Sugar & Spice Page 4

  I’d never done it.

  I mean, I’d fooled around once or twice, but nothing ever got very far, let alone to sex. And I, for one, would have loved to know how anyone else in a school like Harvard had found the time to experiment with sex before coming to college. Between the advanced classes, the private tutors, the French immersion lessons, piano lessons, soccer practice, model U.N., student government, and volunteering at the nursing home, when on earth would I have had time for a boyfriend, or even sex?

  When she found out, Becca had started teasing me about it, of course. But then it’d just gotten worse, and more annoying, until it became this obnoxious game she played, or something she let slip at parties while drunk. All that would have been annoying, to be sure, but nothing I couldn’t brush off.

  That was before I found out about the bet.

  Randomly, one week, I found myself getting chatted up be all sorts of older guys on campus. Like, everywhere. In-between classes, at the library, waiting in line at the cafeteria, in my dormitory — suddenly I had twenty older guys very interested in taking me out sometime. I mean, men hit on me — that wasn’t something new to me or anything. But it’d never been this constant. And I’d been flattered, I guess, at first.

  Until I found out the real story.

  Because it seemed Becca had gotten wasted at some party and let it slip that her roommate was some big prude of a virgin. Drunk boys had started talking, and demanding to see Facebook pictures, and then started joking amongst themselves, I guess how drunk boys do.

  But then “the bet” had come up, and instead of laughing it off, they’d all kept at it until it became real — an actual bet, with real money, was set up to see who could “take my cherry.”

  Disgusting, right?

  I’d been furious about it when I’d found out, but that’s also when I made the decision.

  Because fuck that. Fuck being a bet for a bunch of asshole ivy-league douche-bags. If I was going to lose, it I was going to do it on my terms.

  So, I’d gone out that very night with one mission — to get laid.

  Because who cared? In my head, I’d just go out, get it over with, see what the fuss was about, and then just move on.

  The only problem?

  Well, I wasn’t expecting him.

  Or what happened.

  Or the fact that that single experience was the hottest thing that had ever happened to me. Or that I couldn’t stop think about it a week later.

  And now I was in his home. I was watching his kids.

  I glanced at the time and gasped.

  Shit.

  I showered quickly, slipping on clothes and heading downstairs. I nodded at Andrew, the butler who’d shown me in and shown me to my quarters the night before. I poured myself some coffee, and then waited at the breakfast table in the large kitchen.

  I only waited a few minutes before I heard the scamper of feet on the stairs, the giggle of two small voices, and then suddenly, there they were.

  Beckham and Lillian. Andrew had filled me in the night before on the way to my room. Beckham, the oldest, was six, and his little sister Lillian was four. The two of them were towheaded, blonde, like me — Beckham with his father’s sharp gray eyes, and her with light blue ones. They stopped short in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes wide as they stared at me.

  God, they were adorable.

  I smiled widely as I stood and moved towards them, watching them subtly shy away until I crouched down in front of them, more their size. “Well hello there!”

  “Hello,” Beckham spoke first, eyeing me boldly.

  “Hello,” his sister said a little more shyly, hiding behind her brother.

  “You must be Beckham and Lillian!”

  Beckham grinned shyly. Lillian slowly did the same, coming out from behind her brother.

  “Hey, do you guys like treasure hunts?”

  Two sets of eyes lit up, and I grinned to myself. Yeah, I’d babysat before, and this one was sure-fire hit when meeting new kids. The best part? At this age, I could get them hunting for the first clue while I made up the second — hunting for the second while I thought up the third, and so on. The kids always loved it and I always had a blast doing it and getting to know them through it.

  Beckham nodded eagerly. “A real treasure hunt?”

  “Yep,” I nodded matter-of-factly. “In this very house.”

  Lillian gasped in this adorable way as she slowly came out from behind her brother.

  “So, the first clue is, it’s some place cold, and you might find food in it.”

  Beckham’s hand shot up. “Is it the refrigerator?”

  I stroked my chin thoughtfully as I nodded slowly. “You know, it might be. Lillian, can you show me where your refrigerator is?”

  She beamed at me as she walked right up and took my hand. “Okay!”

  “You’ve met.”

  We turned to see Colin standing in the doorway of the kitchen, immaculately dressed as always, crisp white linen shirt and all. He smiled warmly at us, his eyes moving between me and his children.

  “We have,” I said, still holding Lillian’s hand as she tried to drag me towards the fridge.

  “Hey, guys?” Colin cleared his throat and his kids both stopped to listen. “Guys, this is Isabella, she’s going to be your new nanny for a while.”

  Lillian did her little gasp again as she looked up at me in awe. “Are you coming to France with us?”

  “I am!” I smiled at her.

  She beamed. “Oh, good.”

  “Dad,” Beckham sighed. “We’re on a treasure hunt.”

  “Oh, right,” Colin nodded. “Carry on then,” he added with a wink at me.

  7

  Isabella

  “Settling in I take it?”

  I looked up from my book to see Colin standing in the doorway of my room.

  God, those eyes — that look in them.

  I could feel myself flush crimson, as if I’d just been reading a steamy romance novel and not next semester’s economics textbook.

  “Yes.” I nodded, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

  He nodded, his eyes dropping to the book. “Bakerman’s Laws of Merger, hmm?”

  “You know it?”

  “I know him.”

  My brows raised in surprise. “You know Maxwell Bakerman?”

  “We’re acquainted. I was at a dinner with him in Prague a month ago, actually.”

  Of course, he did. Of course, he was acquainted to the former assistant to the treasury secretary, current board-member at three different banks, and consultant to the Federal Reserve.

  Of course.

  I did my best to hide the impressed smile. “Wow, that’s—”

  “Boastful.”

  I grinned, looking up to see him doing the same.

  “It’s not the most interesting of crowds, I can promise you.”

  We stayed like that for a minute, him in the doorway, me sitting on the edge of my bed, just looking at each other, as if neither of us knew what to say next. It was funny to think of us in this scenario, in his luxurious, clean, elegant townhouse, compared to our first encounter.

  Dirty.

  Reckless.

  Wild, filthy, and hot.

  I finally looked away, blushing at the memory. “I— yes, I’m settling in. Your children are adorable, by the way.”

  He smiled, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe. “They are, aren’t they?”

  I smiled.

  “They’re my everything, actually. All this?” he nodded at the house around us. “I’d trade it in a second for them. All of it in an instant. I mean that.”

  I had no doubt he did.

  “Well, I’m excited to be spending time with them. They’re really great kids.”

  “They’re excited about you coming to Paris with us.”

  “I’m excited to be coming.”

  “Excellent. Well, I’ll leave you to your reading.”

  He t
urned to go but stopped

  “Ms. Wilder—”

  “You can just call me Bella, you know.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Sir,” I added quietly.

  He grinned.

  “I just mean, everyone does.”

  “It’s a pretty name.”

  And there I went, blushing like a schoolgirl.

  “Thank you.”

  “Ms. Wilder,” he said, clearly making a statement of still using my last name. “We need to discuss what happened yesterday.”

  I felt my heart flip-flop.

  The spanking.

  The way his hand had stung my backside as he bent me over his knee, his cock throbbing against my belly.

  That was “what happened yesterday.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said quietly.

  “That can’t happen again.”

  I felt my stomach drop, even if I knew he was right. I nodded.

  “It simply can’t. We need this relationship to be professional, despite our…” He trailed off. “Despite recent history between us.”

  History between us.

  As in, him grabbing my ass, wrapping my legs around his waist, and fucking me hard against the tiled wall of the nightclub bathroom.

  That history.

  “You need to be aware that I hired you based on your qualifications and your recommendation from Dr. Rice, not because of…” He trailed off again, but I knew what he meant.

  Not because I’d sucked his cock.

  Not because I’d come for him when he demanded.

  “I understand, sir.”

  “Good.” He nodded silently from the doorway, the faint hint of a smile teasing his lips. “I’m glad you’re here, Bella,” he said quietly, before he turned and strode out the door, closing it behind him.

  8

  Colin

  It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas around the house.

  Andrew and some of the other staff had been busy, putting up wreaths, holly, and a huge tree in the solarium that Beckham and Lillian couldn’t get enough of. We were leaving shortly for Paris, but it was still nice to have the house looking like this for the holidays. Those kids needed a little joy after the year they’d had.

  It’d been a week since Bella had come to live at the house. A week of forcing myself to keep my mind occupied, of making a conscious effort not to stare at her when she walked into a room.

  A week of my cock being hard enough to cut diamonds, knowing she was just down the hall, sleeping in that bed.

  I craved her.

  I wanted her in some sort of primal way, like I needed to claim her. I needed to bury my cock in that sweet pussy again, to take her like I had before.

  To make her come for me.

  It was a lesson in fucking zen meditation, trying to keep my mind focused on literally anything but her and my need to taste her sweet body again.

  A lesson I was still learning.

  The laughter and giggles of my children echoed down the hall as I made my way down the marbled staircase to the basement. The sound of splashing water made me smile as I stepped across the heated tile floor towards the pool room.

  I’d had this installed when I’d purchased the house — and it was a place I cherished in this home. I’d spent a semester in Florence during my sophomore year of business school, working for an international art buying company, and it had left an impression on me. The pool area in the basement was my reminder of that time. I’d spared zero expense importing the Italian marble, the handmade custom hardware, or the artisan tile-work — all made to bring the baths of Florence to my basement.

  Worth every fucking penny.

  I smiled as I pulled open the frosted glass doors to the pool, seeing Lillian and Beckham splashing and giggling in the shallow end with Bella.

  God, they looked happy, and that alone was enough to make me smile. But then my eyes dropped to her — to Bella, and I suddenly had another reason entirely to smile.

  The soft curve of the bare skin of her back, the thin black line of her two-piece bathing suit top across it. The ripples of her spine, the smoothness of her shoulder. Her blond hair was piled atop her head, and as she turned, smiling at me, she pushed one errant lock behind her ear as her eyes sparkled.

  God what sight.

  God, was she perfect.

  I forced myself to look away, forced myself not to think of the things I’d like to do to her as I made my way to one of the lounge chairs, sinking into it and picking up my paper. I tried to concentrate on the day’s news — on stocks, or relevant recent mergers, or literally anything to get my mind off of the sweet young thing splashing her lithe, perfect body around my pool a few feet away.

  I couldn’t go there — not again. And I knew it.

  Eventually, I heard them stepping from the pool, and I glanced up.

  Fuck.

  Shouldn’t have done that.

  The black two-piece bathing suit was by no means sexy — it wasn’t some scandalous thong or bitsy bikini.

  But it was enough. It was enough to hug every curve and every line of that body. It was enough to get my blood roaring.

  She turned to me as she wrapped a towel around her waist, blushing at what I assumed was the hungry look on my face as I devoured her with my eyes.

  “We’re just going up for nap time,” she said with a smile, nodding at my kids.

  “If you’d like to come back down after and relax by the pool…” I shrugged.

  What was I saying?

  No, stay away. Stay upstairs, and don’t come near me because I won’t be able to control myself.

  The words screamed in my head, my lips sealed tight as my eyes locked onto her.

  “That sounds lovely,” she said with a smile.

  My jaw tightened as she blushed again, giving me another smile before she turned and ushered the kids upstairs.

  I groaned as I went back to my paper, trying to convince myself to get up and walk away before she came back down. But fifteen minutes later, there she was, slipping back in through he frosted doors with the child monitor in her hand — still in that bikini with the towel around her waist.

  Her smooth belly on display, her hips swaying.

  Her pert breasts in that top.

  Her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders.

  I wanted to wrap that hair in my fist as I bent her over and fucked her until she begged for more. I wanted to yank that top off, bury my mouth in her breasts and feel her sweet pussy slip down every inch of my cock.

  And slowly, I felt the hunger take hold.

  A week of denying myself.

  A week of saying no.

  It was becoming too much.

  “Wow, you have a sauna?”

  I swallowed my lust, blinking and nodding at her. “I do.”

  “Do you mind if I…?” She grinned and nodded at the wooden door to my sauna.

  “Please,” I growled out, my eyes taking her in

  She seemed to be oblivious of the look in my eyes as she turned and let her towel drop, revealing those long, toned legs and the way the suit cut across her thigh.

  God help me.

  She turned and moved to the door of the wood-lined sauna, turning once to look at me and smile, before she slipped inside.

  And that look did it.

  It was the same one on her face that night at the club. It was the same damn coy look she’d had when I’d bought her a drink. The same coy look she’d had just before her eyes had gone wide as I’d pulled her into that bathroom.

  That look sent a lightning bolt right to my cock, and I was done.

  I dropped the paper, standing in a daze, moving like I was in a trance as I walked to the sauna.

  The temptation was too much.

  The sweetness between her legs that I knew was just inside that door was too much.

  The pleasure I could pull from her body.

  I needed it, craved it.

  I craved her.

  “Oh!”r />
  Bella gasped, looking up from the towel she’d been laying down on the wooden seat as I stepped into the steaming sauna.

  “Mr.— Sir, I did know you were—”

  Her words caught, her eyes going wide at the look in my face.

  “Sir—” she whispered.

  I moved towards her, my eyes locked on her, my jaw tight. She swallowed, taking a shaking breath, her eyes dipping over my bare chest and then up to my eyes.

  “Sir, we—”

  “You’ve done well so far, Ms. Wilder,” I growled.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You’re familiar now that bad girls get punished.”

  Her breath caught, her eyes going wide and that blush creeping into her cheeks as she nodded.

  “Well, good girls get rewarded.”

  This was it. There was no going back from this. Not anymore.

  Being under a microscope be damned, I had to have this.

  She gasped as my hand slid over her waist, slipping around to her back and moving down to her sweet ass as I pulled her hard against me.

  “Sir, I—”

  She moaned as I kissed her, my hand tangling in her golden hair and pulling tight as she whimpered into my mouth. Her small body trembled against me, her hands going to my chest, her fingers tightening on my muscles as I tasted her plump lips.

  Bella gasped as I pulled away, her eyes wide and hungry as she looked up at me with a flush gracing her face.

  “Turn around,” I said evenly.

  “Sir?”

  “Turn around,” I growled, spinning her as she moaned. “On your hands and knees, Ms. Wilder,” I hissed, pushing her down onto the warm wooden bench of the sauna.

  She gasped, moved to do as she was told, resting on her knees and her palms. She turned back to look at me apprehensively.

  I growled as I moved in, my hand trailing over her apple of an ass. Fingers found the ties at the sides of her suit, and I yanked the strings, making her gasp. The suit fell away, and my eyes narrowed on the prize.

  Fuck yes.

  Her sweet, pink, glistening wet pussy, ready and waiting for me there between her thighs.

  “I—”

  “Ass up, Ms. Wilder.”

  My fingers trailed over her skin, raising her ass up in the air as my cock throbbed in my swimsuit. I knelt behind her, moving in and inhaling the intoxicating scent of her arousal. I could see how wet she was — how ready she was for me.