That Friday after you get off of school and your shift is over, you drive to Brendon’s house and decide to spend the night with him. He smiles, kissing you on the lips before taking you to the ballroom, putting on a track and singing to you every word. You could drown in his voice, the way he sounds like satin sheets and bourbon making your head reel. The two of you sway around the ballroom, hands on hips and lips on lips, giggling and smiling and singing. You begin to complain that you feel dizzy, you blame it on him twirling you around so much, so he laughs and decides it’s time for a snack. He then carries you to the kitchen and you both munch on some homemade trail mix, you picking out the marshmallows and Brendon glaring at you playfully as he munches on some almonds.
“How was school today?” he asks.
“Alright,” you shrug.
“And work?” he wonders.
“Pretty good. The tips get me by,” you explain.
“Do you enjoy it?” he frowns.
“Yes sir,” you nod.
“You don’t have to call me that anymore,” he laughs. “I’m not your boss.”
“But you’re still my master,” you wink.
He draws his lower lip between his teeth, looking at you. “Guess you’re right,” he hums, smirking. “Smart girl.”
You catch the eye of the chef who glances at both of you as he washes the dishes, then as he quickly turns off the water and leaves the room when Brendon leans in to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Hey,” you soften your voice. “Are we alright?”
“What do you mean? Of course we’re alright,” he smiles. “I mean, you are? Aren’t you?”
“No, like… Your workers,” you clarify. “I assume they know about us by now. But like, are they alright with all of this? Do they know about, you know… everything?”
“They’ve all sworn not to tell,” Brendon explains, running a hand through your hair. “It’s part of the contract, I’m entitled to my own privacy as well as any other guests of the home. What happens here stays here.”
“The chef was kind of looking at us uncomfortably,” you murmur. “I think they’re starting to catch on.” You pause, hesitant. “I mean, who all knows?”
“The maids, the chef, the gardener, the butler, the chauffer-” Brendon begins to count on his fingers and you feel sick to your stomach.
“How do you know they won’t tell?” you insist.
“How do you know that we’re safe?”
“It’s going to be okay,” Brendon soothes.
“Nobody’s talked to me about it yet.”
“Yet,” you bring up. “We’ve been together for several months now, something’s bound to happen.”
“Why do you always have to talk like that?” he groans. “You’re such a pessimist. Do you ever think just maybe we can enjoy what we have for a while?”
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I Love Her Anyway
FanfictionI Love Her Anyway is a smut series fic in which the female reader is a young intern applying for Urie Incorporated contracting company who quickly falls mesmerized with her handsome employer, a prestigious businessman and CEO of the company with muc...
