Up Close and Personal (6 page)

How does she know I do that?

“Eight, nine, ten.”

Maybe it’s the pills. Maybe it’s the situation. But something about what she’s doing strikes me as hilarious, so I join in the fun. “Fifteen, seventeen, twenty-one.”

She blows out a breath. “Stop that. Darn it. Now you’ve made me lose count.” She grips my waist even tighter. She’s got to be tired. I’m not only several inches taller than her but weigh more. “Seven.”

“I thought we were up to thirteen.”

“I’m counting down. Five. Four.”

I let her do her thing until we reach the top step. And then in fits and starts we make our way to my room where she drops me on the bed.

“Should I ring your valet?”

“You can’t. It’s his off night.”

For a beat, she doesn’t say anything, probably trying to decide whether she should abandon me to my own devices. “Okay. Well, let me help you with your shoes then.”

I can’t help but be enchanted by her concern for me. She’s trying so hard to be helpful. “They’re moccasins. I can manage them.” To prove my point, I toe them off.

“So. Ummm. Where do you keep your pajamas?”

I grin like a fool. “Don’t have any. I sleep in the nude.”

“Oh.”

Wish I could see the color of her cheeks. I bet she’s blushing. But as much as I’m enjoying this, it’s time to put an end to this interlude. She’s done enough for me. “Goodnight, Ms. Bennett.”

“Are you sure you can . . . undress by yourself? I can call Moseley to help.”

“And wake my butler from a sound sleep? I think not. I have this.” I stumble to my feet and go for my belt. Unfortunately, the darn thing’s a tricky two-prong strap. With the three pain pills in my system, I’m all thumbs.

“Here. Let me do it.” Nudging my hand back, she fiddles with it with no success.

No surprise. Even my valet has a hard time with it.

“Shoot. This is hard to do standing up. Sit down.”

“Okay.” Head swimming, I plop back on the bed.

She pulls on the strap, but the dang prongs won’t come loose. Refusing to give up, she redoubles her efforts. My cock unfortunately notices. If I thought I was hard before, it’s nothing to what I’m feeling now. The darn thing’s a log in my pants.

“Darn it.” She straddles me, I’m guessing to gain better purchase, but I’m way past caring about the damned belt. I breathe in her musk. That scent of hers is not soap or cologne. It’s her. And it’s driving me insane. She’s leaning right over the zipper, fighting the belt for all she’s worth.

And, just like a randy teenager, I’m about to come in my pants. “Caitlyn. Stop.”

“Wait. I almost have it.”

Sitting up, I curl my hand around the nape of her neck. “For the love of God. Cease what you’re doing.”

“But—” She’s breathing hard and so am I. We’re close, so close, and her breath smells so sweet. Her fragrance weaves its magic around us, enthralling me, enrapturing me. So I do what I’ve been wanting to do all night.

I kiss her.

Not just kiss, but lick, nibble, bite her soft mouth. I’m so lost in the wonder of her, I fail to notice she’s not participating until she pushes away from me.

“Mr. MacKay.” Stiff and unyielding, she’s a block of wood in my arms.

But I can’t let her go. I want a hell of a lot more of her mouth, her lips, her. Hoping she’ll give in and give me what I want, I suckle her bottom lip. “Kiss me back, Cait.”

“I c-can’t.” She’s not fighting me, but not kissing me, either.

Resting my forehead against hers, I plead. “Please.” I’m begging I know, but I don’t care. I want her to kiss me back more than my next breath.

For an eternity, she does nothing and then, ever so softly, her lips flutter against mine. A streak of pure lust shoots through me, and I clamp onto her and devour her mouth. When she trembles against me, I can’t take it any more. So I turn and slide her beneath my body.

Someone knocks on my door. “Mr. MacKay? Do you need help, Sir?” Moseley. Damn his soul.

“Oh, my God.” She wriggles away and beats feet away from me. The door crashes open and bounces against the wall.

“Ms. Bennett!” Could Moseley sound more surprised? “Is everything all right?”

“Yes.” She chokes out, probably red as a beet. “I helped Mr. MacKay to his room. He was a bit woozy from the pills.” She’s mortified to her core. And I did that to her.

“I see. I’ll take it from here then,” Moseley says.

“Yes. Thank you. Goodnight.”

That intoxicating scent of her dissipates. She’s gone.

As my butler steps into the room, the door clicks softly shut.

“Do you require help Mr. MacKay. I know it’s your valet’s night off.” He clips out his words.

I can’t blame his outrage. He saw enough to realize I was well on my way to seducing the help. A no-no in his book. Mine as well. Until tonight. Until Caitlyn. What a rutting bastard I am. Thank God he stopped me before I committed the ultimate crime. “Yes. This damn belt. I can’t get it off.”

“Allow me, Sir.” In his hands the belt comes off in a thrice. Figures.

“Anything else?”

“No. I can take it from here.” I’ll be damn if I have him witnessing my cockstand.

“May I speak frankly, Sir?”

Something tells me I’m about to be schooled by my butler. “Yes, you may.”

“Ms. Bennett is your employee.”

I bite back a curse. “Don’t you think I know that?”

“You don’t … consort with the help.”

“I wasn’t consorting with her. She was helping with the belt.” And I took full advantage of her kindness by assaulting her.

“Yes, Mr. MacKay.” He doesn’t believe me.

And he’d be right. I was doing more than consorting with Caitlynn Bennett. Given another minute I would have buried my cock balls deep in her. And that’s something that can’t happen. Time to call the escort service and have them send Minouette.

Chapter 7

______________

Caitlyn

AFTER TOSSING AND TURNING half the night, I wake to find a typed note slipped under my door. “Please meet me in my office at eight sharp. There’s something I need to discuss with you. Sterling MacKay.”

My heart thumps. He wants to discuss what happened last night. I shouldn’t have entered his room, but he was wobbly from the medication and I was afraid he’d hurt himself. And then . . . that kiss. I’d been so shocked I hadn’t reacted. I froze instead. But I wanted to. Everything in me loved what he was doing. Shivering from the memory, I rub my lip recalling how he’d licked me, nibbled me, tasted me. But that kiss will make things uncomfortable between us. So, even though it was not my fault, he’ll probably let me go.

If he does, what am I going to do? I need this job so I can pay off my mother’s medical bills. If I don’t, they’ll be hanging over my head for a long time. Oh, I won’t starve, and I’ll still have a roof over my head. The restaurant will take me back. But even with a roommate, my finances were darn limited. I won’t be able to afford a decent car or plan for the future. I’ll be too busy paying off expenses for the next ten years.

Brushing my tears away, I catch the hour. Darn it. I woke up late, and now I barely have enough time to brush my teeth and dress before dashing down the stairs. I make it to his office just as the grandfather clock in the foyer chimes the eight bells.

Handsome as ever, he’s seated behind the desk in a killer three-piece black suit, hands templed over a piece of paper. “Ms. Bennett. Good morning.” His mouth’s drawn in a tight, white line. Is he still in pain? Or is this the expression he wears when he fires someone?

“Good morning.” I sniff back my tears. Whatever he’s got to say, I’ll accept with grace and dignity, like my mother taught me.

“I want to apologize for last night.”

“Apologize?” I croak out. Those are the last words I expected to hear from his lips.

“Yes. I . . . crossed a line I shouldn’t have crossed. So I offer my most sincere regrets.”

“I . . . apology accepted?” I don’t know what else to say.

He slides a paper over to me. Probably my notice of termination. I try to read it but the words swim on the paper. I blink away the tears to find a name and address on the sheet. An attorney going by the esquire after the man’s name. Am I supposed to report to him for my paycheck? “What . . . What is this?”

“My attorney. You’ll need it to file a sexual harassment suit against me.”

I whoosh out a breath. “File a suit? Against you? Why would I do that?”

“Do I need to spell it out for you, Ms. Bennett? I forced myself on you last night.”

My lips tremble. With amusement? With relief? Who knows? “No, you didn’t. You kissed me. That’s all. No biggie.” I hitch a shoulder.

“No . . . biggie?” He sounds outraged. “I violated the trust between employer and employee.”

“You’d just taken three pain pills. Your moral code took a vacation, that’s all.”

“How can you espouse such a view? You resisted me and I refused to release you.”

“I didn’t resist. I was surprised, that’s all.”

“My kiss was repugnant to you.”

Giddy from the realization he doesn’t intend to fire me, I laugh. “Actually, I kind of liked it.”

“Kind of?” His brow scrunches as if he’s trying to divine the meaning behind my words. He shakes his head. “Look, you don’t need to fear loss of wages. I’ll pay you. For two months’ time.”

“Two months’ pay for four days’ work?”

“I owe you.” He bites out.

“No. You don’t.” It would be payment for a stolen kiss and that would make me a whore.

“Take the offer.”

We could be here all morning debating his penance for what happened last night. It’s time to put a stop to this. He’s apologized. I’ve accepted. We need to get on with things. “No. Is there anything else, Mr. MacKay? I do believe it’s time for breakfast.”

His expression lightens up. Gone is the white slash to his mouth. A dimple pops up on his cheek. “And nothing interferes with food.”

I crook a smile. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“Very well, Ms. Bennett. Lead the way.” He stands up and points to the door which I open and step through. Together we make our way to the dining room in total amity with each other. Too bad our fellowship barely lasts a day.

Next evening, as soon as he arrives from work, he steps into my office.

“My assistant emailed you the passport application. Why haven’t you returned it to him?”

“Ummm. Sorry. With everything that’s going on, I forgot. I’ll get right on it.” I click my computer to look for the email Anton, the stuffed prig, sent me.

“Ms. Bennett.”

Darn. We’re back to Ms. Bennett again.

“If you don’t obtain your passport in time, I’ll need to postpone my trip.”

Oh, God. How could I have forgotten about this? “I’m sorry. Truly.” I find the passport application and start to read the instructions. “Ummm.”

“What?”

Pained by what I’m about to say, I glance up at him. “I need my birth certificate, but it’s in storage. I’ll need to drive there tomorrow to get it.” And that’s at least a two-hour trip there and back which means some of the dinner arrangements will need to be postponed.

He waves a hand. “You can get them online.”

“Not mine. I wasn’t born in the United States.”

“You’re not an American citizen?” His voice rises.

“I am. My parents traveled to the Cayman Islands for a last fling before I was born. I came two months early. They filed a document right away to provide me with U.S. citizenship, but those documents are not available online.”

“They’re calling for snow tomorrow.”

Figures. If it weren’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any. But I don’t have anyone to blame but myself. I should have taken care of this right away. “Shouldn’t be a problem, not with the Honda CR-V.” I offer hopefully.

“It will take time away from your other tasks.”

“I’m sorry.” How many times do I have to say those words?

He blows out a harsh breath. “Fine. Complete the application, get your birth certificate. And get your picture taken.”

Wait. What? “I have to do that too?”

“Yes, Ms. Bennett. You do.” He turns and marches out of the office.

I print out the application, complete as much as I can. I’m so immersed in the process, I lose track of the time. What seems like only minutes later, my office phone rings.

“Ms. Bennett.” It’s him. Of course it’s him. “You do know dinner’s served promptly at seven.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“It’s 7:15.”

“Sorry.” I wince. “I’ll be right there.”

We conduct dinner in silence. I’m not about to say anything in case he feels like biting my head off some more.

Next day, I breakfast alone.

“Mr. MacKay left for the office, Miss,” Moseley says. “He had an early appointment.”

Thank God and the little fishes. “May I ask you a question?”