“Yeah. How’s the baby?” I ask, trying to stall, but also really wondering. She had a baby a couple months ago, but she was with her grandparents on Saturday, so I didn’t see her.
“She’s adorable as ever.”
“Why did you come back? You could be at staying home.”
“I love my job, and they need me here. Only a descendent of one of the founding five women can run this front desk.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of pressure.”
“Not if you love the job, and I really do. Besides, I can see little Maggie whenever I want downstairs, and even keep her up here with me when I want.”
I feel like an ass, because I’m grilling her on being a working mother, and it’s really not my place—or my business. “Cool. Um, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t. I understand we grew up different ways. Your culture is largely different than mine when it comes to the roles of women.”
“Yeah, it is. I should understand better though, since I’ve lived here more than half my life.”
“You realized your mistake, and corrected it. That’s a good start.”
“I am trying,” I assure her. “Which is why I’m here to see my sister if she’s available.”
“Am I going to like what you have to say?” Nev asks, appearing from the hallway.
I rub the back of my neck. “Maybe?”
“Come on back,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Nev,” I tell her once I’m seated in her office.
“For?”
“All of it. My behavior over the last several years, my attitude, how I’ve treated you. Everything.”
“I’ve missed you,” she admits, looking away from me. “We used to be so close, but then you decided money, and a bunch of assholes, were more important.”
“Never more important.”
She turns to look at me, and I see the unshed tears in her eyes. “You missed my birthday, because you said you needed to study, but asked for tickets to Dylan’s game the next night.”
Fuck. “Yeah. Okay. I don’t know why I did it.”
“Yes, you do. You were mad at me for not inviting my sperm donor.”
“Our father, Nev. He’s our father.”
“He pretended he was dead, while hatching some insane plan to kidnap me, all while thinking I’d go along with it. He’s still as dead to me as when I thought he really was dead.”
“You forgave Dylan for his part in that.”
“He was being blackmailed, and manipulated.”
“He still did it. He lied to you, and if he hadn’t fallen for you, he would’ve given you to our father.”
“But, he did fall for me, and that’s the difference. He put love first. He put me first.”
“Father was traumatized, and troubled.”
“And Matt wasn’t? He gave up Reina because of something he thought he’d done! How can you look at them together, and not hate the man who biologically created us, simply for keeping them apart?”
“They’re good now. It’s all good.”
“Matt doesn’t speak to him, and neither do I. I believe in honor, and loyalty. That man believes in himself. I will always choose Matt, and Dylan, over him.”
“And I will always choose blood over everything.”
“I am blood, Sully, and I have never once been chosen by you.”
Her words cut me deeper than any knife could. She’s right. I have never chosen her. I chose my father—and myself—but I have never chosen her.
“Nev.”
“I’m not asking you to choose me over him, but I am asking you to choose me equally. I deserve that, at least.”
“You do. You deserve so much, and I am so sorry.”
I get up, and move to her side of the desk, pulling her into my arms. I knew I’d fucked up these last few years, but this right here shows me it’s even worse than I thought. When my father came back, all I could think about was having him back, no matter what. I treated my sister badly, when I should’ve understood how hurt, scared, and angry she was by what he tried to do to her. Now that my head’s out of my ass, I’m going to be a better brother to her, because she’s been through a lot, and I love her too much to add to that any longer.
“We need to go pray,” she reminds me, after a few minutes.
“I’m never missing another one of your birthdays. I promise, khwāhar.”
“Ana bahebak, Sully.”
“Ana bahebak, Neveah.”
I do love her. So much. I’m going to prove it to her, and to myself as well.
Beckham
Beverly insisted on us getting lunch after I finished with HR. I didn’t complain, because I’m hungry, and as I stand inside the C&C cafeteria, I feel like I’ve died and gone to Heaven. I already felt like that after seeing my pay, but this place is beyond anything I could ever dream of.
“How do you even decide every day?”
“Would you believe me if I told you it gets boring after a few months, never mind several years?”
“Not one bit.”
“Good, because it would be a lie. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this place, but that might be because I don’t get up here often. When I do, I choose something different.”
“Sounds like a plan. The nachos are calling my name today.”
“It’s a nice day outside if you want to meet out there.”
“Sure.”
I grab my food, along with an orange cream shake, before making my way outside. I spot Bev on the large, enclosed patio, but it’s the group of people to the left who command my attention. At least fifty men and women, including Sully and Neveah, are praying. They are all on rugs, reciting the same words, in what I’m guessing is Arabic. It’s beautiful, and I just can’t take my eyes off of them.
I don’t know how long I stand there, but I watch until they’re done, before rushing to my table. All I need is for Sully to think I was specifically watching him. His ego’s too big as it is.
“It’s pretty special, isn’t it?” Bev asks, when I sit down.
“Yes. It’s every day?”
“A few times a day, yes, depending on when people are working.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that, either.”
“You can join them. They are always welcoming to those who want to join, helping them with their prayers.”
“I’d feel like I was intruding.”
“I’ve always felt the same way,” she admits.
“Hey, Bev, I got all of my paperwork done,” Sully says, coming to stand next to my chair.
He hasn’t noticed me yet, giving me a chance to drink him in. He’s tall—definitely over six feet—with a body made of lean muscle, even his clothes can’t disguise. His jaw has a touch of stubble, his nose is perfectly proportionate, his amber eyes are still as sexy as ever, and his hair is a little long on top, practically begging for me to run my hands through it.
I have no idea what they’re saying to each other, because I’m too busy pretending I’m not practically panting in lust next to Sully. Why do assholes sometimes look so damn good? His attitude should make him less attractive, but as I inhale his musky cologne, mixed with a little bit of sweat, I’m feeling hot. Really hot, and wet.
“Beckham? That’s your name, right?” he asks, snapping me out of my fog.
“Huh? Oh yes. That’s me.”
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he says, then shakes his head. “I mean, I was hoping to see you again, because I owe you an apology. I owe you more than that, but it’s a start, right?”
I do not find him attractive. He’s an ass. That lopsided smile is not sexy. It’s not. Oh, but it so is. Damn me. I am so damned.
He’s still waiting for an answer, so I give it to him. “I work here now.”
“That’s good. Real good. Matt said he was going to offer you a job.” He looks relieved, and I think maybe he is sorry about getting me fired.
“Yeah, it is. Matt hi
red me to be his Fourth Assistant. I’m told it’s going to be crazy, but at least I’ll have an intern to help me out.”
His looks sheepish, and I’m not sure why, until Bev winks at me. “Sully’s one of your interns, Becks.”
Wait, what? If he’s my intern, then I’m kind of his boss. Not exactly his boss, but kind of.
“You going to be nice to me, Becks?”
And, there it is. The cocky smile, promising sex and debauchery. Sorry, but I want this job too much for any of that. Even if it has been so long that my vibrator batteries have to be replaced. Again. For the fifth time in six months.
No. No. No. Job before sex with hot man. Brain to body: he got us fired. Body to brain: so, let’s fuck with him, while we fuck him. Nope. I’ll give a “yes” to the first part, but a “no” to the second. Job before cock riding, every time.
“It’s Beckham to you, because we’re not friends. And no, I’m not going to be nice to you, Sully. Why would I?”
The smile taking over his face should scare me, but it doesn’t. My blood is pumping hard through my veins right now, and it has nothing at all to do with fear. Unless you count the fear of not being able to resist the man before me. Yeah, I’m completely terrified of that.
“Game on, Beautiful. Game fucking on.”
Chapter 3
Sully
I’m going to see Beckham every day. That’s what I focus on, and not the fact she’s kind of going to be my boss. I honestly could care less about that, because I’m getting what I deserve. Matt hired her because I screwed her over by having her fired, and I deserve whatever she throws my way.
These are my thoughts, as I spend my last evening of freedom relaxing by the main pool back at the apartments. Sure, I’ll have days off, so it’s not my last time out here, but it won’t be the same. Today is literally the last carefree day I’ll have for a long time, and I’m kind of loving the idea of it. I may not be putting my business degree to use in the way I’d hoped, but this is better. I’m going to prove myself, and work my way up to where I want to be at C&C.
“And this is the main pool area,” I hear from behind me. Turning, I see Beckham with one of the Security guys.
“Hey.”
“Oh, hi,” she says, tucking some of her flowing blonde hair behind her ear.
“You two know each other? That’s perfect since you’re going to be living next door to each other.”
“We are?” she asks, her blue eyes going wide.
“Yes. The apartment you chose is next to Sully’s.”
“Good choice,” I tell her with a wink.
“I have some work to do, so do you think you could show her everything else, Sully?” he asks.
“I’m happy to show her anything she’d like to see.”
“It’s no problem,” she tells him, but I can see her smile is forced. “I don’t want to keep you from your work. Thank you for your help.”
He walks away, and she stands in front of me, looking so beautiful it almost hurts. Her blonde hair is in curls, cascading almost to her elbows. Her mouth is the stuff of legends, and her lean body is encased in the same work clothes she had on earlier, but here, they turn me on even more. I can imagine unbuttoning that shirt to find her small, pert, breasts begging for my mouth. And while her skirt goes to her calves, I imagine her legs wrapping around me, too. Then there’s her simple black heels. Who knew simple could be so sexy?
“Damn.”
I don’t realize I’ve said it out loud, until she hits me with her purse. “My eyes are up here, you pig!”
“Ow. Sorry. I’m human, and you’re looking good enough to eat several times before I’d be sated.”
She clenches her thighs together. It’s just a little, and if I wasn’t watching every bit of her body, I wouldn’t have noticed it. Oh yeah, she’s pretending she doesn’t want what I’m offering, but she does.
“I’m not one of your groupies.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“Then stop looking at me like you hope I’ll drop to my knees for a quick suck!”
“Oh, Beckham, when you drop to your knees for me, I’m afraid it will be quick, because you’re so fucking hot, I’ll blow once that sexy mouth of yours touches my cock.”
“When? There is no ‘when’.”
She says the words, but I see her blue eyes turn to sapphire, her soft cheeks going pink, and her throat working hard as she swallows. Not to mention, she unconsciously licks her lips. I know she didn’t mean to do it, because she automatically covers her mouth, but I saw it. Oh yeah, she wants her mouth on me, but I want mine on her too.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be feasting first, just like I mentioned before. I can’t wait to taste that pussy.”
“Forget the tour! I’m just going to go back to my apartment, and um, get unpacked.”
“Make sure to unpack your vibe, Beautiful, and think of me when you’re pumping it in, and out.”
She practically runs from me, blushing even more, and once she’s gone, the smile slips from my face. I riled her up, but she did the same to me without even having to talk about it. My dick is so hard, it’s going to break off if I don’t give it some relief. Thankfully, there’s an enclosed shower nearby.
I lock myself in, close the roof, and start stroking myself. All it takes is the memory of Beckham licking her lips to have my dick leaking, and hurting even more. Fuck, how can it hurt even more? Oh yeah, because I haven’t been fucking lately, and I only know of one woman I want to fuck right now. The one who might be using the vibrator I now know for sure she has.
Okay, and now I’m coming, pumping my hips hard as I spurt all over the tile. Coming and coming until I think there can’t be anything left inside of me. Once I recover, I think about what just happened. How hard I came. I can’t remember coming even that hard inside a pussy before, which scares me a little, while also thrilling me.
Beckham Williams just gave me the best little death of my life, but if I don’t tread carefully with her, I’m afraid she may just kill me outright. I’ll probably deserve it once all is said and done, but first, I need to convince her to give me—and my body—a chance. I have a feeling it’s going to take the head in my skull, and not the one between my legs, to make that happen, but I’m up for the challenge. Win her over without a touch, and then fuck her with my cock until there’s no way for either of us to ever get enough. Sounds like a plan.
Beckham
Damn Sully, and his too sexy voice, body, and smell. “Oh God, Sully. Yes! God, yes!” I yell the words as I come around my battery-operated friend.
Uh-huh, I just used the vibrator he somehow knew I had, and thoughts of him, to get myself off. And it was a good one. Fuck, it was a good one.
I lie panting on my bed, trying to think of a reason I shouldn’t go ravage the man himself, when my phone beeps on the nightstand. Picking it up, I see an email from Beverly, and now I remember why I can’t go next door, and ask for an all-night mouth fuck.
I am maybe his boss. I don’t know for sure, and that’s why I can’t lust after him. I could ask if I’m his boss, but then what? Matt says no, and I start being his fuck buddy? Could I even be someone’s fuck buddy? No. Maybe. I just don’t know.
They say you don’t know about things, until you try them. My body’s telling me to try him, but I can’t. Not yet, at least. I don’t know how long is appropriate to wait before asking if I’m his boss, but I’m thinking the first day isn’t the right time. I’ll know the right time when it comes, right?
Plus, he cost me my job, almost making me homeless. Sure, I’m about to start a job that pays more, with more benefits, but does that mean I can just fall onto his cock like nothing happened? Maybe, if that’s all it is. But, again, I’m not that girl. This is all too damn confusing.
To keep my mind off the sexy Middle Eastern man of my fantasies, I walk around my apartment again. The nice Security guy showed me five different apartments, all decorated in different styles, but I fell
in love with this one immediately.
It’s girly, but modern too. It’s mostly grey, black, and white in the living spaces, but there is a dark teal wall in the dining room, and for the kitchen backsplash. My bedroom is a deep plum, with silver accents, and the bathroom is grey and cobalt blue. The floors are a grey wood, with plush rugs scattered everywhere, and I have a huge closet. As soon as I walked in the door, I knew I had to have it.
I was so excited, I didn’t even look at the appliances closely. If I’m ordering groceries, I need to know how much space I have. My closet has plenty of space, and I’ve already seen the extra towels and linens in the hall closet, but the fridge—and the cabinets—are calling to me right now.
I stagger back when I open the fridge, because it’s fully stocked with anything I could want. There are sliced meats, condiments, eggs, milk, various drinks, and more. The freezer holds meats, veggies, and even a couple of pizzas. I’m almost giddy when I open the cupboards, and find them stocked too. I’m definitely not waking up if this is all a dream.
I have food, a safe and beautiful place to stay, and a great job. There’s nothing more I need right now, and I feel like I can finally breathe again. The knock at my door startles me, but I recover, and open it, promptly feeling like I’m in a dream again.
Kace Reynolds is outside my door. The Kace Reynolds, of Storyside, my favorite boy band. He’s holding some bags like it’s no big deal, and I’m trying not to hyperventilate.
“Can we come in Beckham?”
I whip my head to the left, and see his wife, Stella. She works at the C&C Foundation, and her arms are loaded with clothes. Did I mention that she’s also a world-renowned stylist?
“Oh, yes. I’m sorry.”
“No worries. My husband tends to have that effect on women of a certain age.”
“All ages. I affect women of all ages,” he protests.
“Sure, you do.”
I just look back and forth between them, once again feeling like I have to be in a dream. There is no way this couple is in my apartment. No way at all.
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