NINE
Stella
It was dark when we landed in San Francisco. From what I saw of the twinkling lights in the city’s skyline, it’s a beautiful city.
You know what else is beautiful? Clay’s ass in those jeans.
I was pleasantly shocked to see him dressed down for once when he picked me up to head to the airport. I’m so used to his power suits—and birthday suit—but he’s rocking the hell out of those faded jeans and his v-neck tee.
Mama likes.
Eye-fucking my boss while he checks us into our hotel, my phone rings in my purse. Stepping away, I pull it out, surprised to see Brenda’s name on the caller ID.
I swipe across the screen and hold the phone to my ear. “Hey, Brenda. What’s up?”
“You tell me,” she says, sounding annoyed. “Your mom says you’re in San Francisco with Mr. Castle.”
“Yeah. He, uh, needed an extra set of hands on this trip.”
“You must’ve made quite the impression on him. Even got a promotion, from the sound of it, because I sure never got invited on his business trips. Then again, I’m not as young and beautiful as I used to be.”
Shit. She knows I’m sleeping with him.
My eyes squeeze shut as I try and figure out what to say. “Look, Brenda, it’s not as bad as it sounds—”
“You’re fucking him, Stella! I didn’t give you the job so you could assist him in bed.”
“I know!” I hiss as quietly as I can, glancing at Clay at the front desk. “I wasn’t the one who came on to him. I didn’t initiate squat. And if you think he’s my sugar daddy, then think again. It just happened, Brenda. Neither one of us saw it coming, and now… Now I think I may be falling for him.”
She sighs on the other end. “I know you didn’t seduce him, Stella. I know you’d never do that. Just … be careful, okay? There’s no such thing as anonymity when you’re involved with Clayton Castle. Everyone wants a piece of him, and there are people who would literally throw you under the bus to get him.”
I watch Clay hand our bags over to the bellboy before approaching me. “Okay. I, uh, gotta go. Talk to you later.” I hang up the phone, staring at it for a second, and then slip it back into my purse.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Brenda knows we’re sleeping together.”
He frowns. “How?”
I sigh before the words tumble out. “She’s my aunt, and apparently my mother said something about me coming to San Francisco with you, and … yeah. I guess she put two and two together.” I wince. “Are you mad?”
Clay shrugs. “Half the employees in my office know I’m fucking you. What’s one more?” he says wryly.
“I’m sorry.”
Lifting my chin, he smiles down at me. “Don’t ever be sorry for fucking me, Miss Moretti.”
My guilt and worry automatically melts away when he smiles at me like that. Stepping closer, I fist the front of his shirt and tilt my head back until our lips are almost touching. “I’m not sorry about that. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be quieter when you were making me come in your office.”
I cut off his groan with a kiss as his hands rest on my hips, digging into my sides. I know from experience he likes to cup my ass when we kiss, but he’s probably refraining since we’re still in public and all.
When I pull back, I can tell he’s thinking the same thing I am: we need to find someplace private, stat.
“You get us checked in?” I ask, my breathing already uneven.
“Yeah.” He sounds pained, until I realize he’s, you know, trying not to walk around with an erection. “You’re in room seventeen twenty-five,” he says, pulling a room key from his pocket. “One of the Presidential Suites.”
I take it from him and put it in my purse. “What about you? Are you gonna be close by?”
He grins. “Close by? Miss Moretti, I’m gonna be about eight inches deep in that pussy all fucking night. You’re gonna have to learn to sleep with my cock inside you.”
My whole body heats at the mental picture he’s just painted. “You want us to sleep in the same bed?”
“I’ve wanted that since the first night I fucked you, Stella. It scared me then, but now…” He shrugs. “I’m tired of fighting it. And I’m really fucking tired of waking up in the middle of the night, wishing you were there to put me back to sleep.”
His simple declaration floors me, tangling the breath in my lungs. And when he takes my hand in his and presses a reverent kiss to my forehead, I feel that rush—that feeling of falling for someone—settle over me, saturating me to my soul.
I am completely, 100% in love with this man.
When he pulls back, I realize too late that we’ve got an audience.
Shock crosses Clay’s face. “Claire.”
She’s every bit as beautiful in person, her clothes immaculate and couture. Not a single blond hair is out of place, her makeup flawless.
I feel like an imposter in my $25 H&M dress.
“Clayton,” she says coolly. Her ice blue eyes land on me, dissecting me like I’m something she scraped off the bottom of her Louboutins. “I see you’ve found yourself a new toy. What grade are you in, sweetheart?”
“Watch it,” he warns.
She smirks. “What? I’m just surprised you’re sponsoring field trips now. How very philanthropic of you. Tell me, Clayton, do you have a signed permission slip from her parents?”
“That’s enough.”
I place a hand on his chest when he takes a step forward, patting him. “Easy, baby. She’s obviously projecting her insecurities about getting older onto us. She’s got to be pushing, what, fifty?”
Claire Sutherland doesn’t look a day over 29, but that’s because of talented plastic surgeons, not genetics. She’s actually pushing 40, and if I had to guess, none too pleased about it.
Her pretty face morphs into an ugly snarl in the blink of an eye. “You shut your mouth, you little slut.”
I push on Clay’s chest when I feel him move forward again, silencing whatever he’s about to say.
“C’mon, Clay.” I fist the front of his shirt, dragging him behind me. “Your little slut wants to take you upstairs and give you the best pussy you’ve ever had.” Glancing back at her, I wink. “His words, not mine.”
Claire looks absolutely livid as I saunter away, practically leading Clay behind me by the dick. When we step onto the empty elevator, he pins me against the wall.
“Please tell me that wasn’t just an empty threat.”
I grin up at him, playfully licking his lips. “Threat? Baby, that was a promise.”
***
“This is nice.” I thread my fingers through Clay’s in the warm water of the whirlpool tub as I sit between his legs and lean back against his chest. It’s the perfect way to relax after tearing into each other once we got up to the room.
His arms slip around me, hugging me tight. “I’m sorry I’ve been keeping you at arms length. I didn’t want to. I just thought…” His exhale tickles my neck. “If I pretended this wasn’t real, then it wouldn’t be. I wasn’t ready for you.”
“I wasn’t ready for you either. I’ve only been single for a few months and I’ve been busy trying to find my footing. This was the absolute last thing I expected to happen.”
I look over my shoulder when I feel him tense behind me. “What?”
“Just hearing you casually mention an ex fills me with jealous rage.”
“Good.” The water sloshes in the tub as I turn around, moving to straddle him. I give him a quick kiss.
“It sure as hell doesn’t feel good,” he grumbles.
“Hey, your ex called me a slut today. All mine did was get mentioned. In the past tense, I might add.”
“I’m sorry. Claire’s … a fucking nightmare.” He scowls.
I bite my lip before quietly asking, “Why were you with her?” If that’s the kind of girl he likes—or liked—then what does that mean for me?
It definitely doesn’t bode well.
“Because I didn’t know how evil she was. She’s manipulative and narcissistic, and was apparently cheating on me almost the entire time we were together. Finding her in bed with my best friend was the best thing that ever happened to me. In a really painful, roundabout way, it led me to you.” His eyes search mine. “I went back for you, you know. Every night for two weeks straight, I went back to Oblivion and looked for you.”
I had no idea.
A beautiful, bittersweet feeling floods me. “You did?” Part of me can’t believe he did that, and the other part hurts knowing he didn’t find me until much later.
“Yes. And you have no idea how happy I am to have found you.”
Oh, I have an idea.
Happy tears prick my eyes. “You went from being a dick to making me cry. Thanks.” Laughing, I wipe at my cheeks, but my hands are wet so now my face is even wetter.
Clay grabs a towel from beside the tub and hands it to me.
“Why were you there in the first place?” I sniffle. “Oblivion doesn’t seem like your scene.”
He tucks a stray lock of hair that fell out of my bun behind my ear. “It’s not. I’m friends with the owner. He’d been bugging me to swing by, so…” He shrugs.
I drop the towel on the bathmat. “You’re friends with William King? The guy’s a Nazi.”
He shrugs again. “You don’t get to be where he is without being a bit of a dictator—emphasis on the dick.”
My brow quirks. “You should know.”
“How much emphasis to put on my dick?” he asks, flexing his cock as it’s nestled underneath me.
I chuckle. “Yeah, that. You’re an expert.” Leaning forward, I rest my cheek on his shoulder. “Can we stay like this all weekend?”
Clay rests his head against mine and softly rubs my back. “I wish. I’ve got back-to-back meetings all day tomorrow, but tomorrow night I’m all yours. We can go sightseeing if you want. Or we can stay in, order lots of room service, and watch TV between bouts of sweaty, mind-blowing sex.”
My eyes squeeze shut. “That sounds like heaven.”
“We can do that tonight too, you know.” His hands trail lower, cupping my ass as he grinds against me.
But then my stomach rumbles.
He sighs. “Right. First food, then sex.”