by Ally Vance
I turn on my heel and head for my office as Jane’s laughter rings out behind me.
“Do you think I’m in love with X?”
Heather stops mid-chew and frowns. “Do you think you’re in love with X?”
Shrugging, I set my sandwich down and brush off my hands. “I don’t know. He sent me flowers today—blue roses.” I raise my brows. “Coincidence?”
“You know what I think?”
I reach for my drink and take a sip. “Hmm?”
“I think you should stop spending your weekends fucking a stranger and start dating like a normal twenty-two-year-old.”
My brows snap together. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”
Heather holds up her hands. “Hey, you asked.” She pauses to take a sip of her drink. “I think you’re in love with your fantasy. There are no risks of getting hurt at Veil.”
“It’s your fault for introducing me to that place.”
“It was only supposed to be one night to forget that asshole Victor.”
“Then why did you give your membership to me?” I argue.
“For backup.” She flicks her wrist. “I guess I didn’t expect you to carry on a relationship with a man you don’t even know. Your fantasy has become your reality, but sooner or later, you’re going to want more. The more time you spend with X, the harder it’s going to be to separate the two.”
Leaning back in my chair, I sigh. “It’s hard not to when we have such great chemistry. Clearly he likes me or he wouldn’t be sending me gifts. Right?”
Heather scoffs. “He’s a fantasy guide, Makayla. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.”
Well, if that’s not reality slapping me in the face. “Fuck, you’re right. I’m blurring the lines. Maybe I should take Spencer up on that lunch date.”
“That’s a start.”
“Your brother is hot,” I add, biting the inside of my lip to keep from laughing.
Heather narrows her eyes. “He’s your boss.”
“He’s my boss's boss,” I quip.
She purses her lips. “Are you saying you want to fuck my brother?”
“Heather!” I toss my balled-up napkin at her head.
Leaning back in her chair, she crosses her arms over her chest. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing,” she says. “Cannon is a good guy. He’s rich, single, and older. Just your type.”
“Bitch.” I laugh. “I’m not a gold digger. How old is he?”
“Thirty-seven.” She takes a sip of her soda before picking up her sandwich and taking another healthy bite.
“Has he ever been married?”
She shakes her head and covers her mouth as she talks around her food. “He had a girlfriend for like seven years, but they broke up years ago.”
“You guys don’t have the same last name. Different dads?”
“We’re not blood related. His dad married my mom. After they died, Cannon raised me and put me through college.”
“Now I totally want to fuck him.” I smirk, and she snorts. “So it was his dad and your mom in the accident?” I ask.
She nods. “Yep.”
“I know I already said it, but I’m sorry.”
“I know. Thank you.” She shoves the last bite of her sandwich in her mouth.
“Someone worked up one hell of an appetite this weekend.” I grin, and she flips me off.
Chapter Eighteen
Cannon
It's been two days since I formally introduced myself to Makayla. She’s been working for my company for five weeks, and meeting for the first time in the elevator wasn’t exactly what I’d planned. But after seeing her flirting with that kid at the coffee bar, and giving him her number, jealousy had me practically sprinting to catch the elevator.
Standing in the doorway of the break room, I watch Makayla leaning against the countertop, staring off at nothing while heating up her coffee in the microwave. Her blonde hair is pulled back and twisted into a bun at the base of her long slender neck. The neck I’ve kissed over a hundred times in the past six weeks.
My gaze drops to her pert round ass in the fitted dress. Makayla is on the taller side, probably five-eight, and even taller in those expensive red-soled pumps. I bet that fucker Victor bought them for her.
Taking a few steps inside the break room, I clear my throat, reminding myself to use my regular voice and not the soft whisper I normally use when I speak to her. I call it my bedroom voice. “Good morning, Makayla,” I say just as she’s turning away from the counter, hot mug in hand.
She startles, and coffee spills over the top of her cup and onto the floor between us, hitting both our shoes.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She turns to set her half-empty coffee mug on the counter and grabs a handful of napkins, then squats down to wipe the floor. “Oh, I got it on your shoes.”
“Makayla,” I say a little more firmly.
Her head snaps up, her blue eyes wide, and my cock instantly hardens. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve imagined Makayla on her knees, staring up at me, her eyes glazed over with lust as she’s taking me down her throat. A growl rumbles in my chest as my cock strains against my slacks, begging to slide between those big beautiful lips.
“They’re just shoes.” I offer my hand and help her from the floor.
“I’m sorry,” she says again.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I startled you.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “If you don’t have anything pressing, we could grab a cup of coffee downstairs.”
“Um, sure. Let me just tell Jane I’m going to grab coffee.”
I head over to the elevator to wait for her. She rounds the corner, and my heart nearly beats out of my chest. The elevator opens and we step inside, standing on opposite sides. I press the button for the lobby and shove my hands in the pockets of my slacks to keep from touching her. Makayla leans against the railing, one leg stretched out, the other bouncing furiously.
“Do you do that a lot?”
She raises her brows. “What?”
I nod to her bouncing knee.
“Sorry,” she says with a tight smile. “It’s a nervous habit.”
“Do I make you nervous?” I smirk.
“A little,” she says softly.
“Why?”
Her brows pinch in confusion. “Um, because you’re the boss?”
I tilt my head. “Is that all?”
She narrows her eyes. “I’m going to kill your sister.”
I bark out a laugh. “Heather didn’t say anything. I’m just messing with you, Makayla.”
She visibly relaxes as the elevator slows to a stop. The doors slide open, and I gesture for her to go first.
“How do you like it here so far?” I ask as we walk side by side to the coffee bar.
She looks over and smiles. “I love it here, Mr. Davis.”
“Call me Cannon.”
She dips her head. “Cannon.”
And once again, my cock hardens as I picture her sprawled out under me, screaming my name as I pound into her sweet little pussy. A growl rumbles in my throat.
“Cannon?” she says again, pulling me from my thoughts.
I look over at her, brows raised. “Hmm?”
She jerks her head to the barista, who’s wearing a knowing look. “She asked if you want your usual?”
“Please.” I pay for our coffees, and then we slowly make our way back to the elevators.
On the ride up to her floor, I say, “I lied.”
“About?” she hedges.
“Heather did mention something.”
Her face scrunches up in the most adorable fucking way. “Grrr.”
I chuckle. “She thinks I should ask you out.”
“She gets a boyfriend and now she’s playing matchmaker. It’s like I don’t even know her.” She shakes her head in mock disappointment.
“You’re funny.”
She jerks a shoulder. “I have my moments,” she quips before blowing into the sm
all hole of her coffee lid.
Jesus, those lips. I immediately avert my gaze to the numbers on the elevator panel and pull my shit together before returning my attention to her.
“So, would you be interested in a date?”
The corners of her mouth tip up. “I would.”
“Are you free this weekend?”
It’s only a slight flinch, and if I hadn’t been watching for it, I wouldn’t have noticed. “I have plans this weekend. I’m free Sunday though, or the weekend after?” She says the last part in hope that I won’t change my mind.
“Next weekend, I have a charity thing. If you’re interested, you could be my date.”
“Hmm.” She rolls her eyes toward the ceiling and taps her chin. “Do I want to put on a fancy dress and go on a date with an attractive man?” She drags her gaze back to me. “Yes, please.”
I chuckle again, appreciating this side of her that I don’t get to experience at Veil.
She really is funny.
Here’s to hoping reality outweighs the fantasy.
Chapter Nineteen
Makayla
A single blue rose is tucked under the wiper blade on the driver side. Annoyed, I snatch the rose and toss it on the ground before climbing behind the wheel and heading home.
My stomach has been is in knots all day. It started with the incident in the break room. The authoritative tone in Cannon’s voice when I was cleaning up the coffee I’d spilled, the lust blazing in his dark eyes when I looked up at him, and the crackle of familiar energy between us when he helped me from the floor. He smelled so good, all masculine and woodsy.
In the elevator, on the way down to the coffee bar, I’d been nervous. Mostly because he was my boss, but also because I felt insanely attracted to him. Out of curiosity, I watched the barista make his coffee—black with a splash of cream. We fell into an easy conversation, and on the elevator ride back up, it was like we knew each other.
When I got back to my office and settled behind my desk, it hit me like a punch to the gut.
It wasn’t an instant attraction. It was a connection. One we’d been building for the past five weeks. The lust in his eyes was because he already knew what I looked like naked. The authoritative tone in his voice—much softer in the bedroom—isn’t one I’d easily forget. How could I forget the voice of the man who whispers dirty things in my ear while he’s buried deep inside me? I didn’t pick up on it the first time we met, but only because I was too distracted by his overwhelming presence in such a small space. And his woodsy scent is something I’ve committed to memory.
Cannon Davis is X. I’m sure of it.
My head is spinning and my heart is racing by the time I walk into my apartment. I go straight to my bedroom and dump my purse on the bed, then head for the bathroom. While the tub is filling, I drop a lavender bath bomb into the hot water, then head to my closet to undress.
My phone chirps inside my purse with a text notification. I quickly grab it and race into the bathroom to shut off the water. Once I settle into the bath, I open the message from Heather.
Cannon told me he asked you out.
I reply, He did. We have a date next weekend.
I was relieved that Heather had a lunch date with Jesse today, because my head and heart were a mess, and I needed time to process how I felt about everything.
After a long soak in the tub, I go to the kitchen to whip myself up something for dinner, except I have absolutely no appetite. I settle on a strawberry yogurt before heading to bed.
It’s still light out as I fall into bed and stare at the ceiling fan above me, trying to make sense of all this. There are too many coincidences. Like, how does X know where I live and work if we don’t share personal information? He sent me that dress the first night I was scheduled at Veil, and I was too excited to catch it. Heather never said a word, either. Because she already knew.
My thoughts drift back to the graduation, when Heather approached me and gave me her number. Cannon was there, but where?
When Victor dumped me, it was me who’d called Heather and asked her to meet for drinks, but who paid our bill that night? Was it Cannon? Was he close by listening to our conversation?
It was Heather who suggested Veil and took me there. Was she even a member, or was Cannon behind the whole thing? Is Cannon really a fantasy guide, or is he the anonymous owner? It would explain why Heather was so eager to give me her membership. Because she didn’t have one. Cannon was paying my way.
Or was it Desiree?
Is she a part of this?
Does Heather even like me, or is she pretending to be my friend for Cannon’s sake?
The only disconnect in this whole fucked-up situation is Victor’s perfect timing when he ended our relationship.
Is he involved?
How long does Cannon plan to drag this out?
Is it up to me to end this?
Before I know it, the sun is up and I’m even more angry, hurt, and confused than I was yesterday. I have so many questions, and the only person who can give me answers is Cannon, aka X.
Chapter Twenty
Cannon
Makayla is lying naked on her back in the middle of the bed, arms at her sides, knees bent, giving me the perfect view of her pussy. A black silk scarf is tied around her eyes, and her long blonde hair is draped over her slender shoulders.
Once I’ve removed and hung up my clothes, I move over to the side of bed.
“Have you been a good girl this week?”
“Yes,” she says breathily.
Her skin is flushed, her chest heaving as her fingers grip the sheets.
“Something’s different about you tonight.”
She draws in a breath through her nose. “How can you tell?”
“It’s your body language. You’re practically vibrating with so much energy.”
Her top teeth sink into her plump bottom lip. “Something happened this week.” She grins.
“Oh?”
“My boss asked me on a date. Oh my God, X, this man, ugh. He’s so perfect.” She winces. “Crap. Can I talk about this stuff with you?”
How is it this girl can make me jealous of myself?
“Makayla, it’s your fantasy. If you want to talk about boys while I paint your fingernails, then that’s what we’ll do.”
She snorts. “Let’s not get crazy,” she teases, and I picture her rolling those beautiful eyes.
“Tell me about your boss.”
“Well, after six weeks of working for his company, I finally met him on the elevator Monday morning. The way he looked at me, I swear I almost melted into a puddle at his feet. Then Wednesday, he came into the break room to talk to me. He startled me, and I almost spilled coffee on him. Anyway, long story short, he asked me for coffee, and then he asked me on a date.”
She squeezes her thighs together as she continues. “Every time he’s near me, my body hums, craving his touch. I’ve been fantasizing about him, X.”
I wrap my hand around my hard cock and squeeze to relieve the pulsing ache. “What do you fantasize about?”
“Everything. His mouth. His hands. His cock. I imagine myself on top with him buried deep inside me, filling me, possessing me to the point that it hurts so good.”
My jaw clenches as I crawl onto the bed and settle between her thighs. The tip of my cock brushes her entrance, and she lets out a little moan. “Do you want me to be him tonight?”
“Yes.”
I roll us so my back is to the mattress and she’s straddling my hips. “Tonight, I’m your boss, Makayla.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Makayla
I gently drag my nails down X’s naked chest, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. His skin is hot, his cock hard beneath me. Rocking my hips, I stroke him with my center, wanting to slide down his body and take him in my mouth, but the throbbing ache to have him inside me is overwhelming.
Rising to my knees, I plant one hand on his to steady myself as I re
ach between us and position him at my opening. Sucking in a sharp breath through my nose, I slowly sink down on X—Cannon—pulling a pleasured moan from him.
A thin sheen of sweat forms at the base of my neck. With both hands planted on his chest, I arch my back, taking him deeper with every roll of my hips. I feel one hand sliding up my thigh before grabbing onto my hip, and I gasp when his thumb circles my clit. The need to come tugs at my lower belly as my inner muscles clench and a white-hot surge of energy shoots through my core and limbs.
“Kiss me, Cannon,” I cry out as my body tightens and my toes curl. Holy fuck.
“Fuck, Makayla.” His body shifts under me, and then we’re skin to skin. His mouth is on mine, his fingers digging into my ass cheeks, anchoring me in place, and then his long guttural groan vibrates against my lips as he spills inside me.
With one hand, I reach for the blindfold and shove it up to my forehead. My blue eyes meet his hooded, dark brown ones. It takes a minute for the lust-filled fog to clear and reality to set in. Eyes wide, he inhales sharply through his nose and tears his lips from mine.
I came here tonight with every intention of confronting Cannon and demanding answers. What I wasn’t expecting is a surge of emotions to come flooding to the forefront. A tear rolls down my cheek.
A look of remorse flashes in his eyes. “Ma—”
“Don’t,” I warn.
Dragging in a shuddered breath, I climb off him and roll off the bed. On shaky legs, I move to the bench at the end of the bed, snatch up my clothes, and dress quickly. Slipping my feet into my heels, I make my way toward the door.
“Makayla,” Cannon calls, and I pause with my hand on the knob. “Let me explain.”
I look over my shoulder to see him sitting on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know what kind of sick game you and Heather are into, but I don’t want to play anymore.”
I feel absolutely numb as I park my Jeep at the curb in front of my apartment. Moving on autopilot, I climb out of my car and make my way to the gate. I’m so caught up in my thoughts, I don’t notice the dark figure leaning against the wall.