Chapter 11

Carter

It’s like waking up on Christmas morning as a kid again. I feel that same kind of excitement—that same raw, unbridled energy, like there’s something magical about to happen the moment I open my eyes and rouse myself from my dreams.

Only this time, I’m a grown-ass man in my own fucking apartment.

This time, there’s no floozy drunk on eggnog strutting around wrapped up in my father’s robe.

This time, the present I’m looking forward to is worth so much more than a toy helicopter or a classic car.

And this time, the angel that belongs on top of the tree is actually nestled here in my arms, still sound asleep…

And drooling on my chest.

I smooth her hair away from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on her temple—before she can wake up and ruin this moment for both of us.

That’s the beauty of June being asleep, naked, in my arms. I can be as sweet as I want to be to her when she’s like this, and I don’t have to hear any fucking sass from her about it.

Of course, it doesn’t take long for the moment to be spoiled.

June wakes up.

Instead of reveling in the afterglow with me, she opens her eyes and bolts upright, instantly disturbing the peace that only seconds ago surrounded me.

I sigh.

“What—” she cries just before her frantic eyes find me.

Luckily, as soon as she sees me, she relaxes.

“Well, good morning gorgeous,” she says and leans toward me.

Tempted as I am to watch her overcompensate, for I’m sure that’s what she’s about to do, I grab her by the shoulders and kiss her.

“Indeed it is, June. Indeed, it is.”

Hungry for more, she wraps her arms around me, and, for a while, time just slows down. There’s nothing else in the world except her sweetly delicious mouth and my tongue exploring it.

As wonderful as that is while it lasts, eventually nature calls, and I need to get out of bed.

I feel her eyes on me as I make my way to the bathroom. My massive cock is standing straight up in the air, as if it’s been summoned into action by some ineffable force.

Her gasp is beautiful and loud as she takes in the sight.

When I’m done, I offer her the bathroom.

“How about a shower?” I suggest.

“Sounds nice.”

I meet her with a massive bath sheet, and lead her to the main bathroom. It has one of those massive overhead showerheads and two additional ones coming out of the wall at shoulder height.

Her eyes widen as she takes in the enormity of the room.

“This is bigger than my bedroom at my dad’s house,” she tells me, then turns on the hot water without hesitation.

“Don’t make it too hot,” I warn her, and she grimaces.

“I can shower on my own you know,” she says and steps into the massive cubicle.

As if trying to add some weight to her words, she trips on the lip of the shower on the way in.

Briefly, she’s unbalanced. Her arms flail, and she struggles to find something to grab onto.

Quick as lightning, my reflexes kick in, and I catch her just before she falls against one of the glass panels.

I turn her towards me. “You were saying?”

I step into the shower with her. For a few minutes—more like a few seconds, actually—she’s silent.

“I would have been alright,” she finally says and turns her back to me.

Instead of a spoken reply, I slap her on the ass.

Then I grab some soap and start washing her back. I pay particular attention to those butt cheeks.

And I’m sure she needs help with her pussy.

When I’m satisfied she’s clean, I start working on myself.

Now, it’s her turn to intervene in the bathing process.

“Excuse me?” she gasps. “You think you can have all the fun around here?”

Without a word, I hand her the soap. Slowly, she glides it down my back, over my ass and toward my front. Her fingers find my pulsing cock and gently massage the soap on it.

Suddenly, I think having a shower together may not have been the best idea.

Instead of reveling in her touch, I turn around, kiss her, and take the soap away from her.

Silently, I rinse myself off, then I turn off the water.

She stands there, hands on her hips, and pouting.

“We’ve got a job to go to, remember?” I ask pointedly while stepping out of the shower.

With a sigh, June slowly leaves the shower.

“What am I going to wear today, after...” June doesn’t finish her thought.

Of course, I know what she’s referring to.

We haven’t really spoken about last night, about my small discovery about her.

“I...” I start but am not quite sure what to say. “Your skirt...”

Her expression brightens.

“Of course...” She claps her hands. “I’ll wear my skirt and the shirt you brought me last night, at least until...”

She lets the words hang in the air. She’s probably too embarrassed to tell me she can’t go shopping until she gets paid.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen in five,” I say and kiss her.

My own clothes are in my room.

When I go to the kitchen, June’s already there. It smells delicious.

“What are you doing?” I inquire, picking up two mugs.

She turns and fills them from a freshly brewed pot of coffee.

Okay, this is nice. I can work with this.

I grab a carton of milk from the fridge.

“Sugar?” June asks.

I shake my head. “You?”

“Nope,” she smiles. “Sweet enough as it is. At least that’s what daddy dearest always tells me.”

I chuckle. Daddy dearest sounds delightful. I think I’d like to meet him one day.

That thought came out of nowhere.

“Plates?”

“To your right,” I point, touching her shoulder.

June picks up the frying pan, and my eyes widen when I see what’s sliding onto the plate.

“Hope you like omelets,” she says and hands me my plate.

As she does so, our fingers touch. I feel a warm sensation. She’s smiling.

“It’s my favorite,” I confess and kiss her on the tip of her nose.

When I’m finished eating the most delicious breakfast I’ve had in a long time, I make sure to start clearing the plates and washing up before she gets a chance.

It feels natural to do the dishes since she cooked. The chef doesn’t clean. That’s my philosophy.

It should be, at least.

I’m amazed at myself. I can’t recall the last time I washed up.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re walking to work.

The second she sits behind her desk, the phone goes crazy. I linger a little longer than necessary, watching her work.

“No, I don’t think you will need to speak to Mr. Abraham about that.”

I pause. I try and catch her eye, but to no avail. She’s looking at her notepad.

“You heard correctly. I know Mr. Abrahams is not interested. Thank you.”

“What was that about?”

It feels strange for her to be making decisions on my behalf.

June gives me her biggest smile before she replies.

“Some charity, which I think, by the way, was really a fraud, asking you to donate some money for some weird event coming up.”

Wow.

She’s fucking brilliant.

“Carry on,” I tell her and go inside my private office.

There are about a hundred meetings I have to go to, several million phone calls to return and, a budget meeting to plan.

Occasionally, June comes in and gets me to sign things or brings me coffee and a donut.

At one o’clock, she makes sure I have my lunch.

To my own horror, there’s barely any time to talk to her.

When she comes into my office I try and find a reason to touch her. She pretends it’s not happening.

By the time it’s afternoon, I feel as if I’ve been at work for a week. I can’t recall the last time I’ve had a day as busy as this.

And I can’t recall the last time I’ve been as productive as I’ve been today.

“If you wouldn’t mind signing these, please do, so I can get them into the mail before four today.”

June’s standing in front of me, looking incredibly sexy in that shirt of mine. She’s got it tied around her waist in order to bring it in and not have it hang around her knees like a dress that’s several sizes too big.

The way she’s wearing it, it could be part of the latest female power look.

“What are they?” I ask the question to make sure she stays in the office for more than a minute. If I engage her in conversation, I can check out her curves, her lips, and her ass.

“There are checks for invoices that need to be paid, letters to go with the checks, and then there’s a mail-out you’d been planning to do and invitations to be answered.”

Fuck.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Where’d you learn all this, June?”

She shrugs. “Back home.”

I nod.

“You certainly are a lady full of surprises,” I tell her.

June puts her hands on my table and leans toward me. The way she’s positioned, I can see the gap between her breasts.

“You’d be surprised what other skills I have, skills you haven’t discovered…yet.”