Yes, Mr. Van Der Wells (Not Another Billionaire Romance) (14 page)

His stare is his answer, a slight curve to his lips.

“Well,” I go on, “for
future
reference—obviously because that won’t be happening with me—it helps if you don’t make a habit of watching her with your ‘non-boardroom’ stare while you’re half-dressed.”

This has him tipping his head to the side, an “
aha
” gleam in his eyes. He appears to waver on something, before striding toward me. Right up to me, so his chest is in my face.

Oh, sweet marmalade.

‘Lick it! Lick it!’
Reckless Lotty urges me. ‘
Press your palms to his pecs and licccckkk. Hmmm
.’

‘Turn around and walk away or step back to allow space
,’ Rational Lotty voice advises. ‘
Nothing good can come of this
.
Stay. Focused.’

Because I’m still in vex mode with Reckless Lotty, I take Rational Lotty’s advice and step back two feet, if only to
breathe
.

“So, that’s it then,” he murmurs, eyes twinkling with mischief.

I’m confused. “Huh?”

“What makes you nervous,” he clarifies.

Taking another step back, I forbid my cheeks to flush, needing more air. Yes.
Yes
. His
goddamn
chest does make me nervous when he has it right in my
goddamn
face and smirking down his
goddamn
nose at me, and I can feel the heat of his body and smell the fading scent of him—the same entrancing, ineffable scent from his closet.

But I’ll never admit that. Nope. Nopety nope. 

Smiling sweetly, I ask, “Can you kindly get your chest out of my face, please?”

“Why?” he shoots back in a mocking voice. “Does it make you
nervous
?”

“Nope.” I make a face, hoping it lands somewhere between a smirk and revulsion. A revolted smirk. Ha! “It’s just a little too pubescent for my tastes.”

Noah bursts out laughing, knowing, of course, that I’m full of shit.

When he catches a breath, he actually voices, “You’re so full of shit,” then brushes past me as I did to him minutes ago, sending a jolt of paralyzing heat through me again. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,
Charlotte
. If you need me, I’ll be in my room.”

What does he mean ‘if I need him?’ No. No, I won’t be
needing
him. For anything. At all. Ever. Except for my paycheck, of course.

‘Who are you kidding
?’ Reckless Lotty taunts. ‘
You so ‘need’ him. How else do you explain the throbbing down south?’

‘
Ignore her,’
Rational Lotty advises.
‘She’s a slut. All she ever does is get us into trouble
.’

‘Hot, naughty, sexy trouble,’
Reckless Lotty counters sultrily.

Rational Lotty cocks her head and gives Reckless Lotty a pointed glare. ‘
And how exactly do you explain Andrew
?’

‘He was so sweeeet in the beginning, and not to mention sexy as sex
,’ Reckless Lotty defends. ‘
How could I have known the guy was woman-beating, philandering asshole
?’

‘Nuff said,’
mumbles Rational Lotty, closing the argument.

Reckless Lotty huffs.

Turning, I scowl at Noah’s retreating back. “I
won’t
be needing you. For any reason whatsoever. And if
you
happen to need me,
Mr. Van Der Wells
, my door will be locked, and my
domestic
services
will not be available until six. So if you accidentally knot yourself too tight to the bedpost, or mistake glue for lubricant during your bedtime masturbation a la
American Pie
, you are on your own until then.
Six AM
.”

To this, Noah laughs. All the way up the stairs.

S
EVEN

I
N THE NEXT
two weeks that follow, I’m left with plenty of time to plan my great escape, check into my classes
on time
, never missing a lecture, and even more time to twiddle my thumbs.

By 8 AM, I have breakfast prepared, dinner by 6:30 PM. I clean up after a messy Noah, do his laundry, take his expensive suits to the dry-cleaners on the ground floor, and…that’s about it. My job is pretty darn easy.

As for the man himself: sometimes he’s talkative, jovial, and purposely pushes my buttons to get a rise out of me, and other times he’ll come home in brood mode and murders me with silence and stare-downs. I’m used to his mercurial disposition by now, though. Knowing when to leave him be. 

Today is Saturday, and my to-do list is blank. Noah normally works from home on Saturdays and doesn’t require me getting up at dawn, but today he’s traveling to California on a two-day business trip, so I’m up at the usual time preparing breakfast while he’s out running.

On a side note, I eventually filled Kiera in on my new job and living arrangements but have held back on the truth about Andrew. That bit is something she needs to hear in person, considering she’s held Andrew in such high regard all this time.

To ascertain I’m truly as okay as I claim to be, she’s been pressing to see me, but I’ve been stalling for two reasons: one, under no circumstances, never, not ever, am I leaving this apartment unless it’s straight to the airport. Two, I’m
embarrassed
. To face my best friend and spill about my ugly relationship with Andrew is not exactly something I’m bouncing on my heels to do. But like ripping off a Band-Aid, it’s better to just do it and get it over with.

Noah isn’t aware of this—
yet
—but when he leaves the Amex for me to go grocery shopping, I order those babies in.

I know Andrew, so I
know
he’s scouring the place in search of me. Maybe one day he’ll give up, but that day is not anytime this week, month, or year. Leaving this haven is a massive risk I’m just not taking.

Now that Noah will be absent for a bit, I’m thinking of asking him if I’m allowed to have a friend over for a visit, knowing how strict some people are about their living space.

I’m in the kitchen pouring myself a cup of coffee when the elevator pings. Seconds later, Noah strolls in, all sweat and bare-chest and muscles and abs.

My hearts sighs.

‘Oh, sweet mozzarella,’
Reckless Lotty moans.

‘Okay, even I have to admit
,’ Rational Lotty begrudgingly mutters, ‘
that man is scrumptious to the Nth degree.’

Oh dear, it’s never a good sign when Reckless Lotty and Rational Lotty both agree on something.

I watch Noah’s chest get closer. Can’t help it, but I’m never able to focus on anything else when he’s shirtless.

This, this is my utmost favorite part of the day. The mornings. When the boss returns from running. I
wake up
for this. To hear the ping of the elevator and know what comes next around the bend. A body, and a face, I want to lick every last drop of sweat from.

It’s getting harder and harder for me, as time passes, to look him in the eye and stab him with smart-ass remarks. Why? Because as much as I shouldn’t, I
want
him. Want to open my legs and invite him between them. Want to feel his weight press down on top of me. Want to feel that stare fixed on me while he moves inside me…Dear God,
I want him
.

And I
shouldn’t
. Not just because I’m still on the run from another hot, sexy monster, but also because he’s my boss, and I can’t afford to have him sleep with me and then dismiss me like all my predecessors.

But
sweet rosary chain clutched in a Catholic palm
, it’s getting more and more difficult to focus and be my mouthy self when he’s around.

Feeling hot liquid wet the top of my feet, I jump back and glance down.
Oh, crap, crappity crap
!

The mug is full and overflowing on the counter, running a sloppy path off the marble counter and onto my shoes.

“Dammit,” I curse, annoyed with myself. This isn’t me! I don’t do klutzy. See what I mean? No. Focus. So distracted was I by Noah’s chest that I didn’t even realize the cup was full.

Arrghh!

“Something on your mind?” Noah asks, voice dipped in amusement.

I glance up. His forearms are now braced on the counter, his breathing still a little uneven from his run. He watches me—of course—with a knowing gleam. He knows. He knows I want to jump him. And the bastard is reveling in it.

Setting the coffee pot down, I rip off some paper-towels and begin undoing my mess.

“Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” Lie. I slept like a baby with its thumb in its mouth and its butt in the air last night, so freaking comfortable is my bed with six pillows.

“So…had something on your mind last night?”

Yes.
Him
.

In fact, I touched myself thinking about his throat last night. And I came, hard. Which also contributed to my sleeping like a baby with its thumb in its mouth and its butt in the air.

‘Such a nasty little slut you are
,’ Reckless Lotty teases.

‘Oh, boy’
, Rational Lotty comments, sighing in resignation. ‘
Here we go again.’

“No,” I murmur to the counter as I sop up the mess. “New environment, you know? Not entirely acclimatized just yet.”

Noah’s lip twitches, and although he doesn’t voice it, I know he’s thinking it:
You are so full of shit
.

To get his attention off me, I stir up shit, “So, how’s Sienna? Haven’t seen her back here since her threat. What, she’s busy screwing her driver this time?”

Noah’s eyebrows push together. “Threat?”

“Yeah.” Tossing the paper towels in the trash, I pick up my coffee, pour some out in the sink, and use another paper towel to clean around the sides. “She says you’re hers, and that if I so much as
think
about sleeping with you, she’ll make my life a living hell.”

Amusement fleeing, the corners of his eyes tighten. “She
threatened
you?”

Uh-oh. Not quite liking the insane look he’s wearing now, I don’t answer. I meant only to stir up crap to get the attention off me, not complain. Not at all am I intimidated by Sienna and her empty threats because her making them to begin with proves
she
is intimidated by me. Noah, however, doesn’t appear to find Sienna’s threat to me amusing.

He grits through his teeth, “She doesn’t own me.”

Taking a sip of my coffee, I shrug. “Don’t care. It’s none of my business whether she does or doesn’t o—”

“
She doesn’t own me
,” he repeats with vehement emphasis, cutting me off, leaning further over the counter toward me, as if to make sure I get it. “Sienna is nothing
to me anymore but a warm convenience for my dick.”

Whoa. Okay. Um, who is this man? This asshole-ish, jaw-tightening, hard-eyes alphahole?  How many sides are there to him?

“Well,” I say cautiously, setting down my coffee, “maybe you should tell her that. Because, obviously, she’s on a whole different page than you are with this.”

“She can’t touch you,” he assures me.

“First off, I’m just your
housemaid
, nothing more, that you should feel the need to defend me,” I tell him. “Second, Sienna won’t have a reason to touch me because I don’t plan on sleeping with you anyway.”

His eyes go all warm and soft and tempting again. “You don’t?”

Caught off guard by the question, I suck in a surprised breath. My heart does a back-flip as something unfurls in my stomach. Annoyed at all the sensations coursing through me, I scowl at him. “No! God, no.”

Mischief swirling in his depths, his mouth turns down at the corners. “Shame.” He makes a tutting sound, then turns and strides off.

‘What the fudge
?’ Reckless Lotty carps. ‘
That’s it? He’s not gonna try harder
?’

‘Does a man even have to
try
with you
?’ Rational Lotty fires at her. ‘
You’re like a twenty-four hour joint:
Always
open.’

Reckless Lotty flips Rational Lotty the bird.

I ignore them both, distracted by the sheen of sweat between my cleavage, the sopping wetness between my thighs, and the throbbing ache of my nipples.

It’s been less than an hour since I showered, yet I feel a pressing need for one right now. Abandoning my coffee, I shoot off to the bathroom, strip down to nothing, and finger myself under a scorching hot shower for the second time that morning.

Noah’s eating his breakfast and sipping my abandoned coffee when I return from my “shower.” He’s looking like the picture of wealth in a gray V-neck sweater and black slacks, damp hair finger-groomed back from his face.

He scans me as I reenter the kitchen, while I raise an eyebrow at my coffee in his hand. “You showered again?”

My palms smooth down the front of my uniform. “Yep. Felt a little icky from the spilled coffee.”