KIER
"Mr. Blackwood, your three o'clock meeting will commence soon," my PA, Rachel, said over the intercom.
"Thank you, Rachel," I replied, settling back into my chair. I closed my eyes and gazed at the glass wall that overlooked the city.
As I sat there, my thoughts drifted back home. I had left the house early this morning—she was still sleeping when I left. I couldn't help but watch her for a moment, like a creep, mesmerized by the way her brow furrowed in her sleep, as if trapped in a nightmare.
I reached out and smoothed her brow. Just as I was about to pull my hand away, she reached out and grasped it. I found myself frozen, her hand wrapped around mine, holding me tight until she slipped deeper into sleep, her grip loosening just enough for me to gently pull away.
Leaving her had been harder than usual. No pun intended, but I wanted nothing more than to stay and watch her sleep. Still, I had to leave, knowing she'd be fine for a while longer.
"Sir, the meeting is about to begin," Rachel's voice broke me from my reverie. I stood immediately, straightened my suit, ran a hand through my hair, and made my way to the conference room.
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The Conference Room
"Let's get straight to the point," I said, pacing slightly. "The new product line is ahead of schedule, but we need to ensure the marketing team is aligned with our global vision."
Rachel, the marketing lead, nodded. "We're on track for the international launch, sir."
I glanced at the finance team. "Costs need to be tightened up. We can't afford to overspend on this expansion."
"Understood, sir," Claire replied, quickly jotting down notes.
Turning to the operations team, I added, "Keep the supply chain smooth. Any disruptions could cost us more than we can handle."
Everyone nodded, ready to execute. "Alright, let's make sure Blackwood stays ahead of the competition. No room for error."
By the time the clock hit six, the office was almost empty. Most of the staff had gone home, leaving me alone to finish up some documents that Rachel had sent over. After signing them, I saved the files, turned off my computer, and stood up.
I made my way over to the medicine cabinet—a cabinet that, contrary to its name, was stocked with alcohol. It was filled with the drinks my father used to like. Technically, this was still his office, as he hadn't fully stepped down yet.
I grabbed the bourbon, twisted off the cap, and, without wasting any time, threw it back. The burn of the alcohol hit me immediately, and I swallowed hard, my eyes watering. But I liked it. I stared out at the city skyline, feeling a sudden, unexpected urge to go home. I wondered what she would say about the tutor I'd arranged for her.
That itch to go home grew stronger, something I'd never experienced before. Never in my many years had I wanted to be home so badly.
Soon, I found myself slipping into the backseat of the car, telling Damon to speed up.
"Why are you in such a rush?" he asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. I didn't answer. Instead, I rolled up my sleeves, exposing my forearms, and stared out at the passing scenery.
"Just drive, will you?" I said, my voice laced with irritation.
Finally, we pulled into the estate, and my heart spiked. As soon as the car was parked, I wasted no time, quickly exiting the vehicle.
I strode towards the door, and as I opened it and stepped inside, she was coming down the last two stairs. The door faced the large spiral staircase, and she paused when she saw me. I closed the door behind me, almost slamming it into Damon's face.
He muttered a curse under his breath, but I didn't even spare him a glance. My focus was entirely on her. She wore one of the nightgowns I had gotten her—the soft fabric clinging to her curves, the pale color accentuating her glowing skin in the dim hallway light.
Her eyes locked onto mine, searching for something. Her lips remained still, as they always did. She had always communicated more with her eyes than most people could with words, and tonight was no different. Her gaze was soft, but I could sense the question lingering behind it.
Before I knew it, I was moving toward her. She mirrored my movements, taking slow steps toward me as well. When I reached her, she lowered her gaze to her bare toes. Without warning, she stood on tiptoe and kissed me on the cheek.
My eyes widened in surprise. But before she could pull away, I grabbed her, my hand resting on her soft, warm backside. A shiver ran through me when I realized she wasn't wearing any panties.
"Where is your underwear?" I asked, my voice rough. She trembled, looking up at me with wide eyes, then shook her head.
"Fuck," I muttered, my frustration building, before I lifted her effortlessly. Her legs wrapped around my waist, and my hand gripped her ass firmly.
"We're just doing this to make babies," I said, half to myself as I kissed her neck, my mind racing with the lie I was telling myself. I wasn't sure what had come over me.
Before we could make it to my room, I pressed her against the wall, ripping off my slacks, and in the next moment, I was thrusting into her warm heat.
She let out a long, breathy moan, and I grunted in response. Our foreheads pressed together, our eyes locked, the moment suspended between us.
"What the fuck is going on?" I murmured, but before she could respond, a small voice called out from behind us.
"What are you doing, Uncle Kier?"
Shit.
Daisy.