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Until I got a message from an unknown number, with a picture of the cutest, curviest little thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, poured into a silky silver dress and asking for reassurance that she looked alright.
In the picture, she looked shy, but all I could think about was what was underneath that dress. Then, my phone suggested I add her contact, pulling the name from my email apparently. It read,Add Contact-Candace Bennett?And it suddenly occurred to me why she was familiar. I had interviewed Ms. Bennett months ago, and while she had nearly glowed through the computer screen, young and ambitious, I had forgotten about her until she texted me by accident.
There was just something about her sweet demeanor and her quick, almost panicked apology that spoke to me on a visceral level. This was a young woman who cared so much about her job that she agonized over the smallest things, even down to what she wore to work events, and I recalled that her writing samples were stellar as well.
At first, I told myself that I was just teasing when I texted her back flirtatiously, but all that went out the window when I saw her in person walking into the Mayflower Hotel ballroom.
Candace was joy, beauty, and determination all rolled into one small package, nibbling her lip as our eyes met across the ballroom. I left the people I was talking to mid-conversation and approached her, and as I did so, our future played out in my mind like a movie. Taking Candace to bed, putting a baby in her, marrying her, and growing old together.
It felt bizarre for all of that to hit me so fast, and it still does, but I’ve never been more certain in my life. She gazed at me with big brown eyes, caramel-colored curls falling over her shoulders, and I was lost.
Candace is mine, and I became even more sure of that fact as we danced, her soft body against my hardness, and when I kissed her irresistibly pouting mouth before watching her walk into her apartment. I had to clench my fists to stop myself from opening the car door and following her inside. But I can’t overwhelm her. It will have to be a careful seduction so I don’t frighten her.
I also refuse to even think about the fact that she technically works for me. That’s inconsequential. Once Candace is mine, she’ll never have to work another day in her life. She will want for nothing under my roof.
The celebratory dinner had been on a Sunday, and it took all my willpower to interact with her minimally throughout the week. It isn’t like I’m ignoring her—the fresh flowers on her desk and the constant stream of texts we share are indications of that, but we haven’t seen each other in person for almost a week when I finally ask her to the opera Friday morning. I tell her I’ll pick her up Saturday evening, and to my surprise, she agrees easily enough.
My plan to have her craving my attention by the end of the work week seems to have paid off.
I don’t tell her that I’ll be sending her a new dress and shoes for the event, but Candace deserves a little surprise now and then. I smile into my morning coffee, thinking about her face when she receives the package.
Candace doesn’t mention the dress over text, but when she descends the stairs of her apartment to meet me, she’s wearing it, and it makes the possessive side of me surge to life. Seeing her in something I provided is a heady feeling, and just like I thought, it fits her like a glove.
Pale, buttery gold, the dress is strapless and fitted to the waist where it flares out to the floor, a long slit up the side showing me that she had decided to leave her legs bare of any pantyhose. Candace’s ample cleavage spills out of the bodice, but she only tugs at the neckline self-consciously once.
Good. I want her to be on display for me.
Now, she’s sitting beside me in the back of my private car, smelling like vanilla, clearly nervous, but when she glances up at me through her lashes, Candace looks both excited and enamored.
“What’s on your mind, my lovely Candace?” I ask her, taking her hand in mine and brushing my lips across her knuckles.
“A lot,” she admits with a soft laugh. “I’m flattered that you wanted me to be your date tonight, Cannon, but are you sure this isn’t going to be a problem?”
“Let those thoughts go for tonight. It’s just you and me. I’m looking forward to the opera tonight. We'll be seeingLa Traviata, one of the most famous operas of all time.”
“I’m sure this is no surprise to you, but I've never been to an opera before.” She smiles up at me. “What's it about?”
“It's a tragic love story about a courtesan named Violetta who is forced to choose between her love for Alfredo, a young nobleman, and her duty to society.” I graze my hand up her leg, over the silk of her dress, and my tuxedo feels suddenly restrictive. I wish we’re both wearing less, and my lust for her sneaks into my voice. “I can't wait for you to experience it for yourself.”
Candace’s voice is thready as she answers, “That sounds really interesting. So, what happens in the story?”
“I don’t want to spoil it for you, so I’ll try to be vague.” Candace nods, leaning towards me more and into my touch, content to listen and let me caress her. “Violetta and Alfredo fall in love and plan to run away together, but Violetta's health is failing and she knows she won't be able to keep up with Alfredo's lifestyle. She makes the selfless decision to leave him, hoping it will protect him from the scandal of being associated with a courtesan.”
“Wow, that's so sad,” Candace says soberly. “Do they end up together in the end?”
“You’ll have to see for yourself, but it’s safe to say that the opera is full of heartbreak and sorrow. But it also has some of the most beautiful and romantic music you'll ever hear. I can't wait to see the look on your face when you hear it for the first time.”
My hand has reached her lower back now, and I pull her closer to me, leaning in until our lips are almost touching. Candace’s breaths come shallowly. “And who knows? Maybe it will even inspire you to fall in love yourself.” I breathe against her lips, only indulging in the kiss when the word ‘love’ makes her melt against me with a sigh.
Candace’s mouth tastes like the sweetest sugar, and it’s a struggle to keep the kisses light and playful when I want to kiss her hard and deep. But we’ve arrived, and my driver is idling outside the Seattle Opera House, waiting patiently for us to exit.
When I pull away from Candace, she makes a disappointed noise, but the separation makes her realize that the car isn’t moving anymore. She looks embarrassed but allows me to take her hand and help her out of the car once I’ve exited myself.
Before we enter, I stop, and she stops with me since we are hand in hand. There is something I simply must tell her, and now it’s so urgent out of nowhere that I have to speak. I don’t know why I can’t hold my tongue any longer, but so be it.
“Candace, before we go any further, I need to know that you’re aware I consider youmine.I know it’s a lot in a short amount of time, but I’m not a man that does things casually. Can you handle that?”
Her eyes go wide, but relief surges through me when she nods once, determination shining in her eyes. “Yes, I think I can.”
