Page 9 of The Billionaire and the Maid

“Yeah, OK,” I manage as I keep watching the mesmerizing woman. He hangs up, but I can’t keep my eyes off her. She’s using the mop as a microphone. I wonder what she’s singing. Hell, I wonder if she can sing? There’s something so familiar about her. Like I’ve known her my whole life. But that’s impossible. I probably just recognize her from cleaning my apartment. I frown. It was her in here a few days ago, wasn’t it? I squint trying to see her better from across the courtyard between my wing and that one.

She leans over to pick up something and a shapely ass points in my direction.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as my imagination dances around images of gripping that round flesh as I pound into her from behind. I feel my dick starting to come to attention as I let my brain wander through the possibilities of an encounter with her. Her lush breasts bounce as I thrust into her slick heat. Her pink lips fall open as she comes undone beneath me. Her fingers grip me as she takes me in her mouth. A blonde hair escapes her bun. Her hand comes up to brush it aside.

I want to do that. I want to push her hair away from her face. She’s naturally beautiful. Her big, blue eyes glance around the room as she sets down the mop and picks up a dust rag. I only know they are blue because I viewed them up close when I came into my apartment and saw her cleaning. The delicious way her cheeks pinkened under my gaze.

A knock on my door has me quickly adjusting myself and taking a sip of water. “Come in,” I say after a minute of composing myself.

“Are you coming to brunch tomorrow?” Mom asks. I look up to see she’s just come from the tennis club. I swear she has lived there recently.

“Brunch?” I ask, frowning as I stare at the open calendar on my desk. And there it is. Brunch with Rick and Steve Finch. They own a shoe store that buys from us.

“Oh, uh, yes. I have it on my calendar,” I state.

“Are you…bringing anyone?” Mom asks, her eyes hopeful.

I sigh. “No, I don’t plan on bringing anyone, Mom.”

She frowns. “But Dad—”

“I know. I can’t just produce a woman out of thin air, now, can I?” I reply curtly as I glare at her.

She sighs and sits down on a leather sofa. “Chase, Dad and I want the best for you. It’s only because he wants you to have it all.”

I want to laugh. Like you? A husband who cheated on you and fake friends? I have to bite my tongue literally, so I don’t say the words out loud. As much as my mom has faults, she doesn’t deserve that from me. She’s been a good mom. And I’ve been informed that my father has ceased cheating on her this past year. Jesus, my family is more complicated than an international contract negotiation.

“Mom, I…I’m going to set up some dates this week when I have time.”

She relaxes and gives me a genuine smile which is rare these days. “That’s great, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.”

I clench my jaw. Soon? Sure, it’s just like buying a car. I’m sure I’ll find the perfect wife in the next few days. I mean potential wives just fall out of the sky like raindrops, right?

Mom gets up and walks over to me, leaning down, she kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Mom,” I grumble as she leaves, closing my door behind her.

I glance back over at the dining room window, but the maid is gone. I’m left to only my imagination as I free my cock from my pants and grip it, squeezing it roughly as I stroke myself to completion with visions of a blonde lying beneath me.

* * *

It’s been an hour since I decided running on the treadmill was a better way to get over my maid infatuation. It seems to have worked. I’ve listened to two podcast episodes on the art of global market expansion. I grab a clean towel and put it around my neck as I pull a bottle of water out of the small refrigerator. I down the water and toss it in a recycle bin by the door as I walk out and slowly make my way through the house toward my apartment. It’s buzzing with activity. The staff seems to be deep cleaning every last square inch of this place or at least all the parts that guests would visit. You’d think we were having royalty over for the ball. I tilt my head as I try to recall the “who’s who” list of attendees my mom had rattled off at dinner the other night. I’m fairly certain there was no royalty on it.

My phone buzzes and I look down.

Ward: New samples arrived. (photo of samples)

I click on the photo and enlarge it. Yes! It looks even better than I thought.

Me: Perfect. Order it and start the staff on the rest of the prototype.

Ward: On it. Should be ready in a few days.

Me: Great. That must have been some favor you called in.

Ward: Guilt is the greatest way to get a favor…(winking emoji)

Me: It sounds like there’s a story there.

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