Indecent Encounter: The Silverhaus Affair (19 page)

M
y phone rang
as I parked the car outside the local police station. “Hello, Henry,” I said, not needing to look at the caller ID.

“You fired April Temple.” It was more of an accusation than anything. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” His voice was laced with the usual criticism he always reserved for me.

“She’s caused enough trouble,” I said as I killed the engine.

“What happens in your personal life shouldn’t affect the film,” he said.

“My thoughts exactly,” I retorted. I'd had enough.

I heard my father draw in an angry breath. “I don’t know what this little drama with the thieving maid is all about, but set it aside and do what’s best for the production. Losing April means losing investors, not to mention time, and money.”

That was exactly what I’d predicted he’d say.
Same old shit, new day.
“Look Henry, April accused Chelsea of stealing, she went so far as to frame her,” I said, slamming the car door shut with more force than needed.

“Some petty spat about a piece of jewelry isn’t reason enough to fire an actor.” He shot back. “She’s part of the actor’s union, for Christ’s sake. Do you have any idea how much paperwork this’ll create? Not to mention that firing her without just cause could bring on a lawsuit.”

“Except for the fact that I have proof she framed Chelsea. I’m at the jail right now, picking Chelsea up. April’s the one creating a hostile work environment, not Chelsea, and the police are going to have that on record once I give them the proof that April set up the whole thing.” I paused outside the entrance, not wanting to have this conversation in the middle of a police station. “And I can't guarantee they won't want to press charges against her.”

His voice changed from hostile to contemptuous. “Oh, Alex, don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure your little fling is just fine,” he said. “April, on the other hand, is inconsolable.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to console her. You seem to be really good at that,” I said.

“No.
You
will. What exactly are you going to do to smooth all this over?” he asked.

“Don’t worry. I called her agent on my way here, and I’ve sent an email to our casting head,” I said. “I’ll conference call with the investors later and explain everything.”

“I meant with April,” he snapped. “I’ve brought her to my house for the time being, but you need to fix this…and fast.”

“Sounds like you finally have your starlet right where you want her, Henry. Well, don’t worry, I’m not going to mess that up for you.”

I pictured my father yanking at his collar, the ruddy color creeping up his neck. He had a habit of doing that that when he was frustrated, and I swore I heard April whining and purring at him in the background.

April, the starlet was a wonderful fantasy, but April Temple, the petulant houseguest, was something entirely different. I smiled and kicked at a rock on the pavement, anxious to end this conversation and get inside to take care of Chelsea.

“The least you can do is come over for dinner and try to work things out,” Henry said. He actually sounded stressed.

“Sorry, Henry, I’m busy. Open a case of champagne and have yourselves a good night,” I said and clicked off the call.

The smile stayed with me as I took the first few steps, then I thought of Chelsea’s morning and I felt a stab of remorse. My poor little water nymph must be worried to death. And she must be really angry with me for bringing April into her life to begin with. I could only imagine how horrible she must be feeling about the false accusation. I hoped she realized I didn’t believe April for one second, but the idea that she’d sat in jail for the last couple hours probably thinking that I sided against her was enough to send me running up the last flight of steps.

The police station was bright and airy, with white gleaming floors, wide windows, and breathtaking views of The Hague. A few employees worked at white computers, while here and there people sat in interviews at small round tables.

Across the open office was a small sitting area with sofas and chairs. I saw Chelsea sitting comfortably on a light blue sofa under one of the wide windows, sipping a mug of tea. The uniformed officer seated across from her tipped back his white-blond head and laughed out loud, nearly making me stop in my tracks. I’d expected to find her wrought with worry, maybe even in tears and wearing an orange jumpsuit, not sipping tea and laughing. I didn’t see what was so funny about being in custody. Not when I'd been so worried about her.

“So this is where they keep the hardcore criminals?” I quipped, hoping to make light of my surprise.

Chelsea looked up and smiled, but the officer frowned, and said, “She’s not yet through processing.”

Clearly, he was in no hurry to finish the paperwork spread on the coffee table between them. I caught the look he gave her, and knew he’d been stretching out the time on purpose. My stomach clenched and I couldn’t decide what was worse, Chelsea being alone in a jail cell or here in the sunshine with this guy drooling over her. The way he clicked his pen made them both smile at some inside joke, and for a second I wished there were bars between the two of them instead of a coffee table and the damn sunshine.

“Ah. Well, I have a recording here that I think should be submitted along with…” I waved a hand over the massive paperwork. “All these forms.” I pulled out Jamison's phone.

Chelsea hid her shining smile behind the mug of tea as I played April’s confession for the officer.

When the recording finished, I addressed the officer. “My butler also heard the confession, and he would be willing to come in and give a statement if necessary.”

“This is quite outside regulations.” The officer sat with his pen still paused over a form as though thinking.

I shot him a steel glare. “Well, why don’t you go find someone who can decide that before you go any farther here?”

He popped up out of his seat. “Wait right here.”

After he left, I eased down onto the sofa next to Chelsea. “And here I was worried you’d be in a jumpsuit and working on your first tattoo.”

“If it makes you feel any better, they made me wear the handcuffs all the way down the driveway,” she said with a grin. “Oh, Alex, I was joking. Believe me, I’m fine.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she wasn’t upset and even gladder that she didn’t seem to be angry with me for all of April’s antics. “Hey, look Chelsea. I’m really sorry. This never should’ve happened. You’ll be glad to know, I fired April. She’s gone.”

She frowned, which wasn't the reaction I'd been expecting.

“What? But what about your investors? The film?” she asked, setting the mug down hard. “Don’t make everything harder on yourself just because of this.”

I took her hand. “I had to do it,” I said, “Should’ve done it a long time ago, but I was too...well, too much of a coward, I guess. But I couldn’t let her hurt you like this. I don’t want anyone to hurt you, ever.”

Chelsea squeezed my hand and smiled. “April’s really gone?”

I exhaled a deep breath and relaxed. “Well, she’s at Henry’s. Let him deal with the…we’ll just let him deal with her.”

Chelsea laughed. “Poor Henry.”

I glanced up to see the officer scowling at me from across the room as a tall man in a dark suit listened to what he was saying. The man nodded, frowned, and then marched over toward us.

“Ms. Carerra,” he said, holding out a large hand. “Captain Dollard. It seems you have strong character witnesses who vouches for your innocence.”

“And a recorded confession,” I added.

“Soft evidence,” he said, dismissing me. “I have an officer talking with Ms. Temple at the moment.”

It was impossible to tell what the man was thinking. His expression was as indifferent his whitewashed surroundings. I put an arm around Chelsea and scowled at him.

“Look Captain…I mean…Captain, sir, Ms. Temple is, well, she's an actress, and she can be very, um, convincing. What I’m trying to say is, she’s already admitted to framing Chelsea. She even explained how she did it. I have it all right here recorded on this phone. That should be enough to let Chelsea go.”

This definitely wasn't going like the white knight rescue I'd imagined.

The captain ignored me and addressed Chelsea again. “Ms. Carerra, you have a spotless record in the United States. That, plus the character witnesses and the fact the stolen property was recovered means you most likely will be leaving us with no more than a warning.”

Chelsea thanked him and the corners of his mouth tipped up in the barest curve of a smile. The junior officer raced up, smiled at Chelsea, and leaned in to speak quietly with the captain. The Captain’s eyes brightened and he turned to Chelsea. “In light of new information, you’re free to go. It seems Ms. Temple has dropped the charges.”

Apparently, April hadn't counted on my father wanting to avoid a scandal.

“I’ll escort you out,” the younger man offered with a smile.

Chelsea noticed the hard set of my jaw and squeezed my knee before she got up and accepted the officer’s arm. I didn’t like this young guy’s fawning over Chelsea, one bit. The tables were turned now, and Chelsea had someone flirting with her while I watched. I didn't like it one bit. Another man eyeing her, enjoying the touch of her arm or the lilt in her laughter as much as I did. I swallowed hard. It made me realize all the more how much I wanted Chelsea to be
my
girl and no one else’s.

I forced myself to keep an even keel and politely follow them out. They stopped at the front counter for her to sign a few more papers, and it seemed like an eternity before I had her alone in the car. Finally.

I jammed the key in the ignition and turned to study her face. “Are you alright?” I asked, starting the engine.

“Yes, fine. Just a little tired,” she said.

Before I shifted the car into reverse, I let the engine idle for a moment. I reached across and stroked a wisp of hair out of her face. I wanted to pull her into my arms and comfort her, tell her I’d protect her, and never let anything bad happen to her ever again. Instead, I held back, sure that she hated me for being so spineless, for not standing up to my father, not firing April sooner.

“You know Chelsea, I never believed April for a second,” I said, meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve been acting like a dickhead half the time.”

She shrugged as if throwing off my apology and said, “It’s okay. But…thank you.”

Searching her face, I wasn’t sure how to read her right now. Was that a polite
thank you
or not? I didn’t want to press my luck so I just said, “Why don’t you rest a bit while I drive us home.”

She nestled into the passenger seat while I put the car in reverse. The words echoed in my mind as I drove.
Drive us home
. It sounded good, and it'd felt even better when I'd said it. Chelsea may have thought of herself as merely my maid, but now I knew I wanted her to be more. I wanted her to be mine.

The question was, what did Chelsea want?

O
nce home
, I tried to give Chelsea some space, but barely thirty minutes had gone by when I found myself climbing the servants’ cottage steps, needing to see her. Up in her attic room, I found her fresh out of the shower, wrapped in a thin robe and brushing her hair. She was sitting at her small desk and looking out the window.

I leaned against the doorframe and crossed my arms over my chest, admiring a magnificent view of my own, my eyes drifting down her long, wet hair and finding a spot to nestle on the exposed curve of her perfect breast. Her robe was barely tied. “Got rid of the prison stench?”

Chelsea stopped brushing and chuckled as she turned to look at me. “Having a few cups of tea and answering some politely-worded questions doesn’t really count as hard time.”

She placed her hairbrush aside on the desk and turned further in her chair.

“Don’t stop on my account.” I nodded to the brush. It was the movement of her arm that was working the robe open in the front, but now that she faced me it gaped open enough for an eyeful.

She must’ve suspected something from the goofy grin on my face and the way I was eyeing her, because she glanced down at her robe, and then back at me with a smile. But she made no effort to pull it shut.

“Well, anyway, sorry I slept the whole way home,” she said. “I never got a chance to ask you how you feel.”

“Like an ass,” I said honestly. “I never should’ve let April anywhere near you.”

“No,” she said, “I meant about the film. You finally took control of things. That’s…”

Her words faded into the background. I was mesmerized when she stood and her long hair flowed around her shoulders. Talking about the film was the last thing on my mind as her loose robe fell open again.

Her eyes dipped down to follow my gaze, and when they returned to my face I saw a heated passion that sent my blood rocketing.

I was across the room in two strides, and then her body was flush against mine. The robe parted completely before our lips touched, and when I realized it was Chelsea who held open the ties, the rush of desire sent my happy cock into overdrive. I grabbed her ass and pressed my hips against her naked skin.

The groan I swallowed escaped as a low growl. I slipped my hands inside the robe, and across the curve of her lower back. The robe created an alluring effect, but I wanted her naked so I could relish every inch of her. I practically tore it off her shoulders, and in one toss, it was cast aside. I continued my exquisite torture, running my hands up and down her soft flesh, panting hard against her lips as our kiss deepened. Her tongue slid along mine, twisted around it.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and lifted against me. I dragged my hands down her tight ass to her silken thighs and pulled her legs up around my waist. Holding her, I managed the three steps to the bed and lowered us together, lost in the ecstasy of her indescribable spell.

When I stood up to peel off my shirt and pants, my heart was pounding and my head was spinning with the sight of her. This happened every time I was close to her. I was totally enraptured, like I was falling, uncontrollably falling, into some wonderful warm place, like I was falling right into her.

She lay on the bed, her arms flung over her head, a smile playing around her kiss-swollen lips. I froze, breathless from the sight of her. She was so beautiful. I felt her burn away every silly worry, absolutely everything that had ever seemed important. In this moment, there was no one else but her.

My cock throbbed harder and my mouth was dry with anticipation. I wanted to taste her, bury my face between her legs and pleasure her until she screamed my name. Her lush mouth widened as I lowered myself to the bed and pressed my aching cock against the softness of her thighs. Lost in a steamy cloud of desire, I locked my gaze on her eyes. Reaching for her hand I guided it to her wet pussy. Without breaking my gaze I pushed her finger against her clit and made her touch herself, then pushed her finger deeper into the fold. Wet with her arousal, I drew her finger back to her lips and made her taste it.

“This is what I live for,” I said huskily. “See how wet you are for me?”

I rubbed her fingers around her full, red lips and pressed one finger inside her mouth.

“Now suck on it.” She complied, her plush lips closing around her own finger, cheeks hollowing out as she sucked.

The sight of it was so hard-core, so seductive, I had to part my lips for a breath of air. It made me think of when I'd watched her lips around my cock as she'd sucked me off in the kitchen.
Damn
.

“Does it taste sweet? I bet it does. I can’t wait to taste you.” I panted the words, barely able to concentrate on anything except the fire racing through my veins, and the endorphins showering my brain.

She released her finger with a gasp as my hand found its way to her hot core. I caressed her, fingers sliding over and between her folds, and she arched, her head rolling to the side, an airy moan escaping her parted lips.

Damn, I loved that sound.

I shimmied down her twisting torso, my hands trailing over her breasts to catch her hardened nipples for a tweak before raking across the flat expanse of her stomach.

I kissed her bare mound as I pushed her legs open. She was so beautiful. Every inch of her. I spread her pussy open with one hand and slid a finger inside. She felt so good as I stroked in and out, fucking her with my finger, teasing her, knowing she wanted more pressure on her clit, wanted more of me.

I loved the way she arched and wiggled when I fingered her, when I touched her. I loved how she responded to me. I exhaled a raspy sound and quickly added another finger and stroked her again, curling my fingers to rub against the top of her.
Ah, she’s so tight…and wet…

She moaned again and wiggled more, making those little high-pitched sounds that made blood rush to my already-hard cock. The noises spurred me on, and I splayed my left palm out on her abdomen, pulling her skin tight and spreading her pussy lips even more to make that hard little nub pop out even farther.

Then finally, I was ready to taste her, I continued stroking her with two fingers as I buried my face in her wet flesh like I was devouring the most luscious dessert. I licked. I flicked. I swirled my tongue, and she gasped and writhed. I pressed harder with my left palm, trying to hold her rocking hips in place, reminding her who was in control. She didn’t get to rise up to meet my tongue. She had to take my direction and wait for it as I decided. It would make her orgasm more explosive.

She clawed at the sheets, desperate for what I had to give her. Desperate for me. Not because I had money or because she wanted something from me. Just me.

“That’s my little nymph.” I stopped my tongue long enough to talk, but kept my fingers stroking. “You like that don’t you?”

She let out a long exhale that was almost answer enough. I still needed her to say it though.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes…”

“Tell me how you like it. Like this?” I flicked my tongue across her swollen clit.

“Oh, god, yes, like that.”

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Alex. I like it.”

I gave her a couple of reward licks, loving the way my name sounded on her tongue. But I wanted more.

“No, tell me how you like it. Talk dirty to me. It’ll make my cock so hard for you.” It was true. The thought of sweet, shy little Chelsea saying anything even the least bit dirty was already turning me on.

She smiled, a sensual smile that was pure sex. “Lick me, Alex. I want your tongue on me…on my clit. I want you to lick it harder while you fuck me with your fingers.”

The words all came out in a hot, wet gush and although I’d thought this would be kind of hot, the effect on me was more than I’d anticipated. I had to fuck her
now
. My cock was about to explode. I swallowed hard and buried my face between her legs again, wanting to bring her right to the edge before I slid inside her and made her come.

Just as she was arching and twisting against my face, I rose up on my knees and grabbed my cock ready to drive it in and push her over the edge. I’d never wanted anyone as much as I wanted Chelsea. And as I thrust inside her, I let everything go. I closed my eyes and drove in deep, hunched over her heaving chest, falling and falling into a state of sheer bliss, falling into my Chelsea. I heard her gasp, and she clawed at my shoulders when she came, but I was too lost in pleasure to acknowledge the pain. She clenched around me, and I called out her name as I exploded inside her.

I had to tell her. I rolled to her side and pulled her into my arms, cuddling her close in the narrow little bed. I traced a finger along her chin and she smiled up at me, her head nestled on my shoulder.

I kissed the top of her head and said it the only way I knew how. “You’re mine, beautiful. No one else but you.”