Page 6 of Falling for Them (Cinderella’s Daddies #1)

Six

Ella

Joel isn’t working the next night I’m scheduled to be at Tyler Analytics.

I text him to see if maybe he wants to come into the office—I want to tell him all about the dress I’m getting for the gala.

I should’ve snapped a picture of me wearing it in the fitting room…

but no, it’ll be better to surprise him with it.

He’s never seen me in anything except a maid uniform (well, and my underwear. And naked), so the chance to show off my body in a beautiful gown has me so excited, I could sing.

So, sing I do, softly while I vacuum. The offices along the top floor hallway are dark…until I reach Mr. Tyler’s office.

There, the lamp on his desk is on, and he’s sitting there, his eyes fixed on his computer monitor.

I wonder what keeps him here so late every night. I know he isn’t married to Joel’s mother anymore, from something Joel mentioned once. But is there another woman in Mr. Tyler’s life? It seems like there should be—I’d be shocked if he isn’t seeing anyone.

It’s none of my business, though. I’m only idly curious, because I’m dating his son. It makes sense to be curious about my boyfriend’s family.

When I glance his way again, I nearly drop the vacuum cleaner.

Mr. Tyler is staring at me.

My face heats, because he caught me looking at him, and I quickly turn my head.

But I can’t resist sneaking another peek at him.

This time, he’s not looking at me at all.

I squash my disappointment. I’m being ridiculous. He probably wasn’t looking at me to begin with—these windows are very reflective, and he could’ve simply been spacing out over the shape of the furniture in his office.

I don’t move away, though. Apparently, I’m making sure the floor in front of his office is extremely clean.

It’s past time to move on to the next section of the hallway.

This is embarrassing, the way I’m hovering here, as if hoping for…

what? What do I think is going to happen right now?

I’m dating his son, for fuck’s sake, and that’s already a stretch—a nobody maid dating a rich, polished guy like Joel Tyler.

Now I suddenly think I could capture the attention of a distinguished man who’s old enough to be my dad?

My actual dad would say I’ve gotten too big for my britches.

Yeah. Enough of this. I angle the vacuum cleaner away from Mr. Tyler’s stretch of the hallway, and back toward Joel’s office.

A loud throat-clearing behind me has me whirling around, a hand to my heart, which suddenly feels like it wants to leap out of my chest.

Mr. Tyler is standing in his doorway. “Ella?”

“Y-yes, sir?”

“I apologize for scaring you.”

“No,” I say with a weak laugh. “No problem, I just startle easily, that’s all.”

He nods. “I’d like your help with something, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” I chirp, shutting off the vacuum cleaner. “Should I bring in my cart of cleaning supplies?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

As I go down the hall to retrieve the cart, I take slow, even breaths. Calm down, Ella. Mr. Tyler is just an extremely attractive man.

He has an extremely attractive friend, too.

And an attractive son, I remind myself with a mental slap. Who happens to be my boyfriend.

I bring the cart back to his office. He’s still standing in the doorway, his arms folded across his broad chest. As always, he wears a slightly disapproving scowl on his face, and I shiver. Why does that scowl turn me on? It shouldn’t. It doesn’t. I won’t let it.

“All right, I’m all set,” I say to him cheerfully. “Where do you want me?”

The corner of his mouth twitches upward like I’ve told a joke, and I realize how that question could’ve sounded. But surely he’s not thinking about what I’m thinking—that would be ridiculous and impossible.

The lip twitch dies down and he looks even more severe as he says, “My bookcase hasn’t been dusted in a long time. I went to retrieve a book the other day and had a terrible sneezing fit.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I rush to say. “I haven’t been dusting in here because…”

I stop. My boss at Maids in Heaven has drilled it into all of the maids that we’re not supposed to make excuses or give reasons for mistakes—we’re supposed to apologize and make it right.

Coughing a little, I say, “I apologize. Let me fix that now, if you don’t mind me working while you’re in here?”

“I would appreciate it,” he says, moving toward the minibar and pouring himself a drink.

I scurry to the bookcase, a bottle of spray and a clean rag in hand. The top shelf is way too high for me to reach, and I stifle a sigh.

“I’ll be right back,” I whisper, not wanting to disturb Mr. Tyler.

“What is it?” he asks sharply.

“I need the stepladder to reach the top shelf.”

“I’ll retrieve it for you.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Tyler, I couldn’t let you do that.”

He raises a single eyebrow. “Couldn’t let me?”

Oh, shit. “I mean, you can do whatever you want, ha. Like, you own the whole fucking building—crap. Freaking building.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t stop talking. “You can do anything to anyone in here, because you’re the dad—I mean, shit, you’re the boss, and—”

“Ella,” he says, interrupting me.

“Yes?”

“You have a bit of a potty mouth, don’t you?”

I press my lips together and force myself to think about my response. I’m going to get fucking fired, is what’s going to happen.

He’s still waiting for my response, those stormy, grayish-blue eyes locked on me, his glass of whiskey tilted toward his lips.

“Sometimes I get nervous,” I say quietly.

“And that makes you say curse words?”

Shaking my head, I say, “No, it doesn’t make me say them. It makes me forget to hold them in.”

He grins. “That’s the most honest thing I’ve heard all day, Ella.”

“Thank you, sir?”

“You’re welcome. Now, I’ll go get the ladder for you. Help yourself to some whiskey, if you’d like.”

I watch him leave the room, too surprised to say another word.

Kingston

I’m going straight to hell for this. Ella is probably the best damn maid the cleaning service has ever sent to work here, and finding a few dusty books was the best I could do to get her into my office.

And why have I brought her into my office?

Answer: I’m a sick, old fuck. A creepy old man obsessed with his son’s…dalliance? Girlfriend? What do I call her?

I know exactly what to call her: a gem who is too damned good for him.

She’s too good for me, too.

And that’s precisely why I’m going to burn for manufacturing a reason to bring her closer.

The stepladder is in the cleaning supply closet. I inhale deeply as I step inside, wondering if I’ll pick up the scent of her in here. I get a nose-full of cleaning chemicals, which is exactly what I deserve.

Filthy old man.

I pull out the stepladder and carry it directly back to my office. Ella’s standing exactly where I left her. I don’t think she’s moved an inch.

“Not interested in the whiskey?” I ask her as I set up the ladder next to the bookcase.

“Oh, um.” She rolls her lips together. “Maybe another time.”

“Sure,” I say easily, trying to keep my voice light.

Ella triggers my Dominant side, a part of myself that I usually keep well under control.

I only allow this side of myself to show in certain situations.

My ex-wife told me I scared her sometimes.

She wasn’t into the scene, and when my true self came out, she didn’t understand.

I return to my desk and read through a few emails. It’s all reports and questions from managers, things I could easily put off until tomorrow morning. But I’m not going to put it off, not when I can stay here and watch little Ella navigate the stepladder and dust the bookcase.

It’s so quiet in my office, I can hear the creak of the ladder as she shifts her weight one way and then the other, stretching to reach the shelves.

It takes all my self-control not to check out her legs as her dress travels up her thighs with each stretch she makes.

I swear, the dress was designed to be the least flattering thing ever, yet Ella can wear it and make it look good.

The words on the computer screen blur in front of me. I’m hyperconscious of Ella across the room, of the whiskey on my lips and the burning of my blood in my veins. I want that little girl so fucking bad.

And I can’t have her.

I exhale slowly.

She starts to move down from the top step of the ladder.

“Why didn’t you want any whiskey?” I ask.

My voice sounds loud and sudden, and it startles her. I see the moment she starts to tip on the ladder.

Fuck. I’m running over to her before I even know what’s happening, and the ladder tips one way, then the other. Ella pinwheels her arms, trying to keep her balance. She doesn’t make a sound, just flails for something to brace herself with. Her arm knocks into the edge of the shelf with a loud bang.

“Hold onto the shelf,” I bark as I reach her and wrap my arms around her legs.

She grabs the shelf and stabilizes. She lets out a shaky laugh. I do, too, because I’m relieved the little one didn’t fall and get hurt.

“Are you all right?” I ask.

“Yes, I think so.”

I lift her easily, not even thinking about what I’m doing. My only thought is to get her on the ground where she’ll be safe and I can check her arms for bruises. Her weight feels so fucking good in my arms as I gently set her down.

“Am I interrupting something?” a wry voice says from the doorway.

Ella lets out a little squeal of surprise, and I stifle the growl I want to let out at the sight of Sebastian leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his face.

He has the worst timing, and the bastard knows it.

Sebastian

Well, well, well.

I didn’t know I’d walk into my friend’s office to find him getting freaky with an employee, but hell, I’m not disappointed.

Except a minute into my interruption, I realize it isn’t nearly as fun as it looked at first. The two of them jump apart as if they’ve been caught doing something illegal.

I could see why she might leap away, but King normally wouldn’t allow it.

If this were a normal situation for us, he’d coax her back into his arms—or order her back into them—and I’d watch them fuck, or join in.

But sadly for my cock, which is aching for this little maid, he doesn’t do any of that.

“She nearly fell off the ladder,” Kingston says, a no-nonsense expression on his face.

“Lucky you were here to catch her,” I say. What the fuck is going on? I’m not able to get a clear read on this.

“Are you okay?” he asks her.

“Yes, thank you. Thank you for not letting me fall.”

“Of course.”

There’s definitely a tension in the air—a sexual tension. They want each other, and to me, it’s easy to see.

Now I know why Kingston hasn’t been interested in casual hook-ups. He’s got his eye on this little maid. I wonder how long this has been going on.

“I need to do the rest of my rounds,” she says, her cheeks stained pink with a blush.

Fuckin’ adorable. I wonder if her neck and chest get pink when she’s aroused. I’d love to suck and bite on those little titties and watch what happens to her skin. And then I’d turn her ass a nice shade of pink with some well-placed spankings.

“You could stay,” I say to her. “We’re heading to Vice for drinks.”

King shakes his head at me even while the maid stumbles over her words.

“Oh, no. No, I couldn’t,” she says. “But, um, thank you anyway.”

I unashamedly watch her ass swaying in that awful dress as she leaves King’s office. As soon as she’s out of sight and out of earshot, I turn to my best friend.

“What the fuck? Why didn’t you help me out with her?” I point to the comfortable sitting area off to one side of his office. “We could’ve been getting her naked on that couch right now.”

King’s office isn’t our usual place to play with women, but I can already picture how good she’d look sitting on his lap and riding him, with her ass ready for my cock.

He gives a bitter laugh. “You want to know why I’m not fucking her?”

“Yes, asshole, that’s what I asked.”

“I’m not fucking her because she’s fucking Joel.”