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  “I’m coming, Trey,” she starts to yell. Her orgasm hits her like a hurricane and her whole body convulses.

  Her pussy clenches tight around me and I feel like fireworks are exploding in my head. Long, hot spurts of my cum empty into her greedy pussy, which sucks up every drop. As I finish with the last few strokes, I milk the last of her climax. We both scream and collapse together in a hot messy heap.

  Epilogue

  When we told Kimberly, she didn’t take it well at first. She stormed back to college as soon as possible and didn’t talk to me for a week. But eventually, she was happy to have her best friend back and to see her dad happy. Reagan, of course, patted me on the back and called me a sneaky bastard but he was very happy for us. Kara is now enrolled in the local community college to study nursing. Of course, she lives with me.

  I enjoy our nightly trysts very much. Kara is like a drug that I cannot quit. I just can’t get enough of her and I would take her nightly. Soon, we would need to tell Kimberly that she is expecting a little brother or sister. I am more than thrilled. Stroking Kara’s growing round belly, I have never been happier.

  Delicious

  Chapter 1

  “You can’t do this to me.” I grind my teeth and slam my fists on the boardroom table. “I made this company.”

  Rebecca purses her dark red lips and sings in her siren voice. “And that is why you couldn’t keep up with the times.” She snaps her red talon fingers and two security guards appear. “Please escort Mr. Harrison out of the building. And make sure-” She pauses and chuckles. “He doesn’t steal anything.”

  I want to choke that elegant alabaster neck of hers like I did in bed last night. But instead of choking her to excite sexual pleasure like I did last night, I want to rip her scheming head off. I have taught her everything and I can’t believe that I fell for the oldest trick in the book-- blackmail. I look around the room, at the board sitting around the table. The board I have personally built, men and women whom I have trusted and helped over the years.

  A few people shift uncomfortably under my unwavering gaze. I don’t know what she has on them, but I know that she has blackmailed them into ousting me as the CEO and chairman of my own company and then putting her in my place. I grind my teeth and hiss, “I’ll be back.”

  ◆◆◆

  “Brandon, I don’t care what you say.” My sister, Lane, sets down a sandwich with a cookie in front of me. “I think this is good for you. That job was killing you. You need a break.”

  My sister is wonderful and intelligent about many things, but she knows nothing about business. She and her lawyer husband live in a comfortable house in the suburbs with their two young children. Over the years, I have fewer and fewer things in common with her. I ruffle the hair of my older nephew and sigh. “It’s not the money or the position. It’s the principle of the thing. I created the company, and they treated me like trash.”

  Lane shakes her hand and sets down a plate of veggies in front of her son. “You’ve made your money. I think it’s about time that you enjoy it. Get some rest. Have some fun. Go see the world. Meet a girl for a change. You’re in your forties already. Time to settle down.”

  I roll my eyes and bite into my sandwich. The little boy stares at me with puppy dog eyes. I shake my head at first. After seeing that his mother is too busy with the baby to notice, I slip him my cookie. The little boy grins and his two little dimples deepen. He wolfs down the cookie before his mother would see it.

  “What about that girl you brought here for Christmas last year?” Lane wipes the apple sauce off the baby’s face. “Becky? Rebecca? What is she up to?”

  “Rebecca,” I answer drily. “She’s the one the board appointed as my replacement.”

  Lane covers her forehead with her hand. “Brandon, you really know how to pick them, don’t you?” She sits down beside me. “I think you need to meet someone outside of work. For example, normal people who aren’t back-stabbing, stiletto-wearing bitches.”

  I give a hollow laugh. “I know you never liked her, but I doubt there are people like that left in the world. I think if given the opportunity, anyone would be a gold-digger and a back-stabber.”

  The baby whimpers and Lane picks her up to soothe her. “Don’t be so cynical. There are plenty of great people out there. You’ll meet a nice and normal woman someday. You know, when I first met Edward, I thought he was a jerk, too.” I immediately tune her out when she starts to recount the well-known story of how she met her husband. About how she met him at the law firm they both worked at, and how over time, she discovered that under that hardened exterior, he was quite the sweetheart.

  I finish my sandwich and thank Lane for lunch. Before I leave, I invite her and the family to a Fourth of July BBQ next month. Then I hop into my Tesla Model S and speed through the vast California highway back to my house in the mountains. It is during the middle of the week so the lanes are empty. Traffic jams are only for people who have jobs. I slam down on the pedal and the silent electric engine whirls up, as I fly over the smooth, open roads.

  “Mr. Harrison,” my gardener, Miguel, greets me at the front gate. He wipes the sweat off his brown brows and smiles. He keeps the vast acres of my estate beautiful and lush, and I pay him handsomely for it. “Maria called,” he says, “she’s had an accident.”

  Maria has been my housekeeper for the past ten years. She has taken good care of me and has never taken a sick day. My jaw tenses. “What happened?”

  Miguel nods fervently. “She is okay. She is at the hospital. But she broke her arm.” His brown eyes search my face for a reaction.

  I take a deep breath and tap impatiently on my phone.

  Miguel’s hands tighten over the handle of the shovel he is holding. “She feels terrible, but she won’t be able to work for three weeks. The doctor says. She’s got a cast, and she feels so bad. Maria knows that you have been stressed about work lately and she says she’ll be back as soon as possible.” Miguel stumbles over his words and continues to sweat.

  I shake my head and put up a hand. “It’s okay. Tell her to relax and take care of herself. I will pay her for the time off. Tell her that her job will be here waiting for her when she gets back, but I’ll need a doctor’s note stating that she is one hundred and ten percent okay to work.” I show Miguel the email message I have sent from my phone to my assistant, who will send out Maria weekly checks and hire a temporary replacement.

  Miguel grins from ear to ear. “Yes, sir. I’ll let her know. Thank you, sir.”

  I laugh at him. “Why are you thanking me? I’m not paying you.”

  “You’re a good boss, sir.” The man laughs and wipes his forehead with the back of his sleeve. “It makes me happy.”

  ◆◆◆

  My head hurts. The sun is too bright in my bedroom. I stumble out of bed and make my way straight for the kitchen. I check the fridge and groan when I find it to be empty except for a carton of eggs. I pour a glass of water from the faucet and gulp it down.

  “Brandon,” a sexy Eastern European voice exclaims, “come back to bed.” A leggy statuesque blonde saunters into the kitchen in a silk robe and beckons me with her bedroom eyes.

  “Oh hey,” I rake my brains for her name. I only remember bits and pieces from Charlie’s party last night. My head still hurts. “Sorry, babe. My housekeeper is out sick. There isn’t anything in the house.” I hope that the lack of refreshments will force her to leave as soon as possible.

  “Wanna take me out for lunch?” She hugs me from behind. The clutch of her hands on my arms makes my stomach tighten. Last night is a total blur. I remember going to Charlie’s party and meeting some of his lame friends. Then later I have distinct memories of her long tan legs wrapped tightly around my waist and her fake orgasm cries. For a billionaire like me, women like her are a dime a dozen. There is always some gold-digger ready to pounce right around the corner. I have fun with them but I never take them too seriously. I dismiss Lane’s words about meeting a “nic
e and normal woman.” That will never happen.

  “Uh, sorry. I have a meeting today.” I continue to gulp water.

  “Meeting? Today is Sunday.” She stares at me with her icy blue eyes over her high cheekbones. A woman’s wrath is a terrifying thing.

  I scratch my head. “Yeah, I need to find a replacement for my housekeeper. I’m interviewing candidates today.” It’s not a total lie. The agency is sending someone here this afternoon but I’m hoping what’s-her-name will leave right now.

  “Oh, okay.” The botoxed muscles on her face relax a little and she smiles. She places her hands on my chest and pecks my lips. “Call me later, okay?”

  I am relieved when I slam the door behind her. I rub my face and finish my water, hoping the hangover will go away soon.

  Chapter 2

  The doorbell rings loudly during my nap and I almost fall off the couch. Oh right, the interview. I sigh and walk to the front door.

  “Hi, Mr. Harrison?” A crisp female voice says. “My name is Rose Gardner. I was sent by the temp agency. I’m here for the interview. Nice to meet you.” She speaks in a clipped, efficient manner.

  I look down at a petite woman with dark brown curls. She smiles up at me with a deep dimple on each freckled cheek. I shake her outstretched hand. It is warm and calloused in places. She shakes my hand back firmly. She is in her early twenties, dressed appropriately in an off-the-rack pantsuit and holding a cheap pleather bag. Rebecca is gorgeous and the Russian model from this morning is stunning. This little woman, well, is pretty at best. She has a round, freckled face framed by shiny dark curls. Her button nose rests comfortably on top of thick smiling lips. She is short with full curves that she hides under that suit, and I’m sure, not used to showing off. Yet I instantly feel nervous looking into her warm brown eyes.

  I escort her to the dining room table. She sits down and pulls out a resume printed on high-quality paper. Her hands are folded together as she patiently waits for me to finish skimming her resume.

  “Top of your class at the Cordon bleu? Winner of top pastry dish from housekeeping magazine? Line cook at a Michelin-star restaurant in New York?” I glance up at the reliable young woman in front of me. “Why do you want this job?” She is very young but already on track with her culinary career. Why does she want to move across the country to buy paper towels for me for a living?

  She gives me a big smile and speaks cheerfully. Her dark curls bounce with every syllable. “I need a location change and the flexibility of this job suits my current personal needs.” The housekeeper’s job is only three days a week. “I understand that this is a temporary position but I am a fast learner and a hard worker.”

  She is innocent and sweet and I like her cheerful attitude. Instinctively, I know that she is nothing like the other women in my life. Most importantly, she is too young for me.

  I clear my throat and thank her for her time.

  She asks confidently. “Can I show you something?”

  “What?”

  “May I use your kitchen?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “This is a job interview, no?” She removes her blazer. “I will cook you a dish to show you what you will get for your money.”

  ◆◆◆

  I stand with my arms folded across my chest and my foot tapping impatiently. Maria has been out for days and there hasn’t been any food left in the house. Rose scours the pantry and the fridge. She seems delighted when she finds some eggs, a bag of flour, and some frozen veggies in a bag.

  “Please give me an hour or so, Mr. Harrison.” She rolls up her sleeve and starts to mix the flour.

  I scratch my head and shrug my shoulders. Well, I haven’t eaten anything all day and I could use a hot meal. What can she cook up with the random leftover ingredients left in the house is beyond me. I sit down at the dining table with a clear view of the kitchen and catch up on my emails.

  Before I know it, a warm, inviting smell wafts over from the kitchen. My mouth waters and I swallow. I try to focus on my phone for a few more minutes until I put it down. I look up and watch the petite figure working diligently. Her dark curls bouncing around.

  Rose is busy pulling a pie pan out of the oven. Her sleeves are still rolled up and there is a smudge of flour on her round pink cheeks. I wonder if her cheeks are as sweet and soft as they look.

  She smiles as she greets me. “Mr. Harrison. Food is ready.”

  She cuts a slice from the quiche she made and places it on the empty plate in front of me. I take the fork she offered and grab a forkful. The fluffy egg jiggles as I deliver it to my mouth. The quiche is flavorful and the crust practically melts in my mouth. It is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted, and this woman whips it up out of thin air. I wolf down the entire slice.

  “More?” Rose smiles. “Do you like it?”

  I hold out my empty plate for seconds. “It’s delicious.”

  She seems pleased with herself and her cheeks are light pink and flushed. I stare at her for a moment too long before I take the second piece from her hands.

  After wolfing down the second piece, I straighten up and interrogate her. “What is your salary range? How soon can you start?” The first rule of negotiation is to keep your cards close to your chest. I am annoyed with myself for showing my hand too soon. But I like her a lot, and I’m willing to pay for it.

  “I am happy with the range the temp agency has set and I can start as soon as tomorrow,” Rose says brightly.

  I furrow my brow. I don’t know how much line cooks get paid in Manhattan but it is definitely more than what the temp agency is asking for. Maybe she doesn’t care about the pay right now because it is only short term. “Okay.” I shrug my shoulders. “Be here tomorrow.” I have better use of my time than interviewing an endless stream of candidates. She is as good as any, I reason.

  “Thank you so much!” Rose smiles brightly and shakes my hand enthusiastically as she leaves. “I look forward to working for you.”

  I watch as she gets into her Honda and drives off. She may not be the most beautiful woman I know, but she’s sure got a nice behind.

  Chapter 3

  “Good morning, Mr. Harrison.” Rose greets me brightly as I emerge out of my bedroom. There is no unexpected bedfellow next to me this time, thankfully. I need a break from women, especially “back-stabbing, stiletto-wearing bitches” as my sister puts it.

  Rose is wearing a crisp white dress shirt that fits around her curves. Her gray pencil skirt hugs her full behind, and she is wearing a pair of sensible black pumps.

  “You look, uh, nice.” I enjoy looking at her full curves. A part of my anatomy starts to raise its naughty head. I sit down quickly before she can discover what’s going on inside my PJ pants.

  Rose clears her throat and blushes slightly. Her freckled face turns the cutest shade of pink. She is so sweet and innocent, like a lady who runs a bakery and makes cupcakes for a living. In fact, she reminds me of a cupcake. One that looks prim and proper behind the glass at the shop, but just wait until you take her home and find out how delicious she is.

  As soon as I sit down at the breakfast table, she emerges with a basket of freshly baked scones and coffee. I check the time. It’s six in the morning, my usual wake up time when I still had a job. I am not a morning person but old habits are hard to break. I pick up one scone with my bare fingers. It is soft and buttery. Fresh out of the oven.

  “When did you get here?” I croak in my deep morning voice.

  “Oh, not that long ago.” She pushes a small notepad in front of me. Her small hand is unadorned with any jewelry or nail polish. “This is the menu for all of your meals this week. Please make any changes and I’ll head to the grocery store later this morning.”

  I sip my coffee as I give the list a cursory glance. “Looks fine.” I push it back to her. Her hand accidentally grazes against mine as she reaches for the notebook. She withdraws her hand quickly and turns pink again. I smile to myself. This is getting interestin
g.

  She clears her throat. “Are you sure? I wrote down some additional options if you don’t like what I’m planning.”

  “Everything looks fine,” I snap. “I’m not a picky eater.” I take a big bite of the scone. Blueberry. “Just make sure the pool cleaners can get in through the gate this afternoon and pick up my tux from the cleaners.”

  “Already done.” Rose beams as she gestures toward the black garment bag hanging in the living room. I watch her dark curls bounce as she turns her head.

  I nod approvingly and she blushes even more. This is definitely getting interesting.

  ◆◆◆

  After breakfast, I change into my swimming trunks. The pool cleaners will drain the pool and clean out all the equipment. It will take them all afternoon, so I better get my laps in this morning.

  Rose comes out with a tray with a pitcher and glasses on it.

  “Here is some fresh lemonade.” She sets the tray down on a table.

  “Thanks,” I stare at her as she carefully sets down the glasses. Her hair falls to the side, and she brushes a strand behind her ear with her hand. I badly want to pull her into the water with me, so I can feel her panicked arms around me. I shake my head. What is wrong with me?

  “Rose,” I call out before she heads back into the house. “Can you hand me a towel?” There is a stack of clean towels resting on a rack three feet away from the pool.

  Rose raises her brows, but she grabs one and holds it out to me.

  Swiftly, I push myself out of the pool with both arms. Splashes of water roll off my muscular arms and chest. With the agility that would make a man half my age proud, I hop in front of Rose. She barely reaches my shoulders in height and she is now staring directly at my bare chest. I am now only inches from her and beads of water roll off my naked body. She turns bright red. Before I can get closer or say anything, she pushes the wad of towels into my hands and steps back quickly.