Page 4 of Falling for Them
I touch my cheek and feel the wetness of a spent tear.“It’s nothing.I’m just…really upset about not finding the vacuum hose.”
He looks like he wants to challenge me, and his mouth even opens to speak, but then he closes it again and nods.
With a brittle smile, I ask, “Do you need something?”
“No.I thought I heard…nothing.”He shakes his head, clenches his fist.“You’ll tell me if you need help with anything.Anything at all.”
It isn’t a request, but a command, and damn if my panties don’t get even wetter.I try not to think about the fantasy I’d been enjoying a few minutes ago, of him bending me over, spanking me, fucking me.
“Yes, sir,” I whisper.“Thank you, Mr.Tyler.”
“You work here,” he growls.“You’re under my protection.”
I nod, keeping my smile firmly in place, and I hang onto the metal post of the shelving unit.If I let go, I might fling myself at the man and beg him to help me scale the pinnacle his son wouldn’t help me reach.
“Thank you again, Mr.Tyler,” I say.“I’d better get back to work.I think I can manage without the vacuum hose.”
I start toward the door on shaking legs.
Mr.Tyler doesn’t budge, but he doesn’t take up the doorframe or anything rude like that.He simply waits like a sentinel until I slip past him.
And then I’m back to dusting, vacuuming, and emptying wastebaskets and shredder bins.
My interlude with Joel is forgotten.
My brief interaction with his father?I can’t forget that at all.
Kingston
I’m going to kill my son.I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing, fucking around with a maid—an employee.HR is going to come down on him hard when they find out.
It’s not the first time, either.
And that maid…fuck.I can hardly blame my son for wanting her, because I want her, too.Her brown curls can barely be contained by the bun she wears them in while working.She has freckles scattered over her nose, which I hadn’t noticed until tonight, until the harsh fluorescent lights lit every detail for me.Her ugly dress did nothing to hide her curves, and the spark of vulnerability mixed with lust in her brown eyes when she saw me?Fucking perfection.
She called meMr.Tyler.She called mesir.
She smelled aroused, and she looked interested.It was all I could do to remain still as she walked past me to leave the closet.I was afraid if I moved, I’d grab her and kiss her first, ask consent later.And that isn’t how I do things.
Consent comes first, followed swiftly by satisfaction for all parties involved.
There might be a little pain thrown into the mix, a little domination.
But everyone ends the night satisfied.
An ugly, jealous thought intrudes on my mind: did Joel satisfy that maid?
I return to my office and switch off the overhead lights.This late in the evening, it’s nicer to just have on the desk lamp and my computer monitor.I’ll go home soon; after so many years as a CEO, I’ve been trying to learn work-life balance.It isn’t easy, but I’m working on it.
If only, when I go home to my empty house, I wasn’t so conscious of the fact it’s empty.Joel’s mother left years ago, trading up to marry a multi-billionaire as soon as Joel graduated high school.Since then, it’s only been me in the penthouse.My buddy Sebastian stops by occasionally, but mostly to drag me out for drinks so we can look for a woman to entertain together.
The routine’s getting boring, though.I’m starting to want something lasting, and I get the feeling Sebastian might feel the same, because he barely complained when I said I wanted to skip the club last night.I wonder if things will change.
The maid appears in my mind’s eye, luscious, perfect.Sinfully sweet.I shake the image away.I don’t know where I went wrong with Joel, but I’m not like him.I’m not going to take advantage of someone who works under my protection.
I try to lose myself in a pet project for a local charity, providing paid internships and occupational training to people in underserved communities.I swear out loud when I realize I’ve read the same draft of a press release four times without comprehending any of it.
It’s that maid.I can’t get her out of my head.There’s something about her, and it’s not merely that I think she can do better than my asshole son.
