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“Fucking beautiful,” I mutter, massaging her breasts. My fingers pinch her nipples as she begins to moan. Her back arches and I can feel she’s close. I’m doing all I can to let her orgasm first, but I’m fighting a losing battle.
“God,” I growl, gripping the sheet beneath her as I come hard. Her back arches. She presses her body against me as we release together, our bodies becoming one.
An hour later I can’t believe we’re still in this position. Char is curled up in my arms, breathing softly. I watch the rise and fall of her chest, my heart pounding. I haven’t done this with anyone in a long time. There is no postcoital with me anymore; that emotional side of me is gone….Or is it? Asleep, she’s so vulnerable, perfect in every way. I could lie here and watch her for hours.
—
It’s the following morning, and I’ve been sitting here since six a.m., trying to get ahead on some work. I couldn’t sleep, not with her lying next to me, but I didn’t have the heart to kick her out. And that worries me.
This woman is turning me into a mushy mess. Marina calls my name, and I look up to see her entering my office. Her expression is one of concern as she sets down a double espresso in front of me. I thank her and turn back to my computer. She clears her throat.
“What is it?” I ask, distracted.
I can’t make sense of the numbers on the screen in front of me because all I can think about is Charlotte. I never thought it possible that one woman could satisfy me in every way. I still don’t think it possible…do I?
“The other girls…” She hesitates and glances down at the floor, looking up only when I prompt her. I’m getting impatient because I don’t have all day.
“What about them?” I press.
“They’re upset about all the time you’re spending with Charlotte.”
“They’re upset?” I repeat, amused. “I’m paying them to do nothing and they’re upset?”
“You know it’s never about the money with these girls, Mr. Murphy,” she says, her voice quiet. “I can understand their concern. They feel as though pretty soon you’ll no longer need them, because you think you’ve found a woman who can be everything for you.”
“Enough.” I silence her. Her head drops as I stand up. I’m annoyed that my attention has been hijacked by such a trivial thing. “They want something to do? Summon them all to the long room in an hour,” I bark.
I’ll give them something to do.
At eleven sharp, I walk swiftly into the long room, slamming the door behind me. All the girls stand in front of me—with the exception of Charlotte—in a perfectly formed line. As I move past them, I hold their gazes, staring deep into the eyes of each girl until she breaks the contact. A rush of victory flows over me. I’m in charge. They’re paid to do what I want them to do. I’m angrier than I should be and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I’m not used to people talking back to me. I’ve had a lot of that from Charlotte the past couple of weeks, and it’s put me on edge.
I don’t adapt well to change.
“I hear you have some complaints about your lack of duties?” I don’t address anyone in particular, and none of the girls volunteers a response. “Alanna,” I bark, addressing the tall redhead to my far left. She jumps and stumbles forward.
Ah, Alanna. My spanking girl. A blush moves across her cheeks as she shifts uncomfortably on the spot. Her fingers twist together anxiously as she gathers her words.
“We feel like we never see you anymore,” she mumbles, her voice coming out like a whine. She doesn’t look me in the eye. I snort, not bothering to hide my disgust. Since when do I need to answer to her?
“I pay you to do what I tell you to do,” I spit, my voice harsh. “Each and every one of you is free to walk out that door.” Five sets of eyes widen. I can almost feel the fear radiating off them. “You should consider yourself lucky that I’m paying you a hundred grand to do nothing at all.” I storm over to the door and hold it open, glaring back at the girls. “Anyone wish to leave?”
Nobody moves.
“Good,” I growl, narrowing my eyes. “Now, if you insist on having something to do, I’ll give you something to do.”
Back in my office a half hour later, I lean against the picture window and gaze outside, ignoring Marina’s soft knock on the door. I know it’s her from the gentle click of her heeled shoes. After her working so long with me and my family, it’s those little things I’ve come to be familiar with.
“Mr. Murphy?” I turn around, raising my eyebrow at her. She stands in the doorway, wearing her usual straight knitted skirt that falls to midcalf and a white shirt, pressed to perfection. She stares at me, her expression confused. “Why are the girls outside cleaning the house?”
I smirk. Pulling back my chair, I sink onto the soft leather and toss my feet up on my desk.
“You said yourself they wanted something to do,” I say with a chuckle. I toss a balled-up piece of paper at the trash can and miss. “I might as well get my money’s worth, right?” She hesitates. I wave my hand, frustrated by her disapproval. “Whatever it is, just say it.”
“You’re spending an awful lot of time with Charlotte,” she says, her mouth forming a frown. I bite back a scathing remark. Is she worried about her job security? I dismiss the thought as quickly as it appeared. I know she’s just looking out for my best interests. But I’m a big boy. I’m more than capable of looking after myself.
“That’s my business and my business only,” I say. “Can you please see that the girls move on to cleaning my cars when they are finished outside?”
“Certainly, Mr. Murphy,” she responds stiffly. She turns around and exits the room, closing the door behind her. Picking up my cell, I chuckle to myself as I bring up Charlotte’s number. I’m pleased when she answers my call immediately.
