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The light on the landing is dim as I head towards my bedroom door. It’s strange not going to check on Daisy. Everything is different tonight—no wonder I feel restless.
I hover on the landing for a minute, reluctant to go into my bedroom and end any possibility of seeing her again tonight. My eyes close for a second as I try to get a grip on my emotions.
I’d be breaking my own rule if I went up to her room.
But then I open my eyes, and she’s standing before me, her hair flowing over her shoulders. I was so lost in thought; I didn’t hear her walking down the stairs from the top floor.
‘You okay?’ I ask, startled.
‘Yes. I left something downstairs, that’s all. Sorry, I didn’t mean to creep up on you.’
‘No, you’re fine. I was in a world of my own,’ I say.
I can only make out her shadow in the faint light and can just about see she’s wearing some kind of skimpy summer nightshirt and her long legs are bare.
We both move at the same time, and my breath catches in my throat as we brush past each other and our bodies touch. It’s like I’ve been burnt, and my senses explode with longing.
She smells of soap and flowers, and I inhale her scent like a dying man taking his last gasp.
Pausing, I say, ‘Shall I get it for you?’
She teases me in a whisper as if we need to be careful that we don’t wake Daisy up. ‘You’re the only boss I’ve ever had who asks what they can get for me. Isn’t it supposed to be me—your employee—asking what I can do for you?’
I know exactly what I’d like her to do for me, and my blood’s racing in my veins, making me dizzy and my head is pounding, but I say, ‘That might be true if I were only your boss. But we said we are friends.’
‘True,’ she says. ‘Youdid say that.’ She’s standing so close to me, I could reach out and touch her, but I keep my hands firmly at my sides. My eyes have adjusted to the light, and I see her nightie is like a stripey man’s shirt with buttons running down the front, and a slit up both thighs. The buttons reveal a tantalising glimpse of her tanned cleavage, but it’s not an overtly sexy piece of lingerie. It’s very tom-boyish, but the effect it has on me is alarming. She’s sexy whatever she wears. My already straining cock stands to full attention, and an overwhelming wave of lust shoots through me. My self-discipline is waning rapidly as my eyes drift to her pink lips, and I imagine running my tongue over them and kissing her all night.
Keep your hands off her, Rochester.
‘Have you ever slept with a friend?’ She murmurs and at first, I’m not sure I hear her right.
What?
I search her eyes and see a world of desire that matches mine.
‘I don’t think I have. But I’d very much like to,’ I reply softly, and before I can remind myself of my own stupid rule, our lips collide, and we melt into each other. She presses against me, and I feel her hard nipples through the thin fabric of her nightshirt. I’m on fire, and frantic with longing. Now it’s happening I can’t hold back. She’s not holding back either and is completely opening herself up to me. We somehow manoeuvre against the wall as we kiss deeply, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths. She’s breathing heavily and I feel her warm breath on my face as I pause for a second and tilt her against the wall. She’s tall but I’m taller and I bend my head to kiss her again and lift her slightly as one of her legs wraps around me.
We’re both panting now, and my hard length presses into her flesh through my jeans, as she moans and pushes herself against me and drives me insane.
She rubs her hand over my crotch and fumbles with my zipper in the dim light. I’m so close to having her soft hands on me again, but I grit my teeth and force myself to pause and ask, ‘What about our agreement to be just friends?’
I’m close to losing my mind, but I can’t fuck things up between us again. It’s not fair to Daisy, and I can’t risk her quitting because of me, no matter how much I want her. The most we can have is a casual relationship and if she wants more, it’s only fair to make it clear I can’t give her that.Ever.
The words are bitter for me to say, but I push them out one by one through my dry throat, and don’t relent.‘I can’t offer you a serious relationship. It’s complicated and to do with the terms of my inheritance.’
There’s a wanton abandon in her eyes. ‘I know,’ she says. ‘It’s okay. I don’t want anything serious, anyway.’ In her alluring French accent, she adds, ‘Friends with benefits, then?’
I need no further invitation, as she tugs on my zipper again and helps me pull my jeans and then my shorts down. My aching need juts out and when she touches me with her warm hand and falls to her knees in front of me on the thick carpet, I think I may pass out from the bliss of her tongue rolling around my starved flesh.
‘Nathalie,’ I gasp. ‘Oh, Nathalie!’
CHAPTER23
Nathalie
I enter my room and lean against the door.
Merde!
