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Vanilla On Top(62)

By:C.J. Ellisson


Apparently my late hours and closed mouth on the buyout have left him off balance. What will happen when next Friday rolls around and we announce Parkerson will be fighting to stay independent? Will our fleeting romance be over? Will he hate me for betraying his trust? Worse, will he think I used him this whole time as a distraction?

It’s scary how fast I’m falling for this man, and falling hard. Saying goodbye next Friday would tear me apart. There’s got to be a way around this, besides telling the truth and getting fired. I just can’t see it yet.

Tony twitches in his sleep and his arm tightens around me.

You could quit your job. That might help.

I discard the idea the moment it appears. I might care a lot for this man, but I don’t intend to lose my livelihood on a ten-day old relationship. Where would I be then? Monetarily dependant on Tony like all those other women before me? No thanks. How long would we last then? A month, tops?

Tony stirs behind me and his hand creeps down, angling across my stomach. His questing fingers delve between my folds, gently touching my inner lips, encouraging them to respond. I stretch and nuzzle my bum closer to his hips, eager to wake all of him.

Our passion feels unrushed now, the fervor of last night banked to a steady bed of coals. He gently stokes the rising flames of our desire, eventually rolling me to my back and snuggling between my thighs, making me feel more worshipped with his attention than any man ever in my life.

I open myself and my heart to him, eager to enjoy every moment, no matter what next week brings.



We climb out of bed around ten and I get a chance to examine his apartment more carefully. It has two big master bedrooms with their own baths, a fully equipped study, and a huge living room that connects to the dining area and gourmet kitchen. Wall to wall Brazilian cherry hard woods, everything done in basic neutral tones, leather couches, heavy wood pieces.

For sheer size and location alone, it’s pretty impressive, but also kind of…dull. He mentioned it was company owned and I can see it. There is nothing here to tell me more about the man I’ve grown to love.

A pit opens in my stomach once the admittance crosses my thoughts. Caring about a man more than he cares about me has led to disaster in the past. Previously I’d lose myself in them, eager for any moment they had to spare for me. My love was taken for granted and used to control me.

But you let it happen, didn’t you? Never standing up for yourself or what you wanted. Never expecting more than they’d be willing to give.

All of that is different now, or so I keep telling myself.

Tony makes me breakfast and insists on serving me in bed. As I’m sipping coffee, he hands me a brightly wrapped gift. My mind starts whirring. Could it be diamonds? He casually mentioned something about treating previous women to Vegas and diamonds.

Do I fall in the same category as them, or do I stand out at as someone different? Apprehension fills me as I reach for the package.

“Why do you look scared, Heather?” Tony flops down on the bed next to me. “I swear—it won’t explode.”

A tentative smile crosses my face and I slide a finger under the tape, unwilling to tear into the gift like a grasping harpy. The box is way too big to be a diamond bracelet. I’m sure I’m safe.

“Come on…,” Tony urges, a little-kid glee about him. “You’re killing me here!”

With a grin I rip open the package to see a stunning Nikon D4 camera. “Holy crap! You bought me a professional camera?” I squeal with delight and bounce on the bed, laying the box aside carefully to launch myself at Tony. I wrap my arms around his neck and plant kisses all over his face while he laughs. “I think this is the best gift I’ve ever received in my life!”

“Wow.” Tony holds me in his arms and returns my kisses. “I can’t wait to see how you react when you see the new lenses.”

“Ohmygod! Show me now!”



As we drive to Hoboken, Tony’s hand leaves the gearshift of his BMW to find mine. A gentle stroke of his fingers down the back of my hand draws a shiver of want through me. I glance at him while he’s driving and catch a small smile on his face. He feels it, too.

His eyes dart to me, then return to the road. The heat in his eyes caresses me for a split second, leaving me aching for more.

A big part of me worries I’ve got to stand tall and protect my heart, or it will be crushed under the charisma of this man. Breakfast in bed, the camera any serious photographer would love to own, and an amazing lover. As I squirm in my seat, hopeful he doesn’t sense my arousal, the realization that I’m already too far gone sucker punches me in the gut.

How will I handle this whole week without spilling my guts to him? What will I do if he leaves me?