Chapter Seven
Zaine looked at the invitation with cursive font the courier had brought. In a week, he had an important ball to attend. Lara Annick, the head organizer of a future pediatric cancer hospital, was hosting a fundraising party in Honolulu. She still hadn’t officially chosen an architect for the project, but he knew she had to—she needed pitches and contracts to have an estimated amount to show to her board and to attract investors.
Zaine wouldn’t miss it for the world. His heart clutched. He’d lost his twin brother to pancreatic cancer. Zachary had been a gifted pianist, and such a generous soul. He’d be here today, talking to him and making him laugh, if that horrible illness hadn’t claimed him at thirty-four years old.
Because of his known talent, clients usually came to him and not the other way around. But he’d change the rules this time—as long as he worked on something big, to help ease the guilt of being alive while his brother was not. Besides, Lara had worked with Ashley in the past. He’d hate to lose the opportunity, and would hate even more to bring his personal affairs to her attention. Though, at this point most of their circle knew they’d separated and were headed for divorce.
They’d sent a joint letter to clients a few weeks prior, to assure them they’d still work together on projects they’d committed to. Was that still the case after he’d kicked her out of his home? He’d also called his lawyer and scheduled a meeting to talk about speeding the divorce process. At first, there’d been no real urgency. Zaine and Ashley were two adults, and parted amicably. Now, after the bad blood from their last exchange, he wanted to make sure he did whatever he could to expedite the paperwork.
His cell phone rang, and he scooped it from the table. Doug. He supposed this would be awkward any which way, so he might as well do it now. They hadn’t really chatted lately, what with Zaine not being in the mood for pretending to be nice. “Zaine here.”
“Hey, man.” Doug cleared his throat on the other end of the line. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
Zaine grabbed a Mont Blanc pen from the stainless steel holder and played with it, rolling it in between his fingers. “What’s up?”
Doug breathed into the phone. Was he nervous? “Okay, so don’t hate me, but I couldn’t pass up this opportunity.”
Zaine sighed. “What is it?”
“I was invited to Lara’s party too, and I’m going…and I’ll try to get her business. Ashley would be my interior designer if it’s accepted. We’d work together.”
Zaine clenched the pen, his blood chilling. Oh, great. He would bet money that Ashley had gone to Doug with this vindictive scheme. She knew he’d wanted to be a part of that new hospital from when they were married, and rumors had started. “How unexpected,” he said ironically. “Let me guess, this would be Ashley’s idea?”
“Listen, this is a business decision. I thought I’d do the right thing and clear the air, let you know.”
“All right. Thanks,” he said, then hung up the phone.
He’d always welcomed competition and never feared it. After all, he’d worked hard to establish himself as one of the top architects in the country. His clients booked him a long time ahead and didn’t flinch at his rate.
I know why I’m worried. If Ashley really believed he’d cheated on her while married and for some reason wanted to take from him the one thing he wanted badly, she’d do anything to achieve her goal. He needed to keep his head in the game and be one step ahead of her. But how? He didn’t have a relationship with Lara Annick—not yet. That’s why this trip to Hawaii would be a chance to make a good impression and seize the opportunity. He’d make a fat donation and small talk and then schedule a lunch or dinner to show her his ideas. Unlike others who might be interested in the account, he had a personal reason to take it. He had passion. He had—
“Mr. Cavanaugh,” said his assistant through the intercom, pulling him from his thoughts. “Someone’s here to speak to you.”
He clicked on the button to speak. “I don’t see it on my calendar.”
“I’m sorry. It’s your housemaid. She said it’s an emergency and she wouldn’t tell me what it is.”
Maid? He’d called the agency earlier in the morning, but he expected the new cleaner to arrive in a couple of days. At his house, not in his office. He scratched his chin. Maybe they got the place wrong. “Send her in.”
Monique walked through the doors, wearing a black trench coat and high heels. She looked like the cover of a Vogue magazine. During the last couple weeks, they’d spent almost every night together. He’d decided not to overthink about her occasionally sleeping with him through the night—why would he? She had a ticket back to France, so he’d enjoyed her company, her sassy attitude, her sense of humor without guilt or worries.
“Why did you say you were the maid?” he asked when she closed the door behind her.
“Because I’m here to clean your office, Monsieur,” she said, removing the coat and tossing it across the room.
His mouth went dry.
Monique wore a short, tight black dress with a ruffled white apron tied at her waist. It reminded him of those Halloween maid costumes. She fished a small duster from her bag. “I figured you wouldn’t mind,” she said, and covered her mouth with her hand, feigning surprise. “You don’t mind, do you, Monsieur?”
He bit back a smile. Frenchie wanted to role-play. “Not at all.”
“Good,” she said, her accent more pronounced.
She flashed him a megawatt smile, and bent over the sofa enough so he could peek at her perky, round ass. Desire roared inside him, and he unbuckled his belt.
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Wait. What are you doing?”
“Getting ready, sweet lady.”
She lifted her eyebrow and shook her head in disapproval. “Duty always comes first. I must finish cleaning before we can play.”
She began by pretending to dust off his shelves, because the office had an efficient cleaning crew who made sure the place sparkled. Besides, all she wanted, he guessed, was to tease him with the sexy sway of her hips, making the bottom part of her dress twirl. Each time the ruffles swooshed, he touched his heart to make sure he didn’t have to call 911. Not yet, anyway.
She leaned over his desk, giving him a generous view of her breasts. “Monsieur has kept his space clean. You deserve a treat.”
Oh, how he enjoyed their delicious foreplays. “Do I?”
“Yes.” She reached over his desk, and for once he didn’t care about anything else. Documents fell to the floor, soon followed by pens, his cell phone, and the sleek keyboard from his Mac computer. She pulled down the flimsy material, flashing him her large breasts.
He stretched out his hand to cup her tit, but she smacked it away.
“Not yet.”
Fuck. His balls tingled. “You forget, my dirty maid, that I’m your boss,” he said, taking charge in this adult pretend play. “If you don’t do as I say, I’ll fire you.”
“Monsieur.” She widened her pretty eyes. “You wouldn’t, would you?”
He stood, cock in hand. “I don’t know…” he said, stroking himself, feeling his veins expand and pound. He walked to the middle of his large office. “You haven’t shown me how eager you are to keep this position.”
She moaned. “Oh, I’m eager.”
He inched closer, while squeezing the tip of his cock. Their exchange alone raised his body temperature, but if he wanted to make it last, he had to slow down. “You’ve come to work without your panties. How unprofessional,” he said with the harsh tone of someone who meant it.
She fanned her face, a shade of pink staining her cheeks. “I’m sorry… I was feeling so hot. I decided to leave them at home.”
“Well, your naughty cream will stain my furniture. The sofa you grinded yourself on cost me thousands of dollars.”
She tilted her head to the side, her gaze sliding down his body until it settled on his hard-on. She licked her lips without taking her eyes off him. “I’m sure there’s a way we can work out a payment plan.”
“I call it a punishment plan. Sit on the sofa.”
She did as she was told.
“Open your legs for me.”
She spread her legs, and soon her pink smooth pussy glistened in front of him, ripe for the taking. He grabbed the duster from her hand as the wicked idea occurred to him. Then, he used the feathery side to tease her. She moaned, and he was glad his assistant had gone on a lunch break. “Oh yes.”
He continued the motion slowly, making sure each feather stroked her folds. She closed her eyes and angled her head back against the wall, her body shifting in the seat. His eyes slid down her costume. Her tits rose and fell as she breathed, and he couldn’t wait to lick them and suck her engorged nipples, to graze his teeth on the rosy peaks. But first things first.
He turned the duster around so the tip of the wood handle brushed against her slick folds.
She opened her eyes, surprised.
“This is part of the punishment,” he said. “For being a dirty French maid.”
She chewed her lower lip. He thrust the tip of the handle inside her, and she whimpered when he withdrew it. His girl liked it filthy, and he couldn’t be more pleased. His cock stirred. Well, he could be more pleased. Just not this second.
He started to fuck her with the handle, each time faster and deeper. Her addicting scent of arousal filled the air around him, and he wondered how much longer he could go without a taste. “Yes, baby, work that cunt for me,” he said. “God, you’re sexy.”
He scooted her ass to the edge of the sofa, and she bucked into the object, showing him she wanted more. She was close. Because the handle didn’t have a thick girth, he’d been able to get her ready faster. Could she be more ready? Impossible, he realized, with the squishy sound from her wet folds each time he plunged it in and out of her.
Every time they made love, he felt a stronger connection, and he was more eager to claim her, as if he had the right to. Each touch, each kiss carried a promise. For what? What did he have to give her?
“Zaine…”
Her musky scent made him want to dive between her thighs, to lose himself inside and never come up for air. “I’ll take it from here on,” he said, withdrawing the handle and tossing it away. She gasped, and he brought her to his mouth. Her pearly essence dripped from her folds, and he lapped at them, thrusting his face in her pussy as far as he could go. He savored her, his tongue working up and down her sex. Her clit swelled, and he flicked it with his thumb.
Soon, she creamed, and he licked her until the last drop. The tip of his tongue traced over a dribble running down her thigh. Then he stood while she recovered, her body still shivering, her breath labored. “Suck me,” he ordered. “I want to fuck your mouth.”
She smacked her lips and got to her knees. He stood in the middle of the room, enjoying the full experience of this gorgeous woman kneeling before him, her manicured nails running up and down his length.
He held his dick and put it inside her mouth unceremoniously. She took it, and when she started to suck him, he withdrew. With the tip, he tapped on her open mouth, watching her gaze follow his. A scorching arousal zapped through him, pre-cum bubbling at the tip of his cock. She stretched out her tongue to catch some of his jism.
“You want my dick, don’t you?”
“Oui.”
“You’re supposed to be cleaning, yet you’re filthy.” He slapped her cheek with his cock, gently. “Lucky for you, so am I.”
He plunged into her mouth, and she held some of his rod. He didn’t expect her to deep-throat him, but she closed her lips around his cock and sucked him deep while squeezing his balls hard. Her gaze continued to hold his, fire flickering in the depths of her eyes. She sucked him, fiercely, while simultaneously playing with his heavy scrotum.
Fuck. She latched onto his dick, and he threw his head back.
“Yes,” he groaned.
He knew she’d swallow him like the cock-sucking expert she was, but he preferred to come inside her tight pussy. He wanted to possess her, in his office, so he’d always remember how good it felt. How perfectly their bodies molded and limbs blended, resembling one of those Renaissance-type bronze sculptures that could never be broken apart.
He put her against his desk, her hands splayed against the wood, then nudged her thighs apart and thrust into her without warning, wanting to lose himself in her.
She was so wet…the heat and remnants of her orgasm drenching her folds. She looked over her shoulder, and he drew in a breath. “You like it this way, non, Monsieur? Being in charge.”
I do. Every time they screwed, he expected her to deny him, to put an end to the madness he’d proposed. But she was as addicted to the ramming as he was. As eager. As filthy. “So do you.”
He withdrew his cock halfway, then dove back in with a powerful thrust.
She moaned, and that time he doubted people on the floor below couldn’t hear them. Yet, he didn’t care. He, the consummate professional, the guy who avoided taking personal calls at work and who didn’t waste time, was taking a serious time-out and screwing in his office. Who was he kidding? Neither of them was in charge.
Monique gathered the strength to scoot out of his arms, planted her feet on the floor, and stood. She wriggled into the Halloween costume she’d bought at a sex shop. The moment she’d seen it through the window, images of her seducing him filled her mind until she found herself walking out of the shop carrying the props in a bag.
Reality, of course, surpassed the fantasy. Leftover ardor still lurked in her veins, and she tossed her hair to the side, finger combing it in an attempt to make herself somewhat presentable when she left his office.
“Monique?” he called, still sprawled on his sofa, delectable and available.
“Oui?”
“I love when you oui me. Makes me feel like ouiing the hell out of you all over again.”
She smoothed her hands over the dress, already feeling her nipples straining against the cheap fabric. “Well then, I’ll throw in some French lessons sometime.”
He grinned, surged to his feet, then put on his boxers and pants. “I must warn you, I can be an unruly student.”
“That’s why they created the paddle board, n’est-ce pas?” she said teasingly, even though the idea of hurting his perfectly smooth, muscly ass didn’t appeal to her.
Zaine zipped up and perched his hand on his waist, sizing her up. “You bring the paddle and we’ll have a hell of a time, professor. I just can’t guarantee it’ll stay in your hand for long,” he said, his words raising goose bumps on her arms.
“We shall see, mon chéri,” she said jokingly. God, if he had made the freaking duster into a sex toy, what would he do to her if he got his hands on a paddle?
She picked up her trench coat and slipped it on, carefully buttoning up so no one would see the dress underneath. When she finished, she found him leaning in front of his imposing desk, regarding her like he had to watch her closely. A gleam of affection touched his eyes, like those two brown irises carried the secret message he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud. Almost as if…he didn’t want to let her go, and not just because he wanted her physically.
“Next week, I’d like to take you to Hawaii with me.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Why?”
“I have a business event there, and thought it’d be good to mix work and pleasure for once.”
“I thought you worked with your ex on projects in the past. Didn’t you ever mix things?”
He sighed. “Trust me, there wasn’t much pleasure involved then.”
His response made her pulse flutter foolishly. “All right. What days?”
“We could leave Thursday and be back Sunday evening. The party is on Saturday, but this will give me time to show you Honolulu and have some fun. Trust me, you’ll love it.”
She mentally went over her class schedule, remembering she had one that Friday. She rarely missed school, so hopefully an email to the teacher to explain her absence would get her off the hook. Despite their hot affair, she didn’t want to jeopardize her chances to pass the proficiency exam she’d been studying for. The one that would open the doors to a world she’d dreamed of for so long. Besides…Zaine had invited her to a business trip and didn’t mind being seen with her. What did that mean for them as a potential couple? “Okay, I’m in.”
He kissed her lips briefly, but enough to give her a taste and make her yearn for more.
She squared her shoulders, keeping her hormones in check. “Hawaii, huh?” she said, as a smile crept its way onto her lips.
“I can’t wait. I’ll take you shopping in a few days.”
“Why shopping?” The indecent amount of money he paid her more than covered all her expenses.
“Because this event we’re going to means a lot to me. It’s kind of fancy, so I don’t want you to have to buy anything out of your budget for the one night.”
“And you can?”
“I’m the boss, remember?”
She nudged his elbow. “You like to think you’re the boss, yes,” she said, teasing him. Who did she think she was fooling?