His Forever

6

Alisa

Finding Drey's house the next morning would have been more challenging if I had not woken up to a message giving me his address and a command not to be late. The message had not so much as a 'good morning,' added to it. But of course, I would have been surprised to see a good morning message from the leader of all arrogant jerks. 

Another reason you should stay away. 

I kept my dress simple and professional, tagging along a pair of leggings, some simple jewelry of just my stud earrings, and little to no makeup. My hair was let down to assume its natural stretch. 

Despite the time I left home, I knew I could count on New York's traffic to make me ate and it did not let me down. 

Almost an hour later, we were driving through one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Manhattan. The car stopped in front of the building with the number I had been given, but I was already a few minutes late. After paying the driver, I rushed out and instantly regretted not carrying my coat on such a cold morning.

All the buildings were so large and tall that if I looked up too long, I would start to feel dizzy. I walked to the monitor and drew in a breath then, said a silent prayer 'please today be good.' I buzzed the monitor and announced my arrival. "Good morning Mr. Carlson,  It's Alisa." A few seconds later, he unlocked the door to his apartment, and I entered.

His apartment was everything I thought it would be. It screamed luxury with a hint of masculinity. It was spacious and ornate with warm colors. From the living room, you could see the entire city and the ocean line. I gasped at how serene and beautiful it looked in the early morning sun.

My phone chimed again, and I looked to see another text from him.

The kitchen is on your left. I like my coffee strong and with no milk and 1 teaspoon of sugar. Bring it up to the second floor through the elevator.

Such a show stopper. After sending two texts, he clearly would not take the initiative to say good morning, so I decided to.

"Good morning to you too sir." He read it almost immediately but did not reply. I just shrugged and followed the direction to the kitchen. I did not have to pretend to be nice if he would be so rude. 

Just like the rest of the house, the kitchen was sophisticated and spacious. I easily found the coffee maker, which was the only thing left on the counter. But it was a model I had never seen or used before. There were so many buttons, and I could only tell which was the power button. It took me a few minutes, but I finally found a helpful video on this particular model from YouTube. I dropped my phone on the counter, ready to play the video when a deep guttural voice startled me.

"You could have simply asked me how to use it."

I jumped, clutching my chest, and turned around to find him in the doorway, a towel hanging dangerously loose around his waist. From the way his damp hair fell across his face, I knew he was fresh out of the shower. He reached a hand up and pushed the hair back from his face. Drops of water glistened over his beautiful skin, and his broad shoulders and chest were clearer.

His chiseled abs narrowed to his hips, forming a V. He looked like he stayed at the gym all day, every day, and I could not stop myself from thinking about all the ways he could hold me with those strong arms. Against his well-built body, or a wall or even here on his kitchen counter anywhere as long as he held me with those arms.

 Earlier, when he had his clothes on, I thought he was powerfully built, but that was a major understatement because this man standing here in front of me was a freaking s*x god. I tasted blood on my tongue, and it took me a moment to realize the blood was mine resulting from biting down on my lips too hard. It started bleeding, so I licked my lips to stop the blood from running down my dress, and I could feel his fiery blue eyes piercing into me.

I had to tear my eyes away from this temptation wrapped in a towel that was sending really dirty thoughts through my mind. I cleared my throat lightly, and with all the effort I could muster, I averted my eyes away from his body to the coffee maker.

"I did not want to disturb you," I said and picked my phone off the counter.

I thought I had regained my composure, but then he walked over and turned on the coffee maker, and in seconds he had that dizzying effect on me again. He reached for the cupboard above me to get a pack of coffee, and his towel was now dangling carelessly from his hips. There was nothing I would not do to be able to reach out and rub my hand against his 5'oclock shadow.

I needed to put some distance between us, or I would end up in a pool of unattainable s****l desire. I swallowed hard and took two steps away from him.

"You need to come closer if you want to learn how to make my coffee the way I like," he said without looking at me.

I took a step towards him and commanded my body to stay focused. He gave me a pack of coffee and started giving instructions on how to brew the coffee. I did everything the way he asked while he leaned on the counter watching me with folded arms. I could have sworn I saw him smirking, with his eyes locked on my ass when I turned around a few times. 

After a few minutes, I finished making it, and I handed it to him. He took the mug from me, never taking his eyes off me. I stood there in front of him like a child waiting to be scolded. After taking a long slow sip, he grimaced, and before I could ask why, he turned around and threw the coffee into the sink.

"What did you do that for?" I asked, not bothering to hide how upset that made me.

"It was terrible, too strong, and clearly, you do not understand what one teaspoon of sugar means."

"You could have at least pretended to like it, it can not have been so awful."

He just shrugged and walked past me to make the coffee himself. I watched as he did the exact thing I did for the first coffee. The same steps and the same quantities. Such an asshole. 

A few minutes later, he finished making the coffee, and he turned around to face me with an unreadable expression. "I expect much better than that," he gestured to the sink. "tomorrow." He made his way to the door and with the mug of coffee in his hand. "Follow me. I need to get dressed then show you around. We have a busy day ahead."

Feeling already embarrassed enough, I just nodded and followed him into the lift. It was my first day on the job, and I had not even spent an hour with him, yet he had somehow managed to ruin my mood.

Inside the elevator, Drey leaned on the mirror and crossed his legs. In this position, the towel left little to the imagination, and I could see his very strong thigh. Just a few more inches down and the towel would fall out of use. I locked my legs together to prevent the wetness forming between my legs.

He smiled wryly and licked his lips, and my mind wandered to how his tongue would taste on mine and how they would feel between my legs or how his lips would feel on my hard n*****s.

I wanted to blame Ron for introducing those erotic romance novels to me, but deep down, I knew this was all on me. I had never had s*x before.

Don't get me wrong, I was not a hapless virgin waiting for a 'Mr. Right' to come f**k her after marriage. s*x just never happened. Maybe because I never liked meeting new people. It was always just me and my books the way I liked it. I did spend some of my free time reading those erotic novels on reading apps, and now I had become this s****l mess that was shamelessly fantasizing about her boss right in front of him. I shook my head as if it would wipe away all the dirty images I'd created in my head. It didn't. 

When the lift stopped, I could not get out fast enough. A few more minutes in there, and I wouldn't have been able to control my body anymore. He was not even gentleman enough to wait for me to leave first. It was like the heavens were giving me clear warnings to stay away, but of course, I was either too blind to see them or I just did not want to listen. 

We walked down the hallway and passed about a dozen doors before we got to one that looked different from the rest.

His bedroom.

He opened the door and walked in. I stood at the door, not wanting to be in a more tempting situation with him. Now I knew I could not control my body around him. He stopped and turned around, then looked at me with raised brows. "Come in," he growled.

"I'd rather wait here," I replied.

"I was not asking. We have a few things to discuss, and you already wasted enough of my time making me wait for my coffee."

"Maybe tomorrow you could get up and make it yourself. You clearly know the how," I bit back, adding a sarcastic "sir." and topped it with a fake smile.

He responded with a throaty laugh that was both sexy and annoying as if I'd just said a funny joke and turned his back, heading further into the room. 'Hmm, so he does laugh after all.' I thought to myself.

"You're still at the door." He said with his back to me.

Yeah, that. I didn't have a choice. Maybe I would be able to leave here with my dignity intact if I stood as far away from him as possible. I took a few steps in and left the door open.

"Shut the door." He commanded.

Now there was no way I would not leave here with my panties soaked or worse, completely removed.

He entered the bathroom, and I was glad to be able to think clearly again with him out of sight. Maybe he should walk around with a label that said WARNING: CONTENT IS NOT ONLY A MAJOR JERK BUT IS ALSO HIGHLY AROUSING. STAY AWAY!!!

I inwardly reprimanded myself for wanting someone with such a dislikeable personality. He was an impolite arrogant bastard, yet, I had never been drawn to anyone like I was drawn to him, and I had barely known him for 2 days. I really needed to put some control over my body.

"Open the closet and pick out an outfit for today." He called from the bathroom, and from the vibrating sounds, I could tell he was shaving.

I walked into the walk-in closet and opened one of the cabinets. I was instantly amazed at how many suits he had. Does he not have any casual clothes? Stupid question, because a man like Drey Carlson did not know what it meant to be casual.

The collections of suits in his wardrobe made it a difficult task but I finally picked out a blue 3-piece suit and dropped it on the king-sized bed. I could only hope he would not hate this one too just like the coffee. The vibrating sound in the bathroom came to a slow halt and I did not bother to give thought to the implication as I went back and forth from the closet to the bed, picking out each outfit. 

I found his ties in a separate drawer, and just like his suits, he had a hell lot of ties too. They were all beautifully arranged in the order of color, he seemed to like having things kept in a certain order. It was a trait I admired, but sadly his other not so admirable traits surpassed that. 

One of the ties caught my attention. It was my dad's favorite color. Claret-red with white dots. I reached for it, holding it to my chest as I ran the smooth silk between my fingers. I found myself relishing the way it brushed softly, just like it always did when I would help dad fix his tie. I gave a small smile at the distant memory and sucked in a sharp breath ready to keep the tie back. 

The warmth of someone breathing behind me as I reached to place the tie back, suddenly made me high on alert. I turned around to find him barely inches away from me, with that smug look of satisfaction. He put his hands on either side of the drawer trapping me in between. His large form towered over me, and I felt so small under him. The smell of his shaving cream still hovered in the air. 

He was so close, too damn close, and I struggled to keep my hand from reaching out to touch him.

"Vest," He said in a husky voice dripped with eroticism and lust, without moving or taking his eyes off me.

"Hmm?"

"My vest." 'Oh yeah, he was asking for his vest, not that you kiss him Lisa' the rational side of me reminded.

"Oh yeah, um your vest." I stuttered

I turned around and ransacked the drawer for the vests. Now I was too tensed, and from the heat on my cheeks and neck, I knew I was as red as a tomato. I hoped he would not think I was drunk with the way I was acting. Although he probably already knew how intoxicating his presence was for me.

He pressed his hard moist body into my back and my core clenched as the pools of lust forming grew even deeper. He reached for the drawer below the one I had been frantically searching, revealing the neatly folded vests.

"Oh, okay, they're here," I said, trying to say something to reduce the awkwardness of the situation. He, on the other hand, was too calm. Of course, he would not do so much as flinch, while he made me squirm at his presence. 

His clean-shaven chin was now on my neck, and I knew that my brain was no longer working at that point. My thighs had become so moist, and locking my legs did nothing to stop it now.

I heard him say, "pick one out," but the voice was distant, or maybe, I had drifted into another world, a world very different from reality. He finally picked out a white vest, chuckled, and turned back to the bathroom, leaving me in a world of my own fantasies.

With him gone, I took some time, but I could finally think straight again. What the hell was that all about? How had I let myself fall so easily? I couldn't do this job if just his presence would continuously turn me into a s****l mess. I was still there thinking about what had just happened, then he strode out with boxer briefs and the vest he had taken earlier, an amused grin on his face. I was not surprised to see that he found it amusing to mess with my head.

As he picked up the dress shirt and threw it on, I charged at him furiously. "What the hell was that about?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"You know what I'm talking about, so don't even play that game with me." I retorted.

Now he had his pants on, and he was putting the belt through the belt hoop "First off, I was only getting my vest since you were being so slow."

I rolled my eyes said. "You could have simply said 'excuse me'. Do you always have your private assistant in the room with you when you dress up for work?"

He just disregarded my question and continued.

"Secondly, I don't like your tone. No one talks to me that way. Do you understand me?" This time he sounded really serious, but I didn't care. If he was going to disregard my comments and not answer my questions, I too could do the same.

To think that we were still on the first day. Maybe I had made a mistake with this job. 

Without answering him, I walked past him and headed for the door. In a second, his hand flew and grabbed mine. His fingers dug painfully into my flesh as he yanked me close enough for me to breathe in his minty breath.

"Do you f*****g understand me?" He roared.

"Yes," I whispered, trying to hold back my tears from rolling down my cheeks.

"Louder."

"Yes sir," I said in a timid but louder voice.

"Good." He said and released my hand. The place where he held me was now red and sore from his grip.

He went back to the drawer and pulled out the third drawer. "Now we have a few things to talk about." He brought out a Macbook and a few other devices and dropped them on the bed. "Those are yours."

"I've got a phone and a computer already." I didn't even bother looking up from my sore hand as I smoothed my fingers over it.

"Doesn't matter. You have to have this phone on at all times. For now, it has mine and Liam's number, but when your car comes in a few days, it should only have my number in it." He said, now knotting his tie.

"My car?" My brows furrowed. 

"Yes. You need a car. Your house is a few miles away, and I can't have you coming late every day like you did today."

"I can manage."

"Again, it doesn't matter."

I didn't know what he was doing, but if he thought he could buy me with an outrageous salary or by flaunting his wealth in my face, he had another thing coming for him.

"It's bad enough you are paying me such an outrageous amount for this job. Now new devices, and a car? I don't know who you think you are but let me make one thing clear I am not a w***e, and I will not be bought."

"I would have imagined you would be worth more than a few hundred thousand dollars. Anyways take it a compensation for all the workload I will put you through." he said, "And I would also like to make it clear that I don't sleep with my employees."

"Well, I don't need your compensation."

"You confuse want with need, Miss Emmerson. You might not want this, but you do need it given your current situation."

"What do you mean by that?"

He leaned into my face and said "I mean you are broke with a sick dad and a debt of more than 60,000 dollars. So yes, you need my compensation."

I could feel the bile rising in my throat. How could he just break down the major event of my life into a few emotionless words so easily? And he was not nearly done yet.

"And even if you want to leave this job so badly, even if you hate the way I treat you, you can't leave, and you won't because we both know that no company here in Manhattan would employ you with half the amount of benefits I would. Don't get me wrong, I'm not judging you. We all have our problems. I am simply stating the facts here."

How could he be so mean to me without blinking an eye? And his words stung so much because every word he said was true. But that did not change the resentment I felt towards him. "Let's get one thing straight. I hate you. I really, really hate you."

He just shrugged and put on his suit jacket "You would not be the first," he picked up the gadgets and handed them to me "or the last."

I took the gadgets despite myself and turned to leave the room, but he stopped me.

"We're not done yet."

Without a word, I turned around and faced him. Apparently, he would not even let me go and cry in peace. He brought out two pairs of shoes from his closet and asked which would be better. The one on the left would've looked perfect with his outfit, and the one on the right would've looked ridiculous with his outfit, so I told him to choose the one on the right. That's right, I could be a b***h too.

"Nice try," he said, putting that one back "but I think we both know I should go with this one." he raised the shoe on his left hand up and sat on the bed to put it on. "Do you have a car preference?"

"No, I don't." I lied. I always wanted to own a Mercedes. But I was not about to have him buy me that. If I would ever have the car of my dreams, it would be with my own money. Not as a charity.

"Are you lying to me?" he questioned in a way that made me think he knew the answer to that already.

"What does it matter?"

"You need to be honest with me."

"And have my hands clawed at again? No thank you." my hand was still hurting, and I made a mental note to check it out later.

He stood up and took my hand, rubbing the spot where he had left a mark despite my protest. "About your hand, it'll be fine it's just a scratch. Use an ointment, and you'll feel better." His touch sent an electric wave coursing through me. And when he dropped my hand, I wished he would pick it up again.

I did not understand how he could switch from mean and uncaring to softhearted and gentle in a minute. "If you obey me and don't keep pissing me off, I might consider being nicer to you in the future."

There's the asshole that I know I thought. He went to the dressing table and looked in the mirror fixing his hair. "Call up Liam and tell him to have the car ready in 5 minutes. For now, we'll use my car, and later in the week, your car would be coming in."

"I don't have Liam's number."

"Have you checked your new phone?"

I let out a frustrated breath and left to give Liam a call.