At the end of my third week of working at Brideau Corporation, I feel like I’ve been there for three years. Granted, it doesn’t help that I take some work files home, but the mental stress does me in more than anything else. I want nothing more than to take a nice, hot bath and order in.

I peruse my options from the menu drawer. A pizza sounds too big to finish on my own, but maybe I can talk Riley into coming over to share it with me. Although with the way she’s been with her diet, I can’t be sure.

“Pizza? Let’s just order a large and put our feet up. What do you think?”

Riley is tempted. I hear her hesitate before she refuses. “No, you go ahead. I can’t make it for dinner. I could cancel on this second date I have with this guy, but it’ll make it the second time I’ve had to do that, and I actually kind of like him.”

“Oh, a date is far more important!” I agree. “How come I’m just hearing about this mystery man?”

“It’s a long story. I’m afraid of ruining everything by talking about it.” Riley is uncharacteristically quiet about her love life for the first time.

“But expect me later. I’m going to come by with dessert,” she vows. “We can watch a movie too. How about that?”

“That depends on if you get lucky and if I can stay awake,” I joke. “Okay, I’ll see you in a few hours, then.” I hang up with her and look back at the pizza flyer. I doubt I’ll see Riley tonight if she has a date. There’s no way I can eat a pizza by myself. Under the bottom of the pile, I spy a Chinese take-out menu promising free spring rolls, and I’m sold. One look at my phone battery tells me that I’d better order quickly.

Ten minutes later, my order is placed and is promised to arrive within an hour. It seems like a long time, but I know the time will pass quickly with the hot bubble bath ready to welcome me. A few minutes later, I place the dead phone to charge and pad over to the bathroom.

The rosewater fragrance wafts out and teases my senses as I undress. I sigh when the bubbles come to greet me. The water bobs around me, lapping at my skin. The smell is heavenly, and I wonder if I’ll be awake by the time the delivery comes.

Willing myself to stop thinking about work, I try to focus on anything else. Unfortunately, since work has consumed me for the better part of the month, it’s hard to think about anything else. Except for Maxwell. I really should go on one of these dates that Riley’s always trying to arrange for me. If nothing else, it will help me break out of the vacuum I’m living in.

After several more minutes of trying to name as many flowers as I can, I give up and let my mind wander where it will. Tomorrow I have a free day, so I can sit down and look at some of the files during breakfast. Then I’ll have the rest of the weekend to pamper myself some more. I find myself wishing that Bella could come to a spa with me. I smile, imagining our snooty counterparts getting a mani and a pedi.

My eyes drift closed, and I picture Maxwell coming in to join me. I don’t question why he’s there; it just seems inevitable. I’ve been keeping all thoughts of him at bay at work, and I want to indulge for once. The more I think about how protective he is of his daughter, the more respect I have for him. But that’s not what has me thinking about him now. It’s the masculine energy that he has, the way he assumes control of a room just by entering it. The way his muscles bunch under his fitted shirt with a faint sprinkle of chest hair visible under his shirt when he removes his tie. I imagine him sliding into the water and moving over me. Our lips touch and his hands glide over my body. One of my hands slips down between my legs, and I allow my fingers to explore. The tension is building quickly, and I feel myself coming toward a release.

I’m so lost in my fantasy that I almost don’t hear the doorbell ring. But it chimes again, and I sit up with a start. I reach for my phone and remember it’s still on charge. Riley must have decided to stand up the guy, after all, I think to myself, a little annoyed at the interruption. Throwing on a fluffy robe, I slip my feet into slippers and try to compose myself before going to answer the door. Since Riley found out what I’d said about being a virgin, she hasn’t let me forget it. And since then I’ve been obsessing over a part of me that lay dormant for years. Or as Riley deems it, “making up for lost time.”

Starting to form a joke about the irony that she’s been trying to set me up on a date for years unsuccessfully while standing up men unapologetically, I throw open the door and freeze.

It’s not Riley. It’s Maxwell. It’s as if he sensed my thoughts and came running.

“Hi...Maxwell.” My lips are moving, but I don’t know if the words that will come out are going to be appropriate. Hi, I was just thinking about you while I was in the bathtub.

He looks surprised himself, and it takes me a second to figure out why. I’m in a gaping bathrobe and slippers. So much for maintaining professionalism. But he came to my house unannounced; what did he expect?

“Hi, Laura. I’m sorry to bother you like this. May I come in?”

It’s not like I can say no, even if I’m not properly clothed. “Sure, just give me a minute, and I’ll go get dressed,” I say. Why do I have to sound so breathless?

I escape to my closet and shut the door securely. Without thinking, I throw on an old t-shirt and shorts and emerge. Belatedly, it dawns on me that I forgot to put on a bra. So now my nipples are poking out through my clingy shirt. Perfect.

“What brings you here?” I can’t hide my curiosity any longer. I didn’t realize the CEO was so involved that he made house calls.

“I’m so sorry. I tried to call you but your phone was going to voicemail. Anyway, I think Sam gave you a file that was intended for me. Do you mind taking a look to see if you have it here? If it’s at the office, I would need you to retrieve it because it’s urgent.”

My heart sinks at the logical explanation. I don’t know what I’m hoping to hear, but I know it’s not that.

“Sure, have a seat. I’ll go get my tote.” I keep talking to fill the silence. “It’s my fault, too. I should have looked at the files before I left. I usually do, but you know, it’s Friday, so I was in a rush.” We haven’t really spoken to each other about anything except Bella since last week. I don’t know if he was avoiding me, or I was successfully avoiding him. Probably both.

I produce my files and watch him sort through them. He’s wearing another button-up and simple but expensive jeans, and the energy he exudes is still of a man in power. It thrills me, and I find myself growing warm again, my mind still preoccupied with my bath activity.

“Ah, here it is.” Maxwell examines the contents of the folder and nods at me. “Thanks. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost this.”

The doorbell rings, startling us both. “Oh, it must be the food,” I tell him as if he was actually with me earlier and knows that I ordered food. I pay the delivery guy and shut the door.

“I’m sorry to disturb your evening. I’ll get out of your way.” Maxwell moves in front of me, sandwiching me between the door and himself. I know I should move, but I don’t want him to leave just yet.

“Please, join me. Chinese from this place is excellent.” The words are out, and I can’t take them back. I hope I don’t sound like I’m throwing myself at him. It’s bad enough that the text was sent.

“Oh, I couldn’t.” Yet he doesn’t sound like he’s protesting too much.

“Please, it’s always too much for me, because they make you order a certain amount just for delivery. You’d be doing me a favor,” I tell him with a smile.

He shifts from one foot to the other and nods. “Sure, I haven’t had dinner yet. Thank you.” He takes the bags from me, and we move into the dining room. I find his slight nervousness endearing. For a man who is always in charge and never lets his guard down, he seems to have a hidden soft side.

“Actually, I did have some other opportunities I wanted to discuss with you. I’ve seen your background—your resume. I know you don’t have a lot in terms of experience, but I have no doubt you’ll have ample time to work on that.”

He continues to talk while I go into the kitchen to get some plates and silverware. I would just eat out of the containers, but I figure there are some boundaries I should keep.

“So, what I want to know is, what are your long-term goals? Short-term, I assume you want to move toward a point where you will have more options available to you, even if that means doing things that aren’t related to your area of expertise.”

“Well, I assume that with the natural progression of things, I’ll end up there in a few years. I don’t plan on staying a temp forever. I have some debt that I would like to take care of before I move into a lower-paying position in my field.”

“I’d say you’re more than a temp now,” Maxwell says, stabbing a pair of chopsticks in my direction. “You can move up slowly on that path if you choose. But I think you should know that ‘a few years’ isn’t as accurate as you may think. It might be at least a decade before you can move into your field of study, and by then, you’ll have so much experience outside of your field that it will seem more foreign to you.”

I hate that he has a point. Best case scenario, I think I can manage to save enough to barely scrape by, but it won’t leave any room for error. “What do you have to offer, then?” I ask. It doesn’t hurt to know my options.

He sets down his plate and draws closer. “If I told you that you could have your debt paid off in a year, would you consider my offer?”

A year? I’m excited by that prospect, but I’m sure there’s more to it. “Doing what?”

He leans back and eyes me carefully. “More of the same.”

“So, what’s the catch?” I ask.

He begins to pace the length of the room. “When we were younger, Sam and I moved around a lot. We were what they used to call ‘military brats.’ Anyway, it was difficult because there was no stability. We had our parents but, well, they had their issues too. I left home early, and that’s when I first tasted real permanence.

“I like roots, and I rushed into a marriage thinking she liked roots too. Clearly, that didn’t end well. Anyway, I want to offer Bella that safety and stability. Yes, we have a wonderful home, and we’re not moving anywhere. But with one nanny after another, she’s seen nothing but instability.”

He breaks off, and I don’t know if I should interrupt and ask what he was about to say, or remain quiet until he gathers his thoughts. He is staring out of the window now, and I wonder if he’s done with his story. I have so many questions, but without knowing what his offer or motivations are, I’m afraid of asking.

“I have a lot of business trips coming up, and it will keep me away from home for some time. I will need to take Bella with me, and I’d like it if you could come, too. You’ll be doing what you do now, with Sam providing you work that you can do, but you would be watching Bella full-time.”

The opportunity sounds exciting, and watching over Bella doesn’t seem like a chore to me. I mull over his words, and he begins to clear the table. I follow him, deep in thought. It would give me a chance to travel and work at the same time—and pay off my debt quickly. It sounds too good to be true.

Maxwell begins to list a few of the countries we’ll be going to if I accept the offer. “Some of those are major fashion and textile hubs, and I have a lot of contacts that will meet with you as a courtesy to me if you’re interested.”

I want to pay attention to what he’s saying but I can’t help watching the suds clinging to his hands as he washes the plates. It reminds me too much of the tub fantasy earlier, and I feel myself get wet thinking about it. I never realized before how small my kitchen actually is, and I want nothing more than to step out of it and take deep gulps of air.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” I mumble. I am standing behind him now. His butt looks so firm that I want to reach out and squeeze it to make sure. Moving to his left side, I deposit one cup into the sink. I am careful not to touch him because he will know immediately that I’m not wearing a bra.

He turns off the sink at that moment and wipes his hand on a towel before turning and bumping into me. “Oh!” he exclaims. He’s staring at my chest, and my legs are frozen. We both look down, and I see a smear of sweet and sour sauce on my shirt. Oh. He isn’t staring at my chest. Another disappointment.

“Sorry, that towel must have had sauce on it. Let me wipe it for you.” Before I can protest, he wets a clean corner of the towel and proceeds to dab at the stain. We’ve switched places somehow, and my back is digging into the sink. I’m trying hard to move away from him, because he’s wetting my shirt, and soon, will see the whole outline of my breast.

It’s too late for modesty now. The wetness spreads, and cool air hits my breasts, causing them both to stand at attention again. My breathing is rapid.

I know he knows how much I want him. I look up to see his jaw clenched. The towel in his hand is paused in mid-air, as if unsure of what its next move is. Wet the other breast too, maybe.

For a moment, neither of us moves. I almost feel like we’re back in the bar where I first saw him. But this is much more intimate. I can feel an intense heat radiating from his body. I wonder if the wetness in my shorts is betraying me as well.

He bends ever so slightly over me, and it’s all the invitation I need. I raise up to my toes the rest of the way, and he crushes his lips down on mine. I wind my arms around his neck and feel one of his hands cup the back of my neck. The other is pulling my lower body flush against his. I feel his hardness, and I moan as all my nerve endings feel like they’re being plucked at once. I don’t know how much time has passed before both of us come up for air.

I see him trying to regain control of the situation, and I won’t have it. I try to pull him back down for another round, but he resists. “Wait,” he rasps. “I can’t go much further than this. I can’t take advantage of you.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” I tell him.

“You’re a virgin,” he says flatly. He’s looking me in the eye, daring me to respond. So he did get that message. I don’t know what he means by pointing it out. Does that mean he doesn’t want someone inexperienced?

“I know,” I say. “But I’m okay with it. I want this.”

I see him fighting with himself, but I let him make the decision. I’m rewarded as he is scooping me up and heading to my bedroom. He drops me gently on the bed and starts removing his clothes. This is actually happening. Trying to keep up, I start removing my clothes as well. We’re both down to our underwear now, my breasts delighting in their newfound freedom, enjoying the attention Maxwell is lavishing on them. He laps at one and nips the sides gently before moving to the other with an exaggerated slowness.

I’m impatient and tug at his form-fitted boxers.

“Wait.” He stills my hand. “You’re not going to be ready for that yet. Let me prepare you first.”

“Prepare me? Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”

He doesn’t answer. I don’t know what it means, but I try to concentrate on the incredible feeling of his tongue swirling around one breast and then the other, continuing to nip and tease as he goes. I close my eyes and run my fingers through his hair, tousling the straight combed locks. I feel him moving away from me, and I look down in time to see his descent on my exposed privates. He tore away the underwear without me knowing, and I don’t know or care where they landed.

One of his hands snakes back up to tease my breasts while his tongue licks and nips at my core. His tongue is velvety against my wetness, and I feel a little embarrassed because I’m so wet down there. I squirm and moan when he continues his assault with more passion. Suddenly, I feel a fullness that wasn’t there before, and my eyes pop open to see the fingers of his other hand pushing into me. It’s unbearable now, and my hips begin to thrust into his fingers impatiently. When he bites lightly on the sensitive nub, I lose it. Waves of pleasure blind me, and I can’t see or think straight.

“Please, please, Maxwell,” I whimper. I don’t even know what I’m begging for at this point.

“Please what?” he prods.

“I need you,” I whisper. I feel so empty without him inside me, and my body is craving him. Even though I’ve never been with someone that way before, I know what I’m longing for. “Please,” I say again.

He’s already shucking the last scrap of cloth that’s between us and positioning himself at my entrance, but he’s not moving fast enough for me.

“Maxwell.” I squeeze his biceps and raise my hips up to feel his cock pressing against me. The tip of it teases me where he’d bit me moments ago, and I moan louder. The only evidence that Maxwell is as affected as me is how hard he is. I want to make him lose his control, the way he’s made me lose mine, but I can’t right now. I can’t think past my own needs.

He teases me more by rubbing the head up and down against my slit until my head is tossing from side to side.

“Max…” I can’t form sentences anymore.

“You want this?” he asks as if I hadn’t already begged him for it.

“Yes, please. I need you.” I have no shame anymore. I’ll do anything to have him inside me now. I reach down and hold his throbbing manhood. It’s massive in my hands, I wonder how something so large will fit inside me. Even with his two fingers stretching me earlier, I felt so full. But my body is aching, and I can’t deny myself anymore.

“Wait, we have to go slow,” he cautions me, but I don’t want to hear it.

“No, just do it. I’m begging you.” I position him and thrust up slightly.

I see him squeeze his eyes shut. His hands are on my thighs. He pushes them further apart and nestles himself between them. Somehow, he’s made a good fit even better now.

“It won’t hurt for long,” he says just before he thrusts into me. I feel a sharp pain, and he holds himself still. I don’t want to look down, but I do anyway. I feel so stretched but he hasn’t pushed even half of himself inside.

“Are you okay?” He brushes some hair off my forehead, and I nod. I’m afraid that if I try to talk, I’m going to cry about the pain, so I hold it all in. He moves back and forth gently. I want to tell him to stop because the pain is too great, but within moments, the friction starts to feel good. Soon, I find myself drawing my legs up to allow him more access. He takes it, burying the rest of his length inside me. I feel so full but I can’t get close enough. My legs wrap around him, and my hips raise up to meet him thrust for thrust.

It doesn’t take long before I experience the same explosion as earlier, but this time, I feel his body get rigid, just before he has his own release.

It’s a long time later after he rolls off me that I listen to his quiet snores. Before he fell asleep, he helped me get cleaned up, and this small gesture touched me in a way that his words could never have done. I slipped on my T-shirt and my underwear that were discarded on the floor. When I looked up, he was already in his boxers.

“Stay,” I said suddenly. I didn’t want him to go after what we shared. I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t think it was going to make me feel like my soul was intertwined with his. He must have seen the raw emotions playing out on my face because he didn’t argue.