Chapter One

 

My life changed forever on a warm Wednesday night when I was just hanging around the house doing not much of anything. I had been doing not much of anything for a while, basically since I graduated from high school. I had had a few jobs, but they were mostly gigs that didn't last long.

My parents were impatient with me, thinking I was too stuck up, too full of myself because I didn't want to take jobs like waitress or store clerk. But honestly, they didn't pay very well and they had no future. What I needed to do was go to college so I could take something which would get me a really well-paying job.

Not that the pay was everything, of course. I wanted to do something interesting in life and spending my life as a waitress or store clerk certainly wouldn't be interesting. But I hadn't run across anything yet which really spoke to me of what I wanted to do in life. And until I did I didn't want to go to college. I mean, can you imagine spending years studying something that was dull and didn't really interest you? You want to spend your life doing something boring?

My father did. Or at least I don't know if he liked it, but it certainly seemed boring. He was a marketing executive for an aerospace firm. Basically, that means he's a sales guy. And I get that he's on a whole other higher level in the same way that an expensive call girl is way higher than a hooker on a street corner.

But she's still a hooker and he's still a sales guy. Only instead of selling shoes or milk or blouses, he sells private jets and helicopters. And yes, he makes a lot of money for that, but he still has to suck up to all kinds of people he wants them to sell stuff to.

So maybe I was kind of independent-minded. I didn't like the idea of sucking up to people. Which is ironic given what happened.

Anyway, it was late in the evening, and I was wearing basically nothing but my pajama tops. My aunt had given me a pair of black silk pajamas, and I loved how comfortable they were. But the tops were long enough to cover what had to be covered, so I rarely used the bottoms

The thing is, I developed a little late in my teens. She gave me the pajamas when I was seventeen. Like I said I really liked them. But between my seventeenth and eighteenth birthdays, I grew another inch in height and another cup size in the chest. I

And they still fit fairly well, except they're a little tight across the chest. And yes, the hem was a little short now when I don't wear the bottoms, but it wasn't like I was going to wear it around anyone who'd care. And I usually wore a thong, at least.

So that night I was wearing just the pajama tops and a black lace long and hanging around my room. I decided to go downstairs for a snack but hadn't realized that my father had come home and brought the client with him. He'd forgotten some kind of folio and was going to show it to the client in his office.

Well, obviously if I had known there was a strange man in the house I would not have come thumping down the stairs in just my pajama top. I came down too fast to realize he was there until I turned the corner of the stairway and saw him standing five feet in front of me. I froze momentarily, which probably wasn't the best thing to do given that I was standing three stairs up and he had a great view of my legs and perhaps even under the edge of the pajama top.

There was nothing for it at that point but to continue down. The alternative was to squeal like a silly little shy girl, turn around and run up the stairs. I had way too much dignity and pride for that! Especially in front of a guy, a very handsome guy. Well, he wasn't really a guy. He was a man. There is a distinction I make. Males younger than me are boys, while those around my age are guys. Although truthfully, way too many of the guys I know act like boys.

This was most definitely a man. I wasn't good with ages for men, but he looked younger than my father, anyway. He looked to be maybe in his early to mid-thirties? Though I wasn't sure. He was wearing a very nice-looking dark gray suit which seemed to fit him like a second skin.

That meant it was likely tailored and expensive. What was more he had a very broad chest and wide shoulders. He was tall and square-jawed, with dark blue eyes and a smattering of facial hair that could either be a light beard or forgetting to shave for a couple of days.

He also had a very deep voice.

"You must be Tessa," he said.

That completely screwed over my plan to give him a casual nod and hurry past with as much dignity I could until I got out of his sight.

"Uhm, yes," I said, trying to keep my voice level.

Now, looking the way I do, I'm used to boys teasing and taunting me, and males of all ages sliding their eyes up and down my body. I have flame-red hair, which I knew looked gorgeous against the black silk. I also have long legs which were mostly naked. I wasn't surprised that his eyes slid up and down me appreciatively.

At least he was casual about it and didn't stare. You have no idea how irritating it is to have men and guys and boys staring at you everywhere you go. Especially since they often do more than that, trying to hit on me, or whistling or calling out obscene things about my body.

My eyes were doing the same in return. Quite involuntarily I could feel myself reacting to those broad shoulders and chest. I felt a sudden rush of something very carnal within me. This guy was incredibly hot! And here I was wearing nothing but my pajama tops and a thong!

"Your father has told me about you," he said.

I wondered what my father had said. I couldn't imagine it was very flattering. Probably something like I have a lazy daughter who thinks she's a princess, sits around the house all day, and doesn't do any work. Certainly, that's what he says to me.

I responded intelligibly with "Uhm..."

"He failed to mention how remarkably beautiful you are," he said.

The problem with being a redhead is you can blush easily. Now I've got an awful lot of complements in my life from all kinds of boys and guys and men. And I knew it was because they all wanted to get me naked and do all kinds of stuff to me.

I didn't this guy was any different. But it was something about his... I don't know, his presence, his size, his voice... I was instantly intimidated for some reason. Okay, he was older, bigger, stronger, almost certainly more sophisticated, probably rich if he was my father's client, and did I mention he had this delicious English accent?

I'm generally not attracted to guys way older than me, and he was certainly more than ten years older than I was. But I felt a swirling charge of sexual energy and interest as I stood before him. I mean, part of that was because I was half-naked I suppose. I was very much aware of how thin the silk was against my chest and couldn't help anxiously wondering if my nipples were pressing against it firmly enough for him to notice them.

My nipples have been annoying me for years. They're small pink things, but incredibly sensitive. Which isn't a bad thing necessarily, except that when they get hard they stick out pretty noticeably. They get hard fairly easily too, either due to the cold, me getting excited, which is way rarer, or just rubbing against something. Even soft silk

I dropped another step lower, just to be sure he couldn't see underneath the bottom of my pajama top as he held out his hand.

It was an enormous hand, which folded quickly around mine as I automatically reached out. It was warm, and I felt that warmth spreading up my arm as I swallowed nervously, feeling my chest tighten. Then I knew without any doubt, as I started to get that breathless feeling, that my nipples were hardening beneath my top. I could feel them tingling!

"My name is Cameron Forbes," he said.

"Uhm, hi," I said, feeling really awkward.

I mean, I don't usually get very excited just from looking at a guy. But this man was really hot. And his hand was impressively firm around mine.

"That's a very nice... nightie you're wearing," he said with a half-smile.

I felt myself blushing again, my mind squirming with both embarrassment and a dark, thrumming sense of helpless, rising excitement.

"It's just pajamas," I gulped. "I mean, I would've worn the bottoms if I'd known anyone was going to be around."

"Well then, I'm glad you didn't know," he said with a broader smile. "You have extraordinarily beautiful legs. Did you know that?"

I felt my pulse rate picking up quickly.

"Your father said you were looking for a job," he said.

"Well, kind of. I mean, trying to find something that's not boring."

"Really? By an amazing coincidence, I happen to have an opening for a job that isn't boring. Perhaps I'll suggest it to your father when he gets back from his office."

"What kind of a job?" I asked.

I noted he was still holding my hand.

"A job with a very high salary and travel all over the world."

I stared at him in surprise. "Um, I only have high school," I said reluctantly.

"My dear girl," he said, "how can you expect to have anything else at your age?"

"What would the job be about?" I asked.

He grinned rakishly at me and I felt him pulling on my hand so that I came down another step.

"You and I can discuss that later perhaps. Your father said you just turned eighteen," he said, still holding my hand.

"Months ago!" I squeaked.

"Ah, is it too late for me to say happy birthday?"

"A-A little," I gulped. "But you can if you want to!" I said in a rush.

I felt him pulling firmly on my hand, and I came down another step until I was standing right in front of him.

"The way I wish beautiful women happy birthday..." he said, his voice soft and low, "tends to be rather more personal than most."

I was kind of gaping at him, I know, then he leaned forward a little and his lips brushed softly against mine. I felt an instant jolt of something wild and carnal within my chest as his lips softened and seemed to spread against mine.

I felt my eyes widen, my heart thumping wildly, for he didn't drop back but like to kiss deepen, his lips soft and warm as they slid gently against mine. I felt his other hand suddenly drop down onto my left hip, stroking lightly and then easing around and up under the short hem of the pajama top, sliding up my thigh so that his wrist pushed the light silk upward.

I was astonished, stunned, even as my mind melted under the deepening kiss that was more exciting than any I had ever felt. And then his big finger, amazingly deft, slid through the thin elastic top of my thong and down inside to brush lightly along the line of my naked sex.

There was a sudden powerful rush of liquid heat there which flooded up through my body. I gasped in shock, pulled back from him, turned, and ran up the stairs, just catching his grin before I turned away.

I hurried back into my room, closed and locked the door and then stood there gulping in air, my mind churning with wild confusion of thoughts and emotions. Holy shit! I could hardly believe he just... just reached out and slid his hand in my panties! And he'd done it so deftly, so quickly, so slickly I hadn't noticed until I felt his fingers against my pussy!

Of all the fucking nerve! I mean, except for when I was on dates with them boys hadn't tried to just touch me since junior high. You wouldn't expect a sophisticated older man to act that immature! But then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized he wasn't acting immature. He was just incredibly self-confident and arrogant!

He was a big, rich, handsome-looking guy who was probably used to women throwing themselves at his feet. And probably expected me to do the same! Well, he could just forget that! What I should do was tell my father what he'd done!

I only thought about that for a minute before realizing that was probably a dumb idea. If my father was to physically attack the guy, not only would he likely lose his job, but he'd probably get hurt. Forbes was a very big, strong-looking guy. And my father had a dad body.

Did I want to cause that much trouble for my father just because this guy had touched me for a few seconds? No. Absolutely not. I would think nasty things about him, but that was about the extent of whatever revenge I was capable of inflicting on him.

Whatever. Guys had done lots worse to me. And probably would in the future. This was no big deal. It had just been so unexpected, coming from him. You don't expect a sleek, sophisticated, stylish rich guy to be that blatant. But I suppose if you're rich and handsome you don't have to care that much about what others think of you.

And like I said he was amazingly hot! I don't want to sound shallow when I say it, but I know, to be honest, that robbed what he'd done of much of the anger I would otherwise have felt. Not only that, but part of me actually felt regret that I responded so impulsively. What would've happened if I had not turned and run away?

I threw myself on my bed and googled his name. It turned out he ran a financial services company, make that owned the company. There were a few pictures of him at business affairs and one of him getting out of a limousine at some kind of charity ball. There was a really hot-looking blonde on his arm when he did so. I wondered if that was his wife.

Whatever.

I would give them time to finish up and him to leave before I went back down again. I did wonder what he meant about a job, though I was pretty sure he was implying something sexual. Do rich guys always think they can buy girls? Did he think I was some poor, desperate girl who would sell her pussy to him?

Well, he could forget about that!