Open Doors

by Ally Crew

  I undo my coat buttons and slide the shoulders off to lay it over a chair, feeling a little more naked than I already am. It doesn’t help that I’ve been feeling his gaze on me since the moment I’ve walked in, adding to the tension in the body.

  I wonder if he suspects something.

  I hope I don’t mess this up…

  “This one?” I point to a pair of louver doors, guessing it’s the storage closet.

  He nods.

  I open the doors, and pull out what resembles a long mop from the back. Suddenly, a whole load of other supplies come tumbling out of the closet and spill out on the floor.

  “Shit…” I bite the inside of my cheek. “Oops…I mean…sorry! Let me just…” I bend down to pick the mess up, and my ample cleavage is staring both of us in the face.

  I know he can see it too. As I sense the cheap lace trim slowly giving way and my boobs slipping out, I try and crouch to avoid a major wardrobe malfunction. Epic fail. With my low skirt riding right up, blasts of air from a floor vent swirl up my thighs, grazing my panties and lifting the thin fabric to my waist.

  Seriously!

  I want to find a cave in the middle of nowhere, and never show my face again.

  Wanting to avoid the discomfort from showing up on my face, I pick up the mess as quickly as I can and try putting them back in an orderly fashion. But with nerves working against me, I struggle to figure out which goes where.

  He clears his throat. “There’s a light…inside…”

  “What?” I look up, and notice his sealed lips tilt, as if he’s trying not to smile.

  A second later, he walks over to me. As I hurriedly rise to my feet, he stretches an arm over my shoulder, to pull a cord in the right corner.

  The slick profile of his face edges close to mine. He’s not just attractive, he’s distractingly hot. I quickly drop my glance, looking for something else to focus on, when the classic metallic strap around his wrist bedazzles me. The dial on the top flaunts the telltale logo of the Rolex crown.

  That watch alone would pay off five of my installments. Maybe more. But, I’m not jealous. How could I be, when that stylish accessory sits so perfectly on his handsome wrist?

  I draw a deep breath Am I actually ogling a guy’s wrist?

  I mentally roll my eyes. Being a virgin at twenty-one is obviously not working for me, if I’m down to ogling at guys’ wrists now. I need to get laid once this whole thing blows over.

  With the light on, I take stock of the products inside the closet. Most of them look like something out of a mad scientist’s lab. Thankfully, working with the duster is not as much of a challenge. Mom tried giving me a few tips and tricks on how not to keep my room like a pigsty.

  I never paid much attention to the minutia of the process though. Cleaning was always her forte and babysitting the twins was mine. Picking up the duster and a cloth, I make my hesitant way towards the living room.

  I stare at a chunky dark-wood corner table where I wouldn’t find a speck of dust even if I went looking for it with a lens. He’s watching, so I swiftly wipe it down anyway.

  From there, my attention shifts up to the painting on the wall above it. There’s a glossy silver nameplate with the name of the gallery and the artist etched on it. The watercolor painting depicts an African family sitting in their quaint straw hut. The artist hasn’t sketched any features on their faces, except a simple smile. And that says more than a hundred brushstrokes could ever portray. After all, they’re huddled together, at their home. A place where they belong. Where every corner is filled with a scent of familiarity, and every wall has witnessed to their trials, tears and triumphs. That sense of belongingness is what I’m going to be missing soon, if I don’t speak up.

  From the corner of my eye, I see he’s made himself comfortable on the leather couch, with a book in his hand. Unfortunately, whenever I try broaching the subject, anxiety wrings my insides pulling back any sane words.

  Flicking the duster, I move over to the glass display unit sitting in a nook. There are several shelves stacked with ornamental plaques and trophies. Most of them, achievement awards he’s amassed over the years. He definitely has the means to bail us out of our trouble. And enough connection with my past to want to be able to do so. But…

  What are you really doing? My shoulders drop with dejection, as my train of thoughts dissolve in a sea of panic once again.

  I don’t have the guts to introduce myself to him. I don’t have the knowhow to clean his home. Instead, I’m busy admiring the man in ungodly ways. A man who is mom’s friend. Mom’s!

  I hadn’t imagined I’d make it so far… and... I dust the bottom shelf in one flustered stroke, before flicking the duster up to shelf two. All of a sudden, my eyelids fly wide open in shock.

  Wait… no… that… the…

  One of the ceramic plates topples over. I stick my hand out to catch it, but gravity beats me to it, and it lands on the rug. I glare at the once-intact plaque that now lies in three cracked pieces. The words at the bottom of one piece reads, “Fastest growing business.”

  My heart pounds quickly. Sorry as I am, I know I have to hide my crime. I do not have the money to pay up, if he charges me for the breakage! I angle down stealthily and begin picking up the pieces. The rug has muffled its fall, and the last I saw, he was still engrossed in his book. I might just be able to get away with it.

  Then my body is dwarfed by a larger shadow. He’s standing behind me getting not only a look at my feminine pride, but probably the lack of my actual pride at this moment.

  4

  Mason

  I see shards and pieces of words “astest growing.” A semi-amused frown furrows my brows. There’s something that’s growing fast inside of me. This woman is a breath of lavender coated air. Fresh and ethereal.

  I don’t even remember having received that one. And right now, with her in my home, the rest of the award shelf no longer has my attention either.

  Especially as I watch her blink nervously, while her restless hands try to hide the cracked plates in vain. She reminds me of a scared kitten caught while attempting to sneak out, after a bout of mischief.

  “Mr. Kenmore,” She swallows hard.

  I limit the bulk of my stares to her face, but I’m aware of how heavily her chest is heaving as she battles with fear. Could you be any more perfect?

  Even without her voluptuous breasts swelling from the top, she has my cock stirring. With their titillating show now, my arousal is climbing quickly into a frenzy. Not to mention, her bountiful ass peeking out of her lacy bottom hem, toying with me every time she’s bent over to pick up something she’s dropped—which has been more than once. I’m not complaining.

  I don’t know what her original plan was, but I’m glad for however it is turning out.

  “I… I…” she finally speaks up. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Kenmore,” her words trail off slowly and her bottom lip quivers.

  Something’s wrong. Very wrong.

  My breath halts as I see her trying to fight off tears. I experience a deep twinge. It’s as if my heart is trying to reach out of my chest, wanting to hold her. But I keep it civil.

  “Don’t worry, the award meant nothing.”

  “The award cannot possibly mean nothing. You’re saying that because…” her voice cracks, “You’re too kind.”

  The mere sound of her choked-up message makes my fingers flinch, aching to grab her and reassure her that I’ll fix whatever is wrong.

  “I’m saying that because that is the truth.” I collect myself. “As an only child, I’ve spent most of my life alone. Now, with my parents gone too, I’ll tell you this—people mean far more than a bunch of awards ever can.”

  Her face instantly pales. I get the sense that she can relate to my emotions. A tad too much, perhaps.

  The next second, she darts around me, grabs her belongings and heads for the exit. But I know my apartment better than she does, and I’m at the door before she gets to it.

&nb
sp; “Mr. Kenmore? I have to leave…”

  I point at the window. “It’s pouring out there. You think you’ll make it home safe, in a thin trench-coat…and this…dress?” I let a cocky grin make its way to my lips, “And you can call me Mason, Danielle…”

  She cocks her head with a gasp. “How did you know?”

  “You’re a spitting image of Lily.”

  It takes her a few moments to let her guard down, and I see glimpses of the girl I once knew. “Is that a bad thing?” she asks.

  “Why would it be? I loved your mother.”

  Her feet slide back, like she wants to bring back the distance between us that’d only just narrowed. “You?” she hisses. “You’re him. I remember all the horrible nights of bickering and door-slamming. Everything because of the man who loved her. You broke my parents up!”

  My jaw twitches at how badly she’s misunderstood my relationship with her mother. But when I finally speak up, I ensure I sound calm. “It wasn’t like that. Lily was my best friend. She was amazing. Yes, I hated that she fell for your father first, but I never did anything to break them up. I even tried to save her.”

  She studies my expression like I’m an invader from an enemy camp. And it’s making me restless, in a bad way. But, everything else about her makes me restless, in a new way.

  As if her voluptuous beauty isn’t hard enough on me already, she flaunts a blossoming innocence in how she carries herself. A combination I’m finding near-impossible to fight. I can’t tell if it’s natural to react this way. I’ve never reacted this way to any woman before. But it’s how I’ve been feeling since that first moment. And now, as I gaze into the guarded depths of her emerald eyes, the pangs are only growing stronger.

  Nope, my wild pangs for her are not going to go away. They’re as deeply ingrained in my chest, like red is in blood. I want to care for her. Claim her. Caress her tenderly. Ravage her wildly. Keep her safe. And hold her hostage to my desires. I want to do it all at once.

  And I will do it all forever.

  5

  Dani

  He leans by the door, blocking it, with his arms crossed over his chest casually, like we’re having a friendly catch-up. This chat is anything but friendly though. We’ve just bared a few deep secrets about our pasts, and he’s asking me to place a lot of faith in him. He wants me to believe that he’s not the man who broke up my family before disappearing on mom. He expects me to trust that he would not do anything of the sort to me. I have no one else.

  Am I meant to tear down my walls and leave myself exposed to him? Why are my thoughts veering towards such life-altering questions so soon?

  Maybe it’s the effect he has on me. That should explain why my heart is racing at a head-spinning pace, like I’m about to set off on a roller coaster ride. No. I place a palm on my heart to try and shush that pounding. I’ve got to leave. Leave before I do something even more foolish than what I’ve already done.

  I clutch my coat and purse strap, and approach the door handle. “I need to go…”

  “Don’t, please…” His heavy breath brushes past my ear, and I instinctively close my eyes. “Just like your mother, I care for you. I want you to be safe. I must keep you safe.”

  Care for me? That sounds nice. Too nice.

  I imagine going back to being a twenty-one-year old again. Leading a carefree existence without the worry of bills, mortgages and two kid-brothers’ futures.

  Must keep me safe? Does he mean he’s going to keep me safe for now? For a while? Or, forever?

  Forever? My heart pauses for a moment, at the sound of that word in my head. I open my eyelids slowly, and our gazes lock. He’s read me. Both, my thoughts and my turmoil.

  “Mason,” I blink nervously and wonder if he feels it, too.

  “When you blink that way…” He whispers, “You remind me of a kitten.”

  “Kitten?” I gasp. It’s what Mom would call me endearingly. A silent shudder ruffles through my back. The gleam in his eye tells me that he knows that my body likes the sweet caress of that name.

  I lick my trembling lips. “Alright, I’ll stay. Until it stops pouring,” I add. “I’d need to let someone know first…”

  He nods and I step aside. Opening my purse, I fish out my phone. Unlocking the screen, I begin typing a text for my friend, still in disbelief at how the day’s turned out.

  Dani: I’ll need to pick up the boys a little later than I thought. Is that ok? Hope they’re good.

  The response returns in no time.

  Jack: No probs. They’re good as gold. Building a fort and I’m making popcorn before we watch Ratatouille. Take your time. How long will you be staying there, just so I know when to tell them.

  Staying here?

  Dani: Classic movie. They’ve never seen it. They’ll probably want to watch it over and over. Maybe a few hours.

  I enter my reply, looking at Mason’s backside as he walks across the room. Though I wonder if I might be staying for more than a few hours.

  Maybe forever?

  6

  Mason

  She’s staying. Of course she is. It’s not like I was going to let her leave that easily. My heart wants her. My body needs her. I’m having her. And I am making no excuses for it.

  I ask her to make herself comfortable in the living area, and she takes a seat at the very edge of the couch, clearly not at her most comfortable. Her innocence coats me and I realize how delicate this needs to be faced.

  A faint grin flits across my features. “I’ll be back,” I head for my room, before I return with one of my softer dress shirts for her to change into. As much as I really like her inventive costume, it’s not the most practical of attires and not great for having a heart-to-heart talk. “Here you go.”

  I watch the green specks in her pupils soften. My kitten.

  “Thank you,” she accepts my offer slowly, and disappears into the washroom for a bit. When she emerges wearing the dress-shirt, a quiet groan of desire rumbles my chest. I’m a man of stature, towering over others. She’s a foot shorter than me. And the edge of the shirt sits just above the top of her knees. She looks like a pixie, floating across the room in my shirt.

  Fresh blood pumps into my shaft till it nudges against my pants. No, I’m not a slave to my desires. Except, when around this one woman.

  The ringtone of my mobile buzzes, interrupting the words that were about to slip out of my mouth.

  I lean over to the table to pick it up, darting a peek at the caller id. It’s my assistant.

  I press the green caller icon. “Hello.”

  “Mr. Kenmore, I’ve called you to remind you about the benefit gala you’re meant to be attending, later tonight.”

  I cut him off gently. “Cancel all my plans for the week.”

  “Mr Kenmore? Are you okay?”

  Okay?

  I smile, gazing at the girl in my lounge. “I’ve never been better.”

  7

  Dani

  As I wrap my hands around my knees, and settle on the couch, my thoughts return to my brothers. They are my life whole now. I wonder what my friend would have to say if he finds out that I’m sitting in Mason Kenmore’s house, wearing his shirt. Hell, Jack’s told me some of his fantasies involving some of our town’s most eligible bachelors and I remember Mason’s name coming up. If he only knew..

  I notice a crinkle on the front of the opulent fabric, and iron it out. Of course, I can’t allow myself to be too swayed because he’s offered me his clothes, and his roof for a while. He is still a stranger.

  Yet, I catch myself running my fingers on the sleeve, like it’s his arm I’m caressing. We haven’t even touched and I can already smell him on my skin. And I would be lying if I said I don’t love the woody scent. Even his scent twists my cords of desire like we’re meant to be entangled forever.

  “How is your father, Dani?”

  My back straightens and my eyes trail up to him slowly, confusion coating my head. “Dad left us and mom ten
years ago? It got bad, Mason. Mom had to work three jobs to pay the mortgage. And it’s what,” I swallow hard, “It’s what exhausted her. And last month she couldn’t anymore and it took her away from us.”

  “What?!” His tone shoots up, till I can feel it bounce off the walls. A dark shadow skims over the depths of his eyes and he shakes his head. His fingers steadily curl up till his knuckles turn white, before he spins on his heels and leaves. “Excuse me…”

  I stand up, startled by the abrupt shift in his reaction. Is he mad at me? Did I say something wrong? My fingers are shaky as I tuck my hair behind my ears.

  I stay in my spot, alone, unsure of where my feet must go. Do I stay put? Do I leave?

  I can’t just leave… I still have his dress shirt on me!

  I angle to the right, and spot the sliver of his silhouette in his office. I decide to follow my instincts and go to him. I need him, but maybe he needs me, too.

  I pause as I walk into his office, which resembles a conference room rather than an office room. An entire wall is lined with shelves that skim the ceiling. And the massive cherrywood desk can seat six people around it. Six!

  I swallow to clear the lump in my throat. I know that saying his name will be a test of my will. “Mason…” And I wasn’t wrong, my body clenches, but I ignore it. “Did I…did I do something wrong?”

  8

  Mason

  Did she do something wrong?

  Her voice is like a cool caress on the anger burning in me.

  “No. I did.” I take a few seconds to temper my rage before I turn around to face her. “I gave your mother two hundred thousand dollars to pay off the mortgage. Your father must have run away with it. I’m sorry, Dani. I never knew.”