by Penny Wylder
So much for telling myself not to be jealous. Fuck that other girl, I think, staring at him wide-eyed for a second. He’s just the perfect amount of sleep-tousled, his hair a wavy mess around his forehead, dressed in sweatpants that sag just far enough down his hips that I can follow his happy trail a little too well – someone does not wear boxers to bed. And his T-shirt is tight as hell, hugging him closely enough that I can make out every line and cut of his muscular body.
I want to be that damn shirt.
“Good morning,” he says, his voice somehow deeper, sexier than I remembered.
I swallow hard. He’s still staring, blatantly letting his eyes roam over me. I clear my throat, searching for something to break the silence. Is he mad I borrowed his girlfriend’s shirt?
“I, uh, I found this in the spare room,” I finally stammer. My voice sounds overloud and awkward in the huge kitchen. “I hope it’s okay with your girlfriend that I borrowed them.”
“They aren’t my girlfriend’s,” he replies flatly.
Well. That’s not exactly helpful. Does that mean he has a girlfriend but these aren’t hers, or…? I shake myself internally. Stop trying to hit on your boss! “Oh. Well, I’ll wash them and bring them back, whoever’s they are…”
“They’re yours now,” he says, then he strides across the kitchen toward the coffee maker, which has just started to bubble faintly.
I step in front of him to block his path. “I’ll get it.”
He nearly walks straight into me, and for a second, I stare up at him, nose nearly touching his chest. He holds my gaze, searching. I swear I can feel my pulse beating in my fingertips, my toes, and every inch of my body. He can probably hear it at this rate, the way my heart is thumping.
“Thank you, Manila,” he says, and his breath ghosts across my cheeks, mint-fresh. Someone brushed his teeth before he came in here. Would he normally do that or…?
Here I go overthinking this all again. But I can’t help it, with him standing so close I can feel the heat of his body.
“No problem,” I manage to reply, before I whirl back to the bacon. Crap. It’s about to burn. I grab the handle, flipping it onto a plate. But I didn’t think ahead – I forgot it’s not like my pan at home with the heat-proof handle. I cry out and drop the hot pan to the stove with a clatter, shaking my hand.
“Shit,” I curse, backing away from the stove. Ouch.
Before I can react, Cassius grabs my shoulders and practically picks me up, whirling me around to the sink. He turns on the water, takes my hand and holds it under the tap. His skin is hot on mine, the water freezing, and he’s still got his other arm around my shoulders, holding me in place. But we move so fast that the sink splashes us both, flecks of water scattering across our T-shirts.
Fucking hell. I can see through his shirt now, at stomach height, his abs on full display. I swear my whole body clenches in anticipation – especially my pussy. I’m getting wet just standing close to him, the conflicting sensations of the freezing cold water and his hot skin driving me wild.
“Th-thanks,” I sputter.
“You have to be more careful.” He gazes down at me, his face a mask of concern. “How does it feel?”
I flex my fingers and wince. “Not great, but I’ve had worse. It’ll be fine.”
We’re face-to-face, barely an inch apart. If I lean toward him just a few inches, we’ll be touching, his strong, muscular chest pressed against my body… He’s staring at me, too, fixed and focused, like he’s thinking the same thing.
Is he?
I watch his throat contract as he swallows – hard, and I inhale faintly. He smells amazing, like fresh clothes from the dryer and mint and a deeper, masculine scent underneath that’s all him. I want to kiss him, grab him, let him take me right here… He could push me up against the sink, pin me in place and take whatever he wants. It’s hard to breathe, and there’s a weight between my legs, like my clit has swollen in size with desire.
“Manila…” He releases my wrist, and suddenly I ache a whole lot more, though not from the injury. Damn. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Cassius,” I say, not sure where I’m going with this – there’s clearly something here, tension we both feel, but what am I supposed to say? “I—I don’t…”
Luckily I don’t have to think anymore.
Without warning, he wraps his arms around me, lifts me off the ground as his mouth collides with mine. I fold my arms around his neck and kiss him back, as hard as I can. His lips part, his tongue tangling with mine. My chest digs into his, soft against hard, and I lift one leg to wrap it around his waist. The moment I do, I feel his hard, thick cock pressed against my thigh, free underneath his loose sweatpants.
I’m lost in the kiss, oblivious to everything else around us – the water, the burn on my hand, the bacon still burning on the stove. I just don’t want him to ever stop touching me. His hands slide down my back, cupping my ass, pulling me tight against him, and I grind my hips, pinning his cock between us.
His lips are soft, his mouth hard, and his stubble scrapes my cheek as he turns to kiss along my jaw, down my neck. I gasp faintly, and –
Luca starts to cry.
Shit.
Nothing else in the world could have pulled me out of the trance I’d fallen into just now, aside from that. I pull away from him, cursing under my breath, and Cassius drops me back onto my feet.
Luca’s wailing sets off Lucie, and pretty soon they’re both howling. I sprint from the room without a backwards glance or another word.
What the hell was that?
My heart is still racing when I reach the kids. I pick up Luca first, bounce him lightly as I lean over the crib to tickle Lucie’s stomach. It takes me the better part of half an hour to calm them down, which at least gives me enough time to get my racing, out-of-control heart under control.
My body feels shaky, jittery, like I just ran a dozen miles. Adrenaline, I guess. I just keep picturing Cassius’s expression, so cold and distant one moment, then warm and concerned the next. The way he took care of me when I burned myself, the way he leapt into action, makes me think he’s used to that – taking care of people. He’s got this sweet, caring side that I didn’t see before.
But I should have. I mean, he let me stay over here, let me bring the kids along, after barely knowing me. He gave me this job, when he clearly could do without me – he seems like he keeps his information well organized without an assistant.
Why is he doing all of this?
I glance down at my T-shirt, still damp from the sink spray. And who does this belong to? His last assistant? An ex-girlfriend? What’s the story with this spare room, made up for kids? Does he have a wife, babies? It would explain the caring attitude, and the way he was used to dealing with an emergency like a burned hand…
I shake my head. No way can I get involved with a married man. If he hired me because he’s looking for a side chick, he’s got another thing coming.
Luca and Lucie finally calm down enough that I can move them into their stroller and wheel them out into the kitchen – it works in place of a high chair in a pinch.
But once I reach the kitchen, I find it empty. Cassius must have gone to finish getting ready. He ate one of the omelets, I notice, and washed and put away his plate already. The bacon was ruined – I find the remnants in the trash, and the pan soaking in the sink, full of soapy water.
I still can’t figure him out.
I eat my omelet while playing with the twins, trying not to think about him. But the second I hear footsteps in the hallway, my heart leaps into my throat, and I spin around, anxious to see him again.
“Cassius, I’m sorry about –” I pause, blinking.
He’s in a suit, complete with tie, crisp and pressed. His expression is back to the one he wore when he first met me, dead serious. Not warm or caring at all. “I have a meeting,” he says. “You found everything you needed in the office yesterday, I trust?”
I blin
k and nod slowly. “Yes, everything was there…”
“Good. Then you can get back to work while I’m out.” Without another word, he’s gone.
I stare after him, frowning. That kiss, the feeling of his body against mine, is still all I can think about.
What would have happened if the babies hadn’t interrupted…?
I guess we’ll never know.
6
I work until late afternoon, when I hear the elevator open again. I’ve made good headway – refiled everything he showed me yesterday, got his calendar transferred, and even started sorting out some spare drawers I found in the office, other papers, older ones, that seem like they could use re-organization.
But when the elevator sounds, I push back from the desk, give the babies a quick pat – they’ve been so well-behaved and calm all day – and head into the hallway.
“Cassius?”
“Good afternoon.” He’s still got his formal face on, suit and all. He meets me in the hall, not quite willing to meet my eye. “How have you been getting along?”
“Fine. I finished the filing. But I need to catch the bus home in a half an hour, so –”
“No need to inconvenience yourself. I’ll have my driver take you whenever and wherever you need to go.”
I blink. “I take the bus every day, it’s not a problem. I just need to pack up the twins.”
“Public transit with children cannot be easy,” he counters.
My face flushes a little. “Well, no. But I’m used to it.”
“So why not take my driver?” he asks, seeming genuinely puzzled.
“I didn’t – I just don’t want to be an inconvenience,” I mumble.
He watches me for another long moment, studying me. Then he starts to walk away, beckoning over his shoulder for me to follow. “I have an idea.”
“What do you mean?” I frown, following him.
Ugh. One moment he’s being overly kind, the next he’s acting like I should obey his every whim. What is with him?
“Get the twins’ things,” he says, waiting beside the elevator. “I’ll explain downstairs.”
Rich guys, I decide, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. But hey, he is paying me. So I grab the kids’ diaper bag, pack up the room I stayed in last night, and then I follow him to the elevator. He hits the lowest floor, below the first. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, confused.
For his part, he’s still avoiding me. This time, though, he avoids me by staring at the kids instead. He sticks his tongue out, and Lucie giggles. Then he crosses his eyes and manages to get Luca smiling too.
If he acted like this all the time, I think I’d be doomed. It’s too sweet, the way he plays with them.
We reach the bottom floor, and he waves me out first. I push the stroller into an underground garage. There’s a few dozen cars parked here, but he passes them all, walks right toward a separate garage, partitioned off from the rest with a locked door. He opens it, and I swallow a gasp as we step inside.
There’s about ten cars in here, all sparkling clean. They range from a few vintage models – iconic cars like a Thunderbird that even I recognize, and I know nothing about cars.
But he passes those and walks straight to a brand new BMW. It looks like it hasn’t been driven at all yet; it’s cherry red, with a roll-down top, and a surprisingly roomy set of seats.
“This will probably work best,” he’s saying, tapping the hood before he strides past the car to a storage locker on the far side of the room.
“Work best for what?” I ask. Then he opens the locker, and my mouth actually does drop open.
He pulls out not just one, but two car seats – rear-facing, designed for children the twins’ age, and tucks one under each arm, carrying them back toward the car.
“Seriously,” I say, almost laughing now. “The bus seems easier at this point.”
“Once we have this set up, it won’t be any inconvenience at all,” he points out. He fastens one car seat into the back, and I give up and cross the garage to join and help him buckle in the other.
“But you’ll have to take these in and out all the time. What a pain.”
He catches my eye. “No I won’t. This car will be yours.” He pats the seats again, and my eyes must pop out of my head like a cartoon’s.
“Cassius, I cannot accept a car from you.”
“It’s a loan. As for tonight, you can drive home and fetch what you need – it should all fit in the trunk, this one has a surprisingly roomy trunk. Just come back this evening and we’ll get you settled into the spare room.”
“I can’t move in with you,” I reply instinctively.
“Why not?” He blinks, then frowns a little. The coldness from earlier is gone; he’s warm and open again, his expression concerned. “Oh, do you have a partner? My mistake –”
I’m shaking my head hard, interrupting him. “No, of course not.” I bite my tongue – I almost referenced our moment in the kitchen earlier. But he must be avoiding talking about it for a reason – he probably doesn’t want to think about it just now. So fine. I shake my head again. “Nothing like that, I just… I have an apartment, I live there already –”
“Do you like it?” he asks.
“No!” I exclaim, then laugh a little. I can’t help it. “That’s not the point, Cassius.”
“What is the point? It seems simple enough for you to stay here. I have the spare room. The twins are all right in that crib, yes? Or should I buy a second one.”
“They’re fine.” I let out a huge sigh. “It’s just… Why are you doing all this for me?”
“I want to,” he replies simply.
We stare at one another for a long moment, over the roof of the car. The tension we felt earlier in the kitchen is back again, palpable. His eyes dilate, and I’m sure my face is flushed, what with how much heat is flooding to it right now.
I swallow hard, to try and wake myself up. “Are you looking for a live-in assistant?” I finally ask. “You didn’t mention that in the ad…”
He seems to shake himself, too. “It’s the only way to make sure you can get enough work done to justify hiring you.”
He sets the keys on the hood of the car and walks out of the garage. I stare after him, my mouth wide open once more. I feel like I keep doing that around him, but I can’t help it. He confuses the shit out of me.
What now? He’s hot and cold, warm and frigid. I can’t keep track of these mood swings, much less figure out what on earth I’ve done to cause them.
Worse, he didn’t give me a chance to decline this invitation.
I can’t lie, the thought of staying with him another night, in this gorgeous, cozy apartment, with my twins close by, and a huge stocked kitchen full of food just outside, is tempting.
When you factor in the ridiculously sexy man just down the hall, sleeping in his own bed, probably naked, his muscular body twined in the sheets, his handsome face relaxed…
Yeah, okay, I really do want to stay here. Especially if it means another moment like we had in the kitchen. Or finding out what would happen if we kissed and the twins didn’t start to cry…
A shiver runs down my spine, and another pulse of desire throbs in my stomach, twining down through me until my pussy clenches with it.
Fine. He wins this round. I buckle the twins into their car seats, climb behind the wheel, and enjoy the crazy smooth drive out of the garage, toward my shitty apartment, and the old life I want badly to just leave behind.
7
I get back a few hours later—it took me a while to find all of the twins’ supplies for a few nights, since I figure if Cassius was this weird about letting me leave tonight, he’ll probably want me to stay the rest of the week. But finally, I have everything together, including some semi- appropriate professional clothes for myself. Judging by Cassius’s suit this morning, he’ll appreciate if I put in an effort and wear a skirt and a nice jacket, even if I am just commuting from his spare room to his spare office.
The whole drive back to his place, I can’t stop wondering about my new mystery boss. His changeable moods, the way he seems too happy and content to have me and the twins around one moment, and the next he seems annoyed that I haven’t done enough at work, or sometimes he seems almost angry with me.
Plus, I cannot stop thinking about our one, searing, unforgettable kiss… The feeling of his hard body against mine, his strong arms around my waist… and of course, his thick cock digging into my hip.
Okay, so it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten laid. But also, there’s an undeniable attraction between us. Every time we’re in the same room, the air feels magnetized, charged with electricity.
All day at work I kept catching myself drifting into fantasies, thinking about him barging in to finish what we started. Picking me up and laying me down across that desk, tossing all the papers to the floor as he hikes up my skirt and draws down my panties with his teeth… I shiver, feeling a growing dampness between my thighs as I think about how he’d take me. He seems like the kind of man who would make me come first, licking me wet before he fucked me, hard.
Get your head on straight, Manila, I scold myself. He’s my boss, after all, for all that he doesn’t act like it. What kind of boss wants their personal assistant to live down the hall with her twin kids, after all?
By the time I pull up in front of his complex, it’s dark out. I pull into the garage, busying myself with the twins’ car seats.
“Let me help,” someone calls.
I bump my head on the roof of the car and wince, rubbing it, as I turn around to see Cassius’s doorwoman hurrying my way.
“I saw you pull in,” she says as she reaches me, and points overhead. Of course. Security cameras. “You shouldn’t be stuck with these two adorable babies all on your own,” she’s tutting as she expertly unbuckles Luca and unfolds his stroller from the trunk. “Next time I see Mr. Anderson, I’m telling him he needs to treat his new woman better,” she adds, shaking her head.