CHERISHED (By the Alpha Billionaire #3) (3 page)
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Authors: Rossi St. James
FOUR
Maisie
“Hey,” I said as I called Sawyer a few nights later. We’d been having phone dates every night at the same time. I lay under the cold sheets of my bed. It was still hard getting used to sleeping alone, but it would only be temporary. Just a couple more months. “Did you have a nice flight?”
“Always,” he said. “Just getting settled at the hotel for the night. I fly home tomorrow. You have Wi-Fi?”
“Yes, why?”
“I want to see you before I go to sleep.”
A Face Time alert flashed on the screen of my phone, and I happily accepted. I wanted to see him too. It was dark where he was, but enough light filtered around him for me to see that he was still wearing his suit and tie get up. God, he was sexy as sin. I fluffed my hair and tilted my phone at a flattering angle, placing the best smoldering look I could muster on my tired face. “There. Happy now?”
“Not entirely,” he said. “I mean, your face is quite beautiful and all, but I’m really missing the rest of you right now.”
Heat flashed over me. I’d never done sexting or video sex or phone sex or anything of that nature. I was a bit old fashioned and maybe slightly naïve, save for sleeping with a stranger I met at a bar. I suppose the new me needed to be a little more adventurous and risk-taking anyway, especially if she were about to move across the country to be with this man in a couple months.
“Fine,” I sighed, the corners of my lips curling into a smile. I sat the phone down and slipped off my top, unhooking my bra after that. Grabbing the phone, I angled it down my body, giving him a good, long look at me as my free hand massaged a pert nipple.
“God,” he groaned, shoving his fist in his mouth. “I want you so bad right now. You have no idea.”
I giggled. “Okay, I have papers to grade, Sawyer, so I’m letting you go. Get a good night’s rest. I’ll be thinking of you tonight.”
I gave him a wink and ended the call. I could’ve stayed on the phone with him all night long, but I had work to do. And I didn’t want to seem desperate. I was quite sure women threw themselves at him 24/7 anyway, and if Sawyer said I was different from other women, I sure as hell wanted to keep it that way.
No sooner did I set my phone down, did I receive a text from him.
HOPE YOU ENJOY THE FLOWERS I SENT…
A knock on the door a minute later, sent a grin across my face as I traipsed across the apartment. Pulling the door open, my heart leapt when I saw him standing there, bouquet of pink tulips in hand.
“Are you serious?” I squealed, jumping up and down and practically throwing myself in his arms. “Had to make another emergency landing, did you?”
He pressed me against the wall outside my apartment building, claiming my lips with his as his hands slid down my sides and stopped just above my hips. “If you consider an uncontrollable urge to see a very particular woman an emergency, then yes.”
“Get in here.” I grabbed his navy silk tie and pulled him into my apartment, locking the door behind us. We stumbled onto the couch, where I pushed him down and fell to my knees.
I had to have him. Fuck grading papers.
I unzipped his bulging pants as he melted back into the sofa. “Fuck, Mouthy, look what you do to me.”
Pulling out his rock hard, throbbing cock, I placed my mouth around it, a bead of pre-cum already waiting for me. Swirling my tongue around the tip, Sawyer’s fingers found my hair, gathering it into a ponytail in his hand as he guided my movements.
Sawyer’s clean, masculine taste filled my mouth, and without warning, he pulled me up. “Stop, Mouthy. I want to cum inside that tight pussy of yours and not those fucking lips I love so much.”
His hands slid my leggings and panties down, and I straddled him as he sheathed his wet, throbbing dick. Lowering myself onto him and aided by my intense arousal, it was all I could do not to lose it right then and there. Sawyer’s hands slid under my top, cupping my breasts beneath the demi cups of my lace bra.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded. My right hand worked its way to my clit, rubbing it as I circled my hips.
“I’m so glad you came back,” I whispered as I bounced and rocked on his veiny cock.
“Me too,” he groaned. “Oh, god, you’re so fucking tight, Mouthy.”
Leaning down, I tasted the salt and musk of his skin and drank in his clean aftershave. Being connected with him made me feel like a million bucks, like I truly mattered to someone. For a man to fly across the country, not once but twice, to be with me, meant more than he’d ever possibly know.
“Come with me, Mouthy,” he said as his face twisted into a sexy half-smile. His hands left my breasts as he dug his fingers into my tangled mess of hair. “Don’t fight this. We’ve got all night. I’m not going anywhere…”
We exploded together, a mess of sexual tension and chaos that quickly dissipated in the air as soon as it’d arrived. I leaned onto him, burying my head on his shoulder and breathing him in once again, only this time it was mixed with the scent of our sex. Our own little brand I’d come to love.
I kissed his neck, working my way up to his jaw and then traveling to his ear, where I nibbled the tender flesh of his ear lobe. Every few seconds, I could still feel him pumping inside me, as if his dick weren’t finished yet.
“God, I missed that,” he said, displacing the hair from my eyes.
I wasn’t sure what we were going to do. I was stuck in Missouri for another two months, and I didn’t want to lose an ounce of our sex-on-fire chemistry.
“May 31
st
can’t come soon enough,” I whispered, nuzzling into his shoulder. “I can’t wait to get out of here. Start a new life.”
“I can’t wait to take you out of here,” he said. “Give you the life you deserve. A life with me.”
I peeled myself off his shoulder and looked into his dreamy gaze. His hand cupped the side of my cheek, and his thumb grazed my bottom lip, forcing a shiver down my spine.
“I promise, Maisie,” he said, “that I will always cherish you. I’ll never fuck you over. I’ll never do to you what he did.”
“You sure? Because people say a lot of things they don’t mean. It’s okay if you don’t want to promise me anything…we can just see how it goes and play everything by-”
“-I’m positive,” he leaned in, “and I really need you to stop talking right now.”
He gently pushed me off his lap and onto my back, climbing over top of me and quieting my words and thoughts with his hot mouth once again.
Sawyer
One year later…
I sat my keys down on the marble table in the foyer, next to the fresh flowers I’d had delivered earlier that week. Every Monday my florist dropped off an enormous bouquet of exotic blooms, something different each week, for my Maisie. Each arrangement arrived with a single sentence in French, fragments of a love letter that would all come together at the end of the year.
This week, the card said,
“
Le cœur a sesraison
s
.” The heart has its reasons.
The scent of garlic and tomato sauce wafted from the kitchen, and I rounded the corner to see her mindlessly dancing to some funky little song that blared from her iPad on the counter as she stirred a pot of sauce.
“Send the chef home tonight, did we?” I asked, coming up from behind her and slipping my hands around her waist. My fingers tugged the hem of her shirt up until the waistband of her jeans was exposed. I couldn’t wait to get her out of those jeans and into the sheets of my bed later that night.
My days without her were long, and my nights with her entirely too short. I couldn’t get enough of her. The way she smelled. The way she tasted. The way her face lit up as I showed her a whole new world.
“Thought it’d be nice if it was just us tonight,” she said, running her free hand over mine. “Plus you work your staff to the bone. Thought they could use a night off.”
She laughed. She knew my employees were well cared for, but coming from a middle-class background, she knew how important the little things were. And they all loved her. My housekeeper, Rosia, even said she liked Maisie just as much as Alexandria, which meant a lot because Rosia usually didn’t like anyone.
She spun around to face me as a slow smile enveloped her lips. “Here. Taste.” She lifted a wooden slatted spoon with a hint of red sauce on it to my lips.
“Amazing. As always.”
“You sure? You don’t think it needs more oregano?” she asked, a single eyebrow arched high.
The glint of the late afternoon sun caught the antique diamond sparkler on her left ring finger I’d placed there months ago when I’d whisked her off to Paris for a surprise getaway.
I couldn’t let her go, and I’d been cherishing her since the day she moved to Manhattan to start a new life. With me.
“The sauce is perfect,” I assured her, before claiming her full pout; the one I couldn’t live without as long as I lived. “Just like you.”
THE END
Rossi St. James is a twenty-something young woman with a passion for Oreos, crazy, twisted stories, and hiking trails with her two yellow labs, Sunny and Cloudy. When she’s not writing, you can probably find her scouring Pinterest for inspiration for her next book. (That’s pretty much all she uses Pinterest for anyway, as Rossi St. James cannot cook, sew, or craft).
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Love,
Rossi
