He thought about Ursula. Stephen wanted to be able to go to her at a moment’s notice and knew if he drank that would be impossible. Turning away from the drink, he took a cold shower before climbing into bed.
Thinking about Ursula sent a stirring deep inside him. Right now she was probably lying with her boyfriend. His hands fisted in the blanket as he thought of that ass**le touching her. Would she moan her pleasure like she did for him?
Stephen went to sleep, his anger sizzling beneath the surface at the image of Ursula with another man. No woman had ever made him angry. What was it about her that made him react in such a way?
Chapter Four
Two weeks passed without any problems. Winter was taking hold, and Ursula hated walking home in the cold. She didn’t want to ask for a ride. Stephen was always busy. Their conversation had been reserved to talking about world events, meaning the financial crisis and how she was getting on at school.
The teasing had stopped to be replaced by seriousness. He never asked about Paul, and for that she was grateful. Paul hadn’t touched her since the wrist incident. She knew something would happen soon. Every time he came to bed and tried it on, she rebuffed him complaining of a headache.
After college, she walked to Stephen’s house to find several cars in the driveway. She opened the door, putting her coat and bag away in the places he’d told her. Placing her key in the pot next to his, she walked down the hall. The sound of voices coming from his office made her stop. She stood in the doorway. Five men and Stephen were seated, talking. He looked up and smiled. She couldn’t help it. She smiled back at him.
“If I knew you didn’t have anything to do but chat I’d have demanded a lift as well,” she said.
“I already pay you well.”
“You get your money’s worth out of me, and we both know it. Am I cooking for more than two?” she asked, turning her attention to the other men.
“Who are you?” the one with dark hair and a curious frown asked her.
“The cleaner and cook.” She felt all of their eyes on her. “Do you guys want a drink?” Ursula turned her gaze back to Stephen. “You’re being incredibly rude, or does your staff not get an introduction?” She folded her arms under her br**sts.
“Ursula Mills, I’d like you to meet Cadeon, Sean, Tate, Kevin, and Lucas. Guys, I’d like you to meet my soon-to-be-fired cleaner-slash-cook, Ursula.”
She shook their hands before giving him a scowl. “You can’t fire me.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“You like me too much. You’d be lost without me, and you know it.” She turned away moving to the kitchen. The men said something, and Stephen’s unmistakable scolding voice sounding. She rubbed her arms suddenly feeling the chill.
She made a drink keeping her head bowed, trying to keep the tears locked inside her. Stephen’s arms came round on either side of the counter locking her in place. “Why are you crying?” he asked. Touching her cheeks she felt the wetness of her tears.
“I don’t know.” He took hold of her arm, turning her to face him. His knuckles grazed her cheek, wiping away her tears.
“I don’t like seeing these,” he said.
“Why didn’t you want to introduce me to your friends?” she asked. It was stupid. She was his employee. Their relationship meant nothing out of the bounds of him being her boss.
He cupped her cheek, tilting her head back to stare into her eyes. She felt the pull of his gaze, the tightness in her body alerting her to his closeness. He wasn’t close enough. The obsession she was beginning to feel about him was scaring her. There was no way Stephen could ever be hers.
“They’re part of a whole other world. When we’re here, you’re no one else’s.” The words confused her.
“Whose am I?” she asked.
“Mine.”
Someone let out a cough making them break apart. She quickly made the drink, taking it into the other room. The men stared at her as she placed the drinks down in front of them. “There is sugar if you want it.”
“What if we want coffee?” one of them asked.
“You didn’t ask, and you get what you’re given.” She left them alone, doing her chores. For dinner she made them all a sandwich. When Stephen asked her where hers was, she mentioned getting back to her boyfriend. He glared at her, but she left without looking back. It was early, and she decided to take a walk in the park. Her thoughts were all jumbled up. Someone bumped into her causing her to fall on her ass.
“I-I-I’m sorry,” the girl said, helping her to her feet.
“Don’t worry.” Ursula stood brushing herself down then looked at the girl in front of her. She gasped. The woman looked like death. Her hands were shaking, and her hair looked ready to fall out. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” The woman walked away. Ursula didn’t know whether to follow her or not. When the woman disappeared into the darkness, Ursula carried on moving towards her home. Paul wasn’t an incentive to get home quickly. She took as long as she could before her fingers were too cold to stand being outside in the cold.
She entered their apartment. The stench of alcohol and cheap pizza assailed her. She was beginning to find everything associated with Paul repulsive.
“Have you been f**king your lover?” Paul sneered. Ursula turned to see the card Stephen had given her in his hands.
“What are you talking about?” she asked. Dropping her bag on the chair, she removed her coat then faced him again.
“You’re out of the house. You don’t want me to f**k you anymore. What’s going on? I’m not good enough for your ugly face?” he growled.
She rolled her eyes, feeling more angry than scared. “Leave me alone. You’ve been drinking again instead of getting off your own fat ass and looking for another job?” Placing her hand on her hips, she glared at him. In light of everything going on around her, she saw the man before her in a new light. How could she have put up with him for so long? He was a self-centred, lazy-ass bastard. Her parents’ warnings ran through her mind. At the time when they’d voiced them she thought they were being difficult. Now she saw what they did. “I want you out of my apartment. We’re through.” She threw his crap at him feeling angry at herself for living with such an ungrateful loser. “Get your shit, and get out.”
“This is my place,” he yelled.
“Yeah. I’m the one who has been paying the rent. I paid for this f**king furniture. The landlord put the place in my name seeing as I was paying for everything. You were already close to losing it anyway.”