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There’s a knock on the door as I’m mashing the potatoes, and my pulse jumps. I wipe my hands on my apron and answer it. The billionaire stands on my doorstep looking casually handsome in a navy sweater and jeans. His dark hair is mussed as his azure eyes take me in.
“Hey sweetheart,” he growls. “You look cute in that apron.”
I look down, and sure enough I have my puppy apron on. I love terriers and this one is a veritable hurricane of gray and brown terriers scampering on a blue background.
“Oh this,” I say laughing before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I got it for my birthday from my mom. But come in,” I say. “How did you get past the front door?”
He grins.
“I followed one of your neighbors up. Security here isn’t great, honey,” he says with a frown. “They didn’t even ask who I was meeting in the building.”
I nod.
“I know, and management has sent around emails discussing that kind of stuff. But some folks just don’t care, even if this is the big bad city.” With that, I usher him inside, and Julian looks around. For the first time, I see it from his eyes and realize how shabby and small my apartment must look to the CEO. My saggy sofa is a moss green that I’ve covered with a colorful patchwork quilt, and my table and chairs are second-hand from the charity shop on the corner. Still, my home is vibrant and cozy, and I smile bravely while pouring him some scotch.
“Here you go,” I say, pushing the tumbler towards him.
“Thanks sweetheart,” he growls before taking a deep gulp. “Remind me to get you an apron like that for when you’re over at my place.”
“Oh you!” I giggle before turning back to my cooking. “Always teasing me.” We settle into easy banter and soon, dinner’s ready. The aroma from the chicken is heavenly as I place it on the table, and Julian looks hungrily at the mashed potatoes.
“Thanks for making all this, sweetheart,” he growls. “I’ve always loved home-cooked meals.”
I pause while pouring us wine.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier? I could have cooked us something in the kitchen at your suite.”
He shrugs while stealing a piece of carrot.
“Just didn’t want to wear you out, Linds,” he chuckles. “Not when I’m already wearing you out in other ways.”
That’s my man, and we laugh and talk while digging into the food. Julian seems to loosen up as we eat, becoming louder and more gregarious. I top off his wine several times, but my man knows how to control himself. He’s not going to do anything like drive drunk or make a fool of himself.
Soon, our plates are empty and we snuggle up on my couch to watch a movie. My sofa, although old and somewhat saggy, is still very comfy and I lean against Julian while flicking through Netflix on the flatscreen.
“Is there anything you want to watch?” I ask, zooming past some anime and sitcoms.
Julian shakes his head. “No, you go ahead and choose, sweetheart.”
“Okay, but then you can’t complain if you don’t like it!” I joke before pressing start on a steamy drama that I’ve wanted to watch for a while. It’s about a divorced woman who’s being stalked by her boss, who’s a powerful CEO. It’s exactly my type of show, and I settle in with my man’s hand in my lap.
But after ten minutes, Julian is still oddly tense. His eyes are fixated on the screen, but I can tell he’s not really watching.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
He jerks and turns to me.
“No, everything’s good,” he says. “This is a great show.”
I laugh and kiss his jaw.
“I know you’re not into women’s drama, but Lipstick Fever is really good, I promise,” I say. “Just watch another ten minutes and you’ll see.”
But after ten minutes, my man still hasn’t relaxed despite the fact that the show’s now hit a steamy scene. As the heroine makes out with her man, both characters moaning and panting, I get an idea of my own. My hands roam over the CEO’s body until I find the zipper to his pants and teasingly, I pull it down. He starts, looking at me with blazing blue eyes, but remains unmoving. Good. He’s into this.
Then I shift on the couch so that my mouth hovers a few inches above his crotch and slipping down his pants and boxers, I take his cock in my hand and start to rub it, enjoying the way his balls jerk as he lets out a low moan. With a giggle, my mouth closes around his tip and Julian jerks again, his big hand cradling my head.
“Fuck, baby girl,” he hisses. “You know how to treat a man right.”
I make a mm-hmm sound in the back of my throat and slowly continue to raise and lower my mouth on his stiff shaft. But even as I run my tongue tantalizingly over the vein on the left side, he doesn’t grow hard. He’s not exactly soft, but this definitely isn’t the shaft of steel that I’m used to playing with.
