The Boss Upstairs - Roya Carmen Page 0,53

barn. “Thank you so much for all these toys.”

Weston smiles, and I melt a little. That smile is powerful, sweet and sexy. “It’s the least I could do to repay you for the nice dinner I’m about to have.”

I laugh. “You shouldn’t thank me until you’ve tasted it.”

“I’m sure it will be great.”

“Well, someone like you is probably used to the finest restaurants, so please just lower your expectations for tonight.”

His gaze darts about my loft. “I just love being here. With you and Ethan,” he says. “It’s your place now… your rules.”

I grin. “Oh yes… I’m not done with you, Mister.”

I stand and offer my hand. He takes it and I pull him up. We head to the kitchen, leaving Ethan completely engrossed in his new toys. “Good thinking,” I tease. “Distracting the boy with new toys.”

He laughs. “My intentions were nothing but honorable, I swear,” he insists. “But now that you mention it…” He slides a hand under the skirt of my dress, and lifts the fabric. “Oh, damn… I love those.”

I smile, brought back to the delicate white panties I slipped on just for him. I open the refrigerator door. “I thought you’d approve, Mr. Hanson.”

“I do,” he says. “But I’m not liking this bruise. It’s turned purple. Is it painful?”

I turn to him. “Only when I sit.”

“Sorry,” he whispers against my ear.

“No more hard biting,” I scold. “I thought that was already specified in the agreement.”

“It was.”

“Hmmm… maybe you should be spanked,” I tease. “For not adhering to the agreement.”

He laughs out loud. “I’m the only one who doles out spankings.”

I smile. It seems like a double standard, but I’m quite okay with it.

The lasagna, my grandmother’s recipe, is already in the oven. The bread is baking in the breadmaker, and all that’s left are the appetizers and Caesar salad. I’ve already prepared the stuffed jalapeño peppers, and pull them out to bake. “You like spicy food, right?”

He kisses my shoulder. “As much as the next guy.”

I set the tray down on the counter, and push him away. “You need to stay off of me. I’ll never be able to get dinner ready if you don’t.”

He backs up reluctantly. “Yes, Ma’am.”

He watches me intently as I dance around the kitchen, fetching this and that. Every now and then, I check on Ethan who is still happily playing with his new toys. I steal a few glances at Weston, who looks delicious, dressed in all black. He looks sexy and dangerous. I suddenly want him to bite me again.

“I’m going to go say hello to Ethan,” he says. “If that’s okay.”

“Sure, yes.” I’m delighted to see him show an interest in Ethan. “Please go ahead.”

I watch him as he crouches down and settles next to Ethan. He chats with him, asking him many questions, most of which Ethan doesn’t answer. But he squeals and giggles. I can tell he likes Weston. But then again, Ethan likes most people.

Quite a while later, Weston is still entertaining my boy, and the salad and appetizers are finally ready. The table is set, and the lights are dimmed. I invite them to the kitchen, and Weston helps me get Ethan settled into his booster seat. I have cheese and crackers for Ethan. “Feel free to have some crackers and cheese if you don’t like the stuffed peppers.”

He helps himself to one, and I impatiently await his verdict.

He closes his eyes as he chews for the longest time. “Delicious,” he finally says and I smile, glad to have his approval.

“Spicy,” he says and reaches for his glass of water.

I laugh. “You can’t handle spicy, Mr. Hanson?”

“Oh, I can.”

“Can I open the wine?” he asks.

I nod, and hand him the wine bottle opener. I watch him as he uncorks the wine, and pours us both a generous amount. Ethan is happily enjoying his orange juice.

We settle at the table and both watch Ethan inhale his small cubes of cheese and crackers. None of us say a word for the longest time. “So the other day…” I start. One of many great things about having a two-year old is that they can’t really understand anything you say. “With the tie… you do that a lot?”

A slow smile curves his lips. “I haven’t for years. I did occasionally… with my wife. She liked that kind of thing. A husband needs to keep bedroom activities interesting.”

I laugh. “I bet he does,” I tease. “So it’s not usually your thing.”

“I certainly don’t mind it,” he tells me.