by Ramona Gray
She flushed bright red as he retreated. Jane swung her legs over and sat on the side of the bed for a moment. Why had he come back? It didn’t make any sense.
Probably wanted to fire you in person.
Her stomach clenched and then gurgled and she pressed her hand against it.
He’s not going to fire me, she thought desperately.
Don’t be naïve. You spent most of Thursday morning sleeping in his office and today you fainted and he had to take you to the hospital. Your ass is so fired, girl.
Well, crap. She was getting fired. She grabbed her clothes and dressed quickly. She wouldn’t cry, she told herself fiercely. No matter what, she wouldn’t cry in front of him and embarrass herself further.
Chapter 7
Luke parked in front of Jane’s apartment building. He started to unbuckle his seatbelt and she gave him a startled look.
“You don’t have to walk me to my apartment.”
“Like hell I don’t,” he said.
“Mr. Dawson, I - ”
“Luke,” he reminded her, “and stop arguing with me. I’m walking you to your apartment.”
He ignored her sigh and climbed out of the car. He took her arm and she smiled tentatively at him. “I don’t feel dizzy anymore.”
He didn’t reply. He was a little ashamed to realize he had taken her arm because he wanted to touch her rather than to keep her upright if she fainted again.
There was no one in the lobby this time and he followed her up the stairs to her apartment. She unlocked her door and smiled again at him. “Thank you so much for your help today. I really appreciate it and I’m sorry I was so much trouble. Good night, Luke.”
“Invite me in, Jane,” he said.
“I – I’m sorry?” She stuttered.
“Invite me in please.”
“Mr. Dawson,” she said with a sigh, “if you’re going to fire me, just say so all right? I know what I did today was terrible and I understand why you’re firing me but I’d rather not drag it out.”
“I’m not firing you,” he said. “But I am going to come in and make sure you eat something.”
She twisted a lock of her hair nervously. “I’ll eat dinner. I promise.”
“I know you will,” he said, “because I’m going to cook it for you.”
Before she could protest, he stepped around her and pushed open the door. He stepped inside the hallway and groped blindly for the light switch. He found it and flicked it up, cursing when nothing happened.
“Your power is out.”
“It happens sometimes.” She sounded nervous.
Luke, what are you doing? Of course she’s nervous. She was almost raped as a teenager – do you really think she’s okay with you coming into her apartment uninvited?
Fuck! He was a goddamn idiot. He really should leave before he made things worse but his need to make sure that she ate, as well as his weird desire to spend time with her, kept him from leaving.
“Jane, I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” He said. “I promise. I just want to make sure that you have some dinner.”
She flicked on the flashlight on her phone and stared in surprise at him. “I know you won’t hurt me, Mr. Daw – Luke.”
“Why is it so cold in here?” He asked as she removed her boots. He followed her down the hallway to the kitchen.
“Uh, my heat isn’t working very well. Mr. Ranson hasn’t fixed it yet,” she said. She chewed on her bottom lip. He was starting to recognize it as a sign of her anxiety and he studied her in the dim light.
“Is that right?”
“Yes,” she replied. She lit the candle on the table. “Well, with the electricity out I guess you won’t really be able to cook me dinner so…”
“I’m resourceful,” he said. “Go and change and I’ll start dinner.”
He turned on the flashlight on his own phone and walked toward the fridge. “Go on, Jane.”
He opened the fridge and held up his phone. It was empty and he muttered under his breath before moving to the cupboards. He opened the door of the nearest cupboard and shone the flashlight into it. It was empty as well and he opened two more. They were just as empty and he frowned at her. “Where’s your food?”
She bit at her lip again and he sighed and opened the last cupboard as she said, “Luke, it’s not - ”
“Jesus Christ!” He jumped back and slammed the cupboard door shut before spinning around to face her. “There is a very large fucking rat in your cupboard, Jane.”
A look of fear crossed her face and she took a few steps back. He started toward her as she backed up again.
“Your cupboards and fridge are empty – unless you count the cat-sized rat – and you have no power and no heat. What the hell is going on?”
“I told you,” she whispered, “sometimes the power goes out.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he said.
She pressed her lips together and he took her arm. “Tell me the truth.”
“Fine!” She spat at him. She yanked her arm out of his grip. “They cut off my heat and my electricity yesterday and I can’t afford food until payday. Okay?”
He stared dumbfounded at her. “Payday isn’t until the end of next week.”
“I’m aware of that,” she said bitterly. “Can you please go? I’m very tired and I want to go to bed.”
“I pay you a good wage,” he said. “You need to learn how to manage your money better.”
“Manage my money better?” She snapped at him. “Excuse me, Mr. Millionaire, but not all of us have money falling out of our butts like you do! I have responsibilities that you wouldn’t even begin to understand so don’t you dare lecture me about how I spend my money. Besides, I’d have electricity and heat and goddamn food if someone hadn’t made snide comments about my wardrobe. I bought your damn Dawson clothing instead of paying my bills and buying groceries so that I wouldn’t get fired. Now you have the nerve to come in here and tell me I’m not spending my money wisely? How dare you! Get out of my apartment, Luke Dawson. Right now!”
He stared at her, so taken aback by her sudden outburst of anger that he was momentarily speechless.
“Leave!” She snapped at him. She shoved at him but it didn’t move him an inch. She made a low grunt of anger and hammered on his chest with her small fists. “Leave right now! Do you hear me? Leave!”
“Jane,” he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll leave.”
“I’m not upset! I’m angry and hungry and tired and I want to go to bed!” She burst into tears and he jerked in surprise when she leaned her head against his chest and sobbed. He put his arms around her as she buried her face in his jacket and flung her arms around his waist. She clung to him and cried brokenly. He stroked her back and murmured words of comfort until her sobbing had slowed to the occasional sniffle.
“Jane, you can’t stay here,” he said. “It’s too cold and you have no food.”
“I have no place else to go,” she said.
“Pack an overnight bag and let’s go,” he said.
“Go where?” She sniffed.
He touched her soft hair before stepping away. “Pack a bag, please. You’re not staying here tonight.”
She sighed but nodded and left the kitchen.
* * *
“Whose house is this?” She asked as he pulled into his driveway.
He shut the car off and grabbed her bag from the backseat. “Mine.”
Her eyes widened. “I can’t stay at your place, Mr. Dawson!”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t!” She said. “It isn’t proper and if people at the office found out…”
She trailed off and he gave her an impatient look as he opened his door and cold wind blew into the car. “No one’s going to find out. Besides, it’s just for tonight. In the morning, we’ll figure out something more permanent.”
She continued to hesitate and he frowned at her. “Don’t make me carry you into the house.”
That got her moving and she followed him up the steps to the front door. His home was large and she studied the art hanging on the walls in the foyer. He took her jacket and hung it in the closet as she slipped out of her boots. Still carrying her bag, he walked toward the kitchen and flipped on the lights.
“Oh my goodness,” she breathed. “This kitchen is amazing.”
“Thanks,” he said. He loved to cook and when he’d started renovations on the house, he’d spared no expense in the kitchen. He rummaged through the freezer section of his fridge as Jane ran her hand over the island top.
“Is this marble?” She asked.
“Yes. Sit down,” he said as he popped something into the microwave. “I’ll make you dinner.”
“Oh, just a sandwich is fine,” Jane said hurriedly.
“I don’t have any peanut butter,” he replied.
She flushed and he pointed to one of the stools at the island. “Have a seat, please.”
“Let me at least help you,” she said.
He shook his head. “No, you need your rest. Besides, I’m cooking dinner for myself and it’s as easy to cook for two people as it is for one.”
That seemed to appease her a little and she climbed onto the stool. Remembering what the doctor had said about her being dehydrated, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and a bottle of beer. He opened the water bottle and set it on the island in front of her.
She drank some water as he took a large swallow of beer before putting a pot of water to boil on the stove. He grabbed another pot and began to make the tomato sauce for the pasta. While the sauce cooked, he took the meatballs from the microwave and set them on the counter. He heard the soft growl of Jane’s stomach behind him and without speaking, he pulled a bag of fresh, raw veggies from the fridge and arranged them on a plate before adding a dollop of dip in the middle of it.
He set the veggies and dip on the island in front of her. “Eat up.”
“Thank you.” She reached eagerly for a carrot as he turned back to the stove. He stirred the sauce, tasting it and adding a bit more oregano before adding the meatballs. As they heated, he dumped the spaghetti into the boiling water. He took another swig of beer and turned toward Jane.
“Jane, are you…”
He trailed off, staring in surprise at the empty veggie plate. Jane was licking dip from her finger and she gave him a look of shame that made his stomach tighten.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That was rude of me to eat all the veggies.”
“It’s fine,” he said. “Would you like more?”
“No, that’s good,” she said. “Um, dinner smells delicious.”
“Thank you. It’s pasta with my famous meatballs.”
“Famous?” She said with a small smile.
“Well, not world famous you understand, but family famous,” he replied.
She laughed. “You like to cook, huh?”
“Love it, actually. When I was younger, I almost went to culinary school.”
“Why didn’t you?” She asked as he set the island with plates and cutlery.
“Amy wanted to start a clothing line but had no interest in the business side of it. I saw her potential and wanted to help her achieve her dream so I went into business instead.”
“That was very selfless of you,” she said.
He shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable with the way she was looking at him. “Not that selfless. I’ve made a lot of money from Amy’s dream.”
“She really is very talented.”
“Yes, she is,” he replied. “I’m sorry about commenting on your clothes the way I did.”
She shrugged and stared at the plate in front of her. “It’s fine. My clothes are pretty awful and I should be dressing better for my job.”
There was awkward silence as he finished making the pasta. He scooped some onto both their plates, ladled the sauce and meatballs over it and sat across from her. She inhaled deeply before giving him a tentative smile. “It smells delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
They ate in silence. He had piled Jane’s plate high with spaghetti but she only ate a little of it before pushing it away and giving him an apologetic look.
“It’s very good. I’m just full and my stomach…”
She trailed off but he didn’t need her to finish the sentence. He should have considered the fact that she probably hadn’t eaten a real meal in who knew how long. Pasta wasn’t exactly a great meal to give someone who was starving.
“It’s fine.” He started to put the leftovers away and waved her off when she jumped up to help. “No, sit and relax.”
She sat quietly as he loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counters. He turned around just in time to see Jane yawning. It was only eight but she looked exhausted.
“Ready for bed?” He asked.
She blushed as he said, “Uh, I have a guest room for you to sleep in.”
“Right, of course,” she said.
“Okay, well, uh, follow me.”
He grabbed her bag and she followed him out of the kitchen. “This is the living room,” he pointed to the doorway to their right and waited as Jane peeked her head inside. He stopped at the next door. “My office.” She checked it out as well and he pointed out the guest bathroom and the formal dining room before they went upstairs. His bedroom door was open and he paused. “This is my room.”
He expected her to only glance into it like she had the others and his damn cock actually stirred when she stepped right into his room. Jesus, he was in trouble if just having Jane standing in his room made him horny.
He followed her in reluctantly and folded his arms across his chest as she studied the room.
“It’s very nice,” she said. “I like the fireplace.”
“Thank you.”
When Jane’s gaze fell on his unmade bed, he suddenly wished fervently that he had made it. It was way too easy to imagine her crawling between the rumpled sheets, her body naked and ready for him.
His cock started to harden and he cursed under his breath. “Come with me and I’ll show you the guest room.”
“Yes, Mr. Dawson,” she replied.
His earlier dream came roaring back to him and he turned around abruptly. There was no way he could hide the bulge in his pants after that. Fuck! Was she trying to kill him?
“I told you to call me Luke,” he said more gruffly than he intended.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice.
He was beyond tempted to turn around and pick up from where they left off with that kiss yesterday. He clenched his hands into fists. Forgetting that she was his PA, she was also exhausted and probably scared. He was an asshole.
“Mr. Daw – I mean, Luke, did I do something wrong?” She asked.
“No,” he said, “of course not.”
He left his bedroom, hoping like hell she followed him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard her soft footsteps. He shoved open the door and stepped aside. There was no way in hell he was going into the bedroom with her. He didn’t trust himself not to do something incredibly inappropriate.
She slipped by him and studied the room. “It’s lovely,” she said.
“That door leads to the bathroom,” he said. “If you need anything in the night, just…”
He trailed off. What exactly would she need in the night? The only thing he wanted to give her was a slow fucking and that was the last damn thing on her mind. There was no way she felt the tension between them and even if she did, she would chalk it up to him being a jackass again.
“Okay, um, thank you again, Luke. I’ll be out of your hair in the morning, I promise,” Jane said.
“Good night, Jane.”
“Good night.”
He shut the door before he could do something really stupid like beg her to join him in his bed. His cock still hard and lust pulsing in his belly, he stalked down the hallway to his own bedroom. He stood in the master bathroom and contemplated ha
ving a cold shower before throwing his clothes in the hamper and brushing his teeth. He was climbing into bed when he heard the faint but unmistakeable sound of the guest bathroom shower. He groaned and flopped onto his back to stare blankly at the ceiling.
Jane was in the shower. She was in the shower and she would be very naked and very wet. Maybe she was running soap over her body at this very moment. Maybe she was sliding that soft hand of hers between her thighs and…
Fuck! He needed to stop this. He moved restlessly in the bed as forbidden images of a naked Jane flickered through his head. Maybe he should knock on the door and ask if her she needed help. He could wash her back and that small but delectable ass of hers. He threw back the covers and gripped his erect cock. He rubbed it roughly as he pictured Jane leaning back against him while the hot water flowed over both their bodies. He would cup her breasts and tease her nipples until she was begging him for more. When she was breathless and needy he would slide his hand to her pussy and caress her swollen clit until she cried his name and came all over his hand. He would lift her, brace her against the wall and make her take every inch of his cock until he was completely consumed by her hot, tight wetness. He would take her fully and leave no doubt in her mind that he was claiming her as his and his alone.
His hips arched and he came all over his hand and his stomach. He threw his arm over his mouth to muffle his loud groan as his orgasm swept through him. When the pleasure faded, shame took its place and he jumped up and hurried to the bathroom. He cleaned himself up fast, irrationally worried that Jane would come charging into the room and demand to know why he had masturbated to the sound of her in the shower. He threw the cloth into the hamper and climbed back into bed. Jesus, he was a pervert. A much more relaxed pervert but still a fucking pervert. With a loud sigh, he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.
* * *
The guest bathroom connected to her bedroom had a large walk-in shower. Jane hesitated only briefly before brushing her teeth, undressing and starting the shower. She was tired but also restless and she hoped that the hot water would help to relax her. She washed her hair and rinsed it before beginning to wash her body.