She was so much fun to tease, but I hadn’t been entirely joking. I did spend a lot of time with my cock in my hand, thinking about her. Probably more than was healthy, to be honest. But I hadn’t been able to get her off my mind.
So I imagined her getting me off in every way imaginable. And it worked for me.
Fuck, did it ever.
It was a little harder now that she was actually here, though. Okay, it was a lot harder, and I’m not just talking about my dick. Now that I’d found her, what the hell was I supposed to do with her? Somehow, I didn’t think she’d just fall into bed with me when I snapped my fingers. And she wasn’t just sexy; she had brains and a voice and she cooked a mean breakfast. The French toast I’d had the next morning at the house hadn’t been quite the same.
Or maybe it was the company, and the taste of cranberries on her tongue.
I finished myself off to the thought of that tongue on my cock, and jumped into the shower. That took thirty minutes off the sixty she’d allotted me to get to the music room on the main floor. I had enough time to slouch into the kitchen to grab a mug of lukewarm liquorice tea. Priscilla glared at me as I passed through the dining room, and I grinned at her.
“Hey, Granny.” I kissed her on the cheek, and she grumbled. She wasn’t my grandmother, but she sure looked a hell of a lot like her. Apart from being black, of course. “Gonna be a good day.”
“A good day?” She snorted rudely. “You’re in serious trouble with that girl around,” she said, pointing towards the hall. “She’s not going to stand your nonsense for long, Kyle.”
I chuckled and sipped at the tea. “Yeah, I was kinda hoping she wouldn’t be standing for long, either, but she’s stubborn.”
Priscilla closed her eyes. I waited, grinning. She did this whenever I said anything remotely suggestive. Finally, she opened her eyes and glared at me again.
“You really think she’s going to fall into bed with you if you keep talking like that, boy?”
I laughed turned away. “I just have to find the right words, Pris,” I said, making my way down the hall to the music room.
Charlotte was going through my sheet music, muttering under her breath. I leaned against the door frame and watched her as I drank my tea. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail today, but it still fell almost to the middle of her back. She was wearing black pants that hugged her perfect ass, and a fitted white blouse that showed off her amazing tits. When she bent over to pick a piece of score paper off the floor, my cock woke up and started pressing against my jeans.
Yeah, yeah. Maybe later.
“Everything all right?” I asked, taking another swallow of tea.
She straightened abruptly and turned on her heel, staring at me.
“This place is a disaster. How do you find anything?”
I stepped into the room and looked around, trying to see it the way she did. The lid of the baby grand piano was down, and still covered with score paper from my last battle with the muse. There were two guitars on stands near the back wall beside the windows: my old Gibson SG and a new Stratocaster I’d been tinkering with. Tyler had recommended it, and so far it had been everything he’d said.
Apart from the leather sofa and a couple of matching chairs – oh, and the coffee table between them – there wasn’t much to see. I didn’t let Priscilla or Arthur in here to clean up, though. The last thing I needed was for one of them to throw away something I’d been working on for days.
The room looked okay to me, and I had no idea why Charlotte was so frustrated.
“I manage,” I said, and frowned. “Why? What’s wrong with the way I keep it?”
She blinked at me, her fingers tightening around the sheets of score paper she was holding.
“Are you serious?” She used the music sheets to gesture wildly. “There’s paper everywhere, six empty mugs on the coffee table, and I’m pretty sure I saw a spider the size of Lake Michigan under the piano.”
I hid my smile behind my tea. “Yeah, she keeps me company when I’m writing.” Ever since I’d met Charlotte, I’d had a new respect for spiders.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Well, she’s moving out as soon as I find her again,” she said. She glanced around the room. “I’m ordering you a filing cabinet this afternoon, and you’ll use it.” She slapped the music down on the piano and pointed at me. “Because if you don’t, this is not going to go well for either of us.”
I sat down at the piano and opened the cover, running my fingers along the keys and plucking out a few notes. “I thought things were going pretty well for us already.” I looked up and grinned at her.
She rubbed her forehead and sighed. “Can you try to work with me, Kyle, or am I going to have to tell Walter that it’s hopeless?”
I chuckled and set my tea on the piano. She was there in an instant, lifting it and slipping a coaster under the mug.
We had coasters?
“I’ll do my best, doll.” I leaned over and grabbed the stack of music she’d left on top of the piano, flipping through it. She’d got the pages mostly in order; that was something, at least. “But I don’t need an assistant, and I definitely don’t need anyone to tell me how to do my fucking job.”
She sighed again. “I’d never try to tell you how to do your job, Kyle, and I understand that you might have a different system to keep yourself organised.” She kicked a few pieces of blank score paper that were scattered across the floor. “But this is a nightmare. You can’t possibly work efficiently in a place like this.” She waved a hand to indicate the whole room. “It’s like there was an explosion in a paper factory. And then your pet spider walked into an ink pot and crawled over everything.”
I’d like to make her my new pet spider.
I took a slow breath and clenched my teeth together. “Fine. Buy the fucking filing cabinet.” I stabbed a finger at her. “But you can’t make me use it.”
“The hell I can’t,” she snapped, dropping her hands to her hips. “I was hired to help you keep your appointments and stay on schedule. And if that means you have to start learning the alphabet in the right order for a change, you’ll do it.”
I growled, but she didn’t back down. The surprise I felt was almost enough to eclipse my thoughts about wrapping my own hands around those gorgeous hips.
“I didn’t hire you,” I snarled. “I didn’t even want a fucking assistant. I can mange my own time.”
She threw her hands up. “Then why haven’t you been?” I clenched my teeth together and looked away. “Walter is sick and tired of your bullshit, Kyle, and you know what’s at stake here!” She sighed and came over to the piano bench, stood behind me, and rested her hands on my shoulders. “From everything I’ve read about you, Kyle, you love what you do.” Her fingers kneaded my muscles, and my frustration started to melt away. “Don’t let this one thing screw it up for you.”
I didn’t say anything. Partly because I was still deciding what to say, but mostly because the way she was massaging my shoulders was doing incredible things to my dick.
Her voice was soft and gentle. “Please, Kyle?” She leaned over me, and I turned my head to look at her. Fuck, she had the prettiest mouth in the whole world. I don’t know how I stopped myself from kissing her. “Please try to work with me?” She smiled gently.
I sighed and closed my eyes. The kind of work I wanted to do with her was better done in my bed, but this probably wasn’t the time to say it. I nodded, and she patted my shoulder. I watched her pick up sheet music from the floor, making her way slowly across the room.
Okay, maybe it was a bit of a mess.
“As long as you understand that nothing in here gets thrown out.” She turned, and I glared at her. “This is still my space, and I don’t want you fucking with my shit.”
She snorted. “I wouldn’t dare,” she said, folding her arms. It emphasised the shape of her breasts, and I realised that I hadn’t seen them yet. I’d have to fix that little oversight, and soon. My cock thought it was a fabulous idea, and I couldn’t have agreed more.
Charlotte was still talking, but I really wasn’t paying much attention. Her tits were way more interesting than whatever it was she saying. I’d just jacked off to the thought of her mouth on me, but I was already thinking about going back upstairs and doing it again. Maybe I’d invite her to join me.
“And stop staring at my breasts!”
I looked up at her and grinned wickedly. Despite having a stubborn, OCD-enabled neat freak running around my house, this might actually be fun.