the topic of my father in any of my stories. By the time I finished off the last sip of Merlot, we were both laughing and feeling more comfortable with each other.
The doorbell rang and he excused himself to go accept and pay for the pizza. Once again he disappeared into the kitchen, but returned several moments later with two plates and two sets of silverware balanced on top of the pizza box. He placed the pizza box on the glass coffee table in front of the sofa and then placed one of the plates in front of me, the other in front of him. He lifted his
eyebrows as he gestured to the silverware.
"I hope you don't mind if I eat the pizza with my hands?"
I shook my head. "Not at all. I eat pizza with my fingers, too."
Before he sat down, he picked up the empty wine glasses and disappeared back into the kitchen, returning several moments later with another glass of wine for each of us. This time the glasses were more than half full. I raised my eyebrow at him.
"Don't worry, Molly, this is all you get, but it really will go well with the pizza…unless you'd rather have a soda or water?"
Again I shook my head. "No, this is fine." I watched as he carefully placed two slices of pizza on my plate and three on his. I only waited long enough for the crust to cool down enough to grasp it in my fingers and then took a bite. The crust was light, but not too crisp. The tomato sauce was nicely flavored and there must have been a mixture of cheeses because it tasted absolutely wonderful. I was surprised. It was the best pizza I had tasted in quite some time. I complimented him on his choice.
"A friend of mine recommended the place," he nodded, taking a bite that demolished at least half of his slice of pizza. He chewed thoughtfully for several moments, swallowed, and then grinned. "He specializes in Chicago style pizza, but I actually prefer a thinner crust."
"I do to," I agreed, taking another small bite.
By the time I had finished my first piece of pizza and he had finished two, I was beginning to feel even more relaxed. Of course, the wine didn't hurt, either. As he picked up his third piece of pizza, he turned to me, his expression serious.
"I'm glad you decided to come by, Molly," he began. "First, I want to apologize again for my actions. I keep saying the wrong thing, or at least, the words that I intend to say don't come out right."
I said nothing, but allowed him to continue.
"I was wrong about what I said earlier. It was wrong of me to try to think of the situation in strictly a business manner." He shook his head. "I was just taken aback and needed some time to process. Does that make sense to you?"
I nodded. "I learned the hard way a long time ago to allow myself to process things. Yes, I'm a creature of emotion and I often react to surprises and unexpected situations with a knee-jerk reflex, but it never helps, does it?"
He shook his head and took another bite of his pizza, chewing as his eyebrows lowered in thought. "I've done a lot of thinking, Molly, and I realized that our situation is unique, and it does involve a variety of complications. I want you to know that I'm placing the ball in your court."
I glanced at him in surprise. "Luke, I understand the position you're in. I can't even begin to tell you how upset I am with my father-"
"Have you talked to him?"
I shook my head. "No. I'm still trying to make sense of it. I understand how you're feeling, but I don't think, at least as far as my father is concerned, that it’s any of his business what I do. Of course, you have to consider your business. I don't know what kind of business you're involved in with my dad, but-"
"I decided that it didn't much matter," he shrugged, taking another bite of pizza. "Oh, don't get me wrong – I like money just as much as everybody else. But I also understand that your father's ultimatum not only put me in this situation, but put you in an awkward position, as well. I just want you to know that it's your call." He was quiet for several moments, chewing. He swallowed and then continued. "After all, this is your father we’re talking about. You've had a good relationship with him, haven't you?"
I took another small bite of pizza and shrugged. "Yes," I said, chewing slowly. "I've always been close to my parents, and while my father can be a little overbearing, he's never been quite so…so…"
"Intrusive?"
I swallowed, smiled, and nodded. "Yes. That's the word. Intrusive."
"Look, Molly," he said, brushing off his fingers and wiping them on one of the napkins provided by the pizza guy. "I don't want to put added pressure on you. I mean, I care for you, and it's obvious to me that your dad does also or he wouldn't have given me such an ultimatum."
I frowned. "But why? Why an ultimatum?" I stared at Luke for several moments. "Is there something about you that I need to know about?" He looked at me in surprise for several seconds, and then straightened and shook his head.
"I don't think so," he said, tossing his balled up napkin onto his plate. Then he shrugged. "But you know fathers." He fiddled with the silverware for several moments before continuing. "I'm not going to get involved with…or nor do I intend to get caught between your relationship with your father. That strictly out of bounds for me.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. He was already involved, like it or not.
“I’ve had enough family drama to last me a lifetime, thank you very much,” he continued. “But I want you to know that I don't want you to have to decide between me and your father. Not in the least. I want you to tell me exactly what you want."
All I had left of my slice of pizza was the crust, and I placed it gently on my plate, brushed off my fingers, and then wiped them with my own napkin. I was finished. I had suddenly lost my appetite. What did I want? I wasn't sure I even knew anymore.
"Tell you what, Molly. You don't have to decide right this minute, but as far as I see it, here are your options.” He paused, took a breath and then spoke again. “We stay together and you continue working for me or we stay together and you don't work for me."
Those were my choices?
"Or, you continue to work for me and we keep our distance from each other. Or, last option, I gave you a nice severance and you can be done with me completely."
What to say? I was completely flabbergasted. Was he serious? Had he really offered the option of me not working for him anymore, but still seeing each other? What did that mean? My heart began to race. I looked up at him and smiled.
Chapter 6
I knew which option I wanted to choose, and with that knowledge burgeoned a spark of renewed passion for him. He was really sweet, and I could tell he was serious. He looked at me in earnest, patiently waiting for me to make my decision. No pressure. In fact, he looked almost casual, as if he knew what decision I was going to make. Finally, I saw the grin that began to pull at his lips.
I decided that since the options were out there, I would take full advantage. Why not see where this goes? I wanted to find out. I also knew that I would need to talk to my father – eventually – about the situation, but for now, I wanted Luke. I wanted to explore this relationship. I had no idea how long it would last, but all I had to lose was my heart, right?
Yes, I had been backed into a corner from both my father and from Luke, but now it appeared to me, although I could still be wrong, Luke didn't really care about the business relationship with my father. After all, if he had, would he have suggested that our relationship continue? Then I wondered what exactly it was that my father objected to. My working as a maid? My so-called affair with Luke? Or both? I decided then and there that I didn't really care, either, at least not for this moment in time. In fact, it was time at my father realized that I could make my own decisions. I would make mistakes, yes, but I would deal with some without “running to Daddy” to fix them.
I began to feel more in control, not only of my own decisions, but my life. I did know what I really wanted. I wanted to take chances – not stupid chances, but chances. How did anyone learn, grow, or mature if they didn't take chances? Sure, this relationship, or whatever it was, between Luke and I might fizzle out in a few weeks, but then again, it might not. If I turned and walked away now, I would never know.
So, knowing that I was making a decision that might affect me for a long time, I decided to go for it. I leaned forward toward him and he did the same. The moment our lips touched, the spark inside me erupted into a flame. It started low in my belly and then spread languorously through my limbs. My lips touched his and all my concerns dissipated. I reveled in the sensations that his lips elicited within me. He seemed hungry for me, and I was hungr
y for him, as well.
He tasted of pepperoni, tomato sauce, wine, and a hint of cheese. He opened his lips lightly and my tongue dove right in, no hesitation whatsoever. He made a startled noise in his throat, but at the same time, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. My breasts were squished against his chest as I wrapped my arms around him. I scooted closer to him so that our thighs touched. Every place our skin touched, including our lips, felt like I was on fire, my blood thrumming with excitement.
The pizza was forgotten. As it grew colder, I grew hotter. The sensations in my groin began to burn in desire and a throbbing began, as if in anticipation. My nipples hardened and tingled, aching for his touch. Without shifting my position, I lowered my left hand toward his crotch. His right hand dipped underneath my T-shirt and threaded its way upward along my rib cage, leaving in its wake a trail of electric heat. Gently, he shoved my bra above my breasts and then cupped one in his palm, as if testing its weight. His thumb brushed across the tip of my nipple.
My hand squeezed his penis, growing erect in a matter of seconds. It was obvious to me that we were both hot for each other and that our passion could be ignited with a mere kiss. It was exciting, titillating, and invigorating. I felt a sexual power that I had never experienced before. I was making him feel like this. Me. As my hand began to stroke and rub his shaft, his fingers began to gently twist and tweak at my nipple. In response it hardened, growing even more sensitive to his touch.
In a matter of seconds, I was lying on my back on the couch, my T-shirt and bra shoved up under my neck. One hand continued to play with one breast while the other breast ached for his touch. He obliged, but not with his fingers. Pulling his mouth away from mine, he lowered his head. When his warm, wet lips touched my aching nipple, I groaned out loud. His tongue circled, nibbled, and suckled until I could hardly stand it. The fire building in my groin grew hotter and hotter. I felt wetness in my panties and of their own volition, my hips thrust upward.