Frosting Her Christmas Cookies - Alina Jacobs Page 0,64
and my body. I quickly used pictures of Christmas desserts to cover my face.
I stood back and regarded the piece. It had a sort of dystopian sexy retro vibe. It was also daring and sent a clear message.
“Scholarship, here I come!”
And maybe Jonathan would make me come.
34
Johnathan
I bet I could have had Morticia whimpering and moaning as I made her come on my hand. But I still wasn’t sure where we stood.
It’s just sex. You’re overthinking it.
But it felt like more. Morticia had cooked for me, after all. The chicken parmesan had been crunchy and tomatoey, and she had made garlic bread with parmesan cheese on it. Yet none of it had felt as good as stroking her through the lacy black panties. The slick wetness, the way her hips had moved slightly…I had wanted to strip her down and ram her pussy onto my cock.
But that was for later; the first time, I was going to go slow and savor it. I wanted her to like me, needed her to like me or at least want me. I was craving that connection with someone.
“Don’t,” I warned myself. “You’re horny, and it’s making you crazy. You should have just fucked her last night and gotten it out of your system.”
My assistant stuck her head into the office. “Carl Svensson is here to see you.”
While I waited for my friend, I looked out through the large window that took up a good portion of the masonry wall of the renovated factory.
The door opened a few minutes later.
“Hey, Carl,” I said, not looking up from my phone, “you want to grab a drink then complain about your brother?”
“Is that what you all do all day?”
I whirled around in my chair then jumped up when I saw Greg standing there next to Carl, who was making frantic cut-it-out gestures.
“Why am I not surprised? And to think I wondered why on earth you still hadn’t managed to secure this property deal.”
“I’m close,” I promised him.
“That’s what you always say,” Greg retorted, walking slowly around my office. “And yet you have failed to deliver. It’s nothing but empty promises from you while you waste my time and my money.”
“I told Carl to tell you I’ll have it by Christmas Eve.”
“Carl did say that.” Greg turned to face me, gray eyes flat. “You know what else Carl told me? He said you had an in.”
“A what?”
“You have a secret weapon to make Dorothy give you what I want.”
I was confused.
“Jesus Christ,” Greg said. “You’re worse than your brothers.”
“Morticia!” Carl said excitedly. “Dorothy likes Morticia. You can convince Morticia to put in a good word for you. You know, make it seem like we’re going to make the development all artsy-fartsy.”
“I thought we were keeping some of the character,” I said, frowning.
“No,” Greg said. “The historic buildings, yes, but not those nests of sculptures.”
“Morticia won’t go for that,” I said slowly. “She’ll want to make it as art centric as possible.”
“That’s why you don’t tell her,” Greg said impatiently. “Tell her what you want her to think so that she will convince Dorothy to sell. I can sense the old woman’s close. She just needs a little push.”
“Morticia’s not going to just do that for me; we aren’t friends,” I said bitterly. “She doesn’t even like me.”
“Then make her like you,” Greg ordered. “Make her get obsessed with you and fall in love with you so that she’ll do anything for you, up to and including convincing Dorothy to sell.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “That sounds…”
“Brilliant,” Greg replied. “Are you committed or not?”
I needed that property. My parents would finally love me if I had that property. Hell, if I had all the money and clout from being a member of the Hamilton Yards development team, I could start to repay Belle for all the sacrifices she had made. Maybe Sarah would even come back!
“I don’t want to hurt Morticia.”
“I’m sorry, do you actually want to run with the big dogs, or do you want to sit at the bottom of the pile, wondering if today is the day that the market swings and turns your 1.2 billion dollars into millions and makes you a has-been?” Greg spat. “Who cares about Morticia?”
I do.
It’s just horniness. You just want to sleep with her, not marry her.
“You can be charming when you want to be,” Carl cajoled. “Just convince her that you’re in love with her and want to build a life with her.”