A Lockbox of Lust

Chapter One

    Kimberly woke with a jolt. Her breath came in quick labored pants, her skin was slick with sweat, limbs trembled in recollection of the dream, and her center pulsed with arousal. It was strange how a simple dream had her all worked up and it all started with the sexy Henry Halliday. All day she was able to keep her mind off that handsome hunk of man or at least pretend to, but when she closed her eyes, all bets were off. Henry was back in her head and ready to drag her mind into the gutter.
    Her mother had warned her of that man, told her to stay away from the devil's temptations. Always was a very religious woman, her mother. However, Kim couldn't just stay away from him, especially when she was the personal assistant of his mother's. She couldn't control her lewd thoughts. Damn, she couldn't even control her traitorous body, the way it heated and pulsed in his presence, undoubtedly knowing all that he could do to it.  
    Kimberly pushed back the thick covers that seemed to constrict her and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Turning off her heinous alarm clock, she looked around her room. The sun was still down and the room was still dark and dull. With a weary sigh, she slipped out of bed and crossed her room to the bathroom. One scalding shower was what the doctor ordered, in a way. She reached into the shower and twisted the faucet all the way up, it wasn't long before steam began rising and filling the bathroom.
    Next, she padded into her closet, picking out a simple blouse and slim-fitting pencil skirt. She didn't dress up for her job, even though she did work with one of the richest families in all of New York. Just work casual would suffice. She stripped down to nothing and returned to the bathroom, slipping into the shower and letting out a throaty moan. Yeah, that dingy little apartment was crap, but the shower was a-mazing. She thoroughly washed, rinsed, shaved, and went back to wash again. Only when her stomach began growling did she hop out. When she used to live with her family, she would have to fight her way to the bathroom and fight for her right to stay in. It was great not having anyone to share with, but rather lonely. She grabbed a thick, fluffy white towel and moved on to the sink.
    She quickly brushed her teeth and blow-dried her hair, combing it out and pulling it up into a severe ponytail. Like most girls, she was very self-conscious about the smallest details of her appearance, the color of her hair, for example. It was plain brown. No golden, no chestnut, no platinum. It was just plain, bland, regular brown.
    She left the bathroom and got dressed, slipping on a pair of black polka dot heels.
    Her stomach had woken up, stretched out, and roared from the lack of food. "It's time to eat breakfast. Time for food, Time to stuff my face." She chanted repeatedly. She opened her fridge only to find healthy foods. Protein, veggies, fruits, and other health foods adorned her shelves. "So..." She frowned. "My mom has visited." She said, with a hint of resentment. She went through a few cabinets, only finding tasteless snacks. "I see how it is, mom." She went back into her bedroom and rifled through her bedside table until she found her emergency stash of junk food. She knew her mother, she knew she was going to sneak attack her kitchen at some point. The woman disapproved of her health choices.
    That sly bitch, she hadn't even known her mother had visited. She was just that kind of mom, excessively involved in her daughter's life. Kim had given her mother a house key once, just for emergencies. Her mother had over used that key, forcing Kim to have to take it away. It wasn't until she took it away that she found out her mother had made several spares.
    She pulled out a granola bar, "See, mother, compromise. It's a granola bar dipped in caramel and chocolate, but STILL a granola bar." She ripped it open and took a big bite out of it. Mm...
    Then, it was time to leave. She grabbed her purse and phone, remembering her keys at the last minute. Cursing herself, she grabbed them and locked her front door. She practically ran down the flight of stairs, or, as much as you can run in a pair of six-inch pumps.
    Sitting in its designated parking spot sat her black beauty, insanely expensive (considering her income) and bloody fast. She jumped in and pulled out of the parking lot faster than you could ask where she was going. As the personal assistant to Ms. Halliday, she was responsible for getting to work on time, even if that happened to be at five in the morning. Ms. Halliday was both the CEO and owner of Halliday Interior Design. As a former poor girl, she knew that people like her didn't need to spend a fortune on having a room match. However, there were people out there who would spend thousands on having a person come into their home and saying what color throw pillows will match the drapes.
    Kimberly pulled into Ms. Halliday's driveway and swiftly climbed up the porch steps to Ms. Halliday's manor. The lights were off as though no one was home. That couldn't be right. The sound of her heels clicking along the wood planks was the only thing to hear. She knocked.
    No one answered.
    She knocked again, hoping for a different result.
    Still, no one answered.
    She knocked again, this time slightly harder and considerably irritated.
    The door yanked open, revealing a shirtless man clad in plaid pajama pants. "Yes?" He asked in a harsh gruff voice. Right when he saw her, his eyes softened. Only she made his eyes soften that way. Damn, why did he only soften for her? She pretended not to notice the small smile playing at the corner of his lips. His full kissable lips, lips she desperately wanted to nip and suck.
    Henry. She rolled her eyes, of course her one temptation in her bloody life would open the door barely clothed. "It's seven thirty." She snapped, tapping her wristwatch for emphasis.
    He understood her words, gesturing inside. She strolled in, careful not to accidentally brush against him. The smallest of contacts would fuel wet dreams for at least a week. The kind that made her body hum and arch in her sleep.
    "I'm sorry to say, but my mother has come down with something. She won't be coming to work." His voice sounded extra husky, as though he had just woken up. He probably had. Stupid her, she hadn't wanted to start her day off by waking Henry up.
    "I'm sorry; does that mean I will not be working today?" She asked, disappointed. She actually really enjoyed her job. Figuring out Ms. Halliday's schedule, sometimes helping with designs, but most importantly, Ms. Halliday was one of her best friends.
    "My mother asked for you to tend to her while in her sickness. I tried getting a house nurse, but she would have none of that. I told her she should have someone more experienced tending to her. You aren't afraid to be around a sick person, are you?" He asked.
    She shook her head. Upset that he would think her inexperienced. She was the eldest of nine children that her mother refused to care for. Nurturing others was second nature to Kim.
    "Good. Come with me. I'll lead you to her, and you'll spend the day tending to her, Alright, Kim?"
    Kim. The nickname only intimate people in her life chose to call her. Yet, the first day they met, he called her that damned name, and it felt good. It felt too damned right to be normal. That was the main reason she tried to keep her distance. Impressions were what she based her relationships off, but her first meeting with Henry proved exotic for her.  
    He had walked into the room and her body as a whole tingled and heated, like molten lava coursing through her veins. She had become hyper-aware of everything in the room, especially her pulse in her ears. He had strolled into the room with an air of confidence and a brisk "I'm needed elsewhere" in his stride. That would have been the reason she didn't like him, but then introductions began.
    Their eyes had locked. His had shone a shining caramel and that hard glint he had walked in with...had vanished. They had softened, as they always did when he looked at her. They had exchanged greetings and he had called her Kim. He'd said her name like it was the sweetest word he'd ever spoken, as if it was his newfound religion.
    She nodded, following behind him. They walked quickly up a large curved set of stairs down a long corridor. He moved so elegantly. The grace and fluid movement of his massive body mesmerized her. She could barely walk down the street without falling over herself. It took her years of practice to succeed in walking in heels.
    "Henry, baby." She heard the siren call of a female. She turned seeing a beautiful blonde standing in the doorway of a bedroom having nothing but a thin sheet wrapped around her. "When are you gonna come back to the room? I'm getting cold." She complained. The girl's crystal blue eyes landed on Kimberly and she scowled. Oh, look here. Henry 'baby' was entertaining guests. What a lucky bitch.
    "I'm coming back after I show this girl to my mother's room." He answered.
    The blonde girl decided that Kimberly was no threat to her and managed to flash Henry a brief smile. Of course, she thought Kim was no threat. If Kim looked like a walking Barbie doll, she wouldn't think anyone was a threat, but no. Kim looked like Barbie's less attractive sister, Stacie, and that was only on good days. "I'll be waiting." She purred, running a perfectly manicured finger over the swell of her breast. Kimberly could see the girl's nipples harden through the sheet.
    "Okay," Simple answer from Mr. Henry Baby.
    Kimberly was stunned. That hand gesture was pure seduction, yet Henry was unfazed by it. In Kimberly's dreams, if she had done something like that, Henry would have been all over her. She snapped out of her thoughts and saw Henry way ahead of her. She ran after him.
    "This is her room." He informed her. "You know what to do, right?"
    She nodded. Of course, she knew what to do. Her siblings constantly sickened, and who was there to nurse them back to health. Oh, right, Kim. Her mother had always worked; therefore, the responsibility of the other children had been hers. She was practically a mother herself at the age of thirteen.
    Kimberly watched Henry walk away. She knew that their 'relationship' could only stay within the confines of her head ever since she turned him down, yet she couldn't stop herself from feeling a pang of jealousy at the sight of a bare woman in his room. Not to mention a ridiculously beautiful, bare woman. Who cares? She thought to herself. You, you care! Traitor, she hissed to herself.
    Kimberly turned the knob to the bedroom and stepped inside. Heat enveloped her. What idiot had cranked the heater up? It was summer outside for goodness sake.
    "Is that you, Henry dear?" She heard Ms. Halliday's weak voice.
    "No, um, it's me." She answered.
    "Is that Kim I hear?" She asked, in a fragile voice, yet a hint of excitement.
    "Yep, I'm here." Kimberly pushed through a heavy curtain to find Ms. Halliday lying a top a mountain of sheets and pillows. Ms. Halliday smiled at the sight of her. "How are you this fine morning?" Kimberly asked.
    Ms. Halliday shrugged. "I'm burning up like an enchanted flame." She cracked a joke.
    "Do you want me to turn the air conditioning up, Ms. Halliday?" Kimberly asked.
    "There you go Ms. Halliday'ing me, Kimberly. It makes me feel old. I'm only forty-five. What if you just went around being called Ms. Jones all the time?" Ms. Halliday huffed, crossing her arms like an indignant child.
    Kimberly smirked. "Do you want me to turn up the air conditioning, 'Margaret'"?
    "No, I wanted to sweat three pounds off this morning. What do you think?" Margaret snapped, sarcastically.
    "Good to see you aren't that sick." Kimberly held back a giggle. She left Margaret's side to get some air in that room. She returned to Margaret. "Now, what will you have me do? I'll do anything to make you more comfortable."
    Margaret placed a finger on her chin, contemplating the extent of anything. "Would you be a dear and go make me some of that delicious zucchini bread you bring to work every Monday?" She asked opening her eyes wide, attempting to puppy dog Kim.
    Kim crossed her arms. "You want me to go make you bread? Do you know how long that takes? That's at least a half hour of work. In addition, you're sick. Zucchini bread's no good for sick people."
    Margaret shrugged. "Don't you want to satisfy the sick chick?" She exaggerated a cough and gave Kim a pointed look.
    "Fine, give me an hour and you'll get two loaves of zucchini bread. What will you do until then?" Kim asked.
    "Probably watch some soaps. Await your return. Oh, I know, I'll hop out of bed and go skiing." Margaret picked up the TV remote and turned on the television. Drama wasn't what Kim was interested in, but Kim would worship anything that made Margaret shut up. She noticed Kim still standing next to the bed and shooed her away. "Go make me some bread, woman."
    "Fine, I'm going." Kim laughed. She left the bedroom. Down the hall, she could hear the noise of muffled moans. Kim glared at Henry's bedroom door, how could he bring that dumb blonde-haired woman into his room? "Wait. Calm down, Kim." She told herself. He wasn't hers; she had no claim on him. The sudden sound of laughter exploded from the bedroom in question, making Kimberly grimace. No one should laugh so hysterically, ever! Okay, so, maybe she was being a little unreasonable. Okay. So, maybe a lot, but who was counting?
    Kim quickly ran past Henry's room, down the stairs, and into the huge kitchen. And there she found Henry himself, getting whipped cream out of a massive fridge.
    "Wha-" She sputtered. He looked at her questioningly. "I..." She tried thinking of something to say. "I thought you were in your room." She was talking with her hands, throwing them about. "I just assumed you know with all the noise," She mumbled embarrassed, nervously rubbing the back of her neck.
    "What?" He asked. As though he hadn't heard what she said.
    "Um, you know? The...noise, laughter," Kim blushed beet red. "Just forget it." She murmured.
    "Oh," He nodded. "That's Stephanie's noise. I've been in here getting a snack." He informed Kim. Of course, the beautiful girl had to have a great name, while Kim had an old person name. Kimberly. EWW! Stephanie, how about Steph-phony!
    Kim began laughing loudly like a delirious person. She couldn't believe that all he was doing was getting a quick snack and she thought the whipped cream was for kinky stuff.
    "May I ask what's so funny?" Henry asked, pulling out a bowl of fruit.
    "I just, you know, thought that the whipped cream was for something sexual." She sputtered.
    Henry blushed. "No, I was going to put yogurt and fruit in a bowl. The whipped cream was supposed to go on top, but suddenly I don't want to put it on top."
    "Okay." Kim stifled a giggle.
    Henry put the whipped cream back into the fridge. "I'm not sleeping with Stephanie. We're just friends. She comes over for a massage. I'm a pretty good masseur." Henry was so rich that he could take many courses to learn many different things just for fun. It seemed that Henry had moved on from his other hobby to his current massaging hobby.
    Suddenly, Kim felt dumb. Well, when you see a naked woman standing in the doorway of a man's bedroom you don't think he's giving her a great massage. Maybe a deep skin massage, if you know what I mean. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed. I just thought, you know, he must have one hell of a sexual appetite." Kim chuckled.
    Henry blushed, again. "Um, nothing like that. Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought that you were with my mother."
    Kim crossed the kitchen to grab a hanging apron. "Your mom had one request: Zucchini bread. So, I'm in here to make it."
    His face lit up. "The zucchini bread that my mother brings home every Monday, you make it?"
    Kim nodded.
    "I love that bread! Please, say you'll let me help you make it." He begged.
    Kim couldn't deny him. She was always one for the beggars. If he had decided to grovel, then she would have let him do whatever he wanted, but he didn't. Therefore, she was willing to let him HELP. "Fine, but put an apron on."
    He did exactly what she said without question. Thank god, he hadn't asked why, her only answer would have been, "Because I want to see your sexy ass in an apron."
    "I'll get the ingredients. Kay?" He said
    She nodded, ripping a piece of paper out of her notebook to write down the ingredients. She handed it to him.
    He looked at it for a moment before saying, "Hmm... that isn't a lot of ingredients."
    Kim rolled her eyes. "What were you expecting, Santa's naughty and nice list? Not hardly, but there are enough ingredients there to make a pretty damn good loaf of zucchini bread. Now go forth and retrieve my ingredients before I reconsider hiring you."
    He saluted her. "I'm right on it." He left.
    Should she not have a massive crush on her boss's son? Probably, did she care? Not remotely. Kim was in deep shit, you couldn't pretend not to like someone for very long. He asked her once if she'd go on a date with him, but she refused, saying that it was unprofessional and that she didn't like him. Was she lying? Why, yes. Yes, she was, but in the end, she decided that she couldn't afford having a relationship with her boss's son. Therefore, she lied to him and to herself. She said repeatedly. "No, you do not like him, Kim. In fact, it's clearly the opposite. You obviously hate his guts for being in your mind all the damn day." Watching him sleep with a bunch of different girls was like a knife to the heart. He clearly didn't like her that much if he was able to move on, but Kim was okay with him sleeping with a bunch of women. What would really hurt Kim would be if Henry started a serious relationship with someone. That would be a bitch to swallow.
    Henry returned with his arms full of food items. "I'm here. I'm here. You can quit worrying." Henry joked, dropping the pile of food onto a nearby counter with a loud "ka-thunk."
    "Oh, goody," Kim clapped, excitedly. She quickly turned to the stove, preheating the oven. She grabbed two separate bowls, one for Henry, and one for herself. "Stir together these." She instructed.
    "So..." Henry moved a little closer down the counter next to Kim. "You just want me stir this?"
    Kim rolled her eyes; she knew he was just trying to start up a conversation. She had already specified what he was to do. "Yes." She answered simply.
    "No special technique required?" He asked curiously. He probably wanted her to get behind him and try to help him. Well, she hated to break it to him, but it was as simple as a quick whisk.
    "Nope, no special technique required. Now stir before I fire you." She threatened.
    He pouted. He poured the slightly green mixture into a provided pan and stuck it into the oven. Then he waited for new instructions. "What next?" He asked hopefully.
    "Next... we wait." She answered, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.
    He nodded, taking a seat on the stool next to her. "I wanted to help you make the zucchini bread and you let me, so, now I owe you something. What do you want?" He asked, turning to her.
    Many things crossed her mind when he asked what she wanted, but she didn't say any of them. 'You don't like him anymore,' she chastised herself. Right, she didn't like him at all. Because she didn't like him, she obviously hadn't noticed where their thighs pressed together and the heat of his skin seeped into her or the scent of his cologne wafting toward her: The one kind of cologne that had her stomach in knots. She certainly hadn't noticed the way his eyes lingered on her face, those beautiful brown eyes. Like melted caramel, she used to warm up inside when she looked at them. Not anymore, or at least that's what she told herself. "I don't want anything from you." She answered firmly, secretly clutching the edges of her stool with a strong death grip.
    "Fine, if you can't think of anything, then why don't you come over to my room once you're done with the bread and I'll give you a massage?" He suggested.
    "No. No, no, no. You are my boss's son; I don't get massages from my boss's son." She said. The image of him rubbing her back permanently stained in her mind.
    "Then think of something you want." He said, before she could answer he added, "You can't think of anything? Then, after you finish making the bread, you will come to my room. End of discussion." He stood up and left with his bowl of fruit in hand.
    She frowned. Maybe she should finish with the bread and leave. It would be safer for everyone that way. What would happen if Ms. Halliday found out about her feelings? Would Margaret fire her, maybe lectured, insulted for even believing for a second she had a chance? Whatever the consequence, part of her didn't care.
    The oven timer beeped, reminding her of the interruption in her dream. Would they have had sex? On the other hand, would he have left her? She didn't know. It was always like that. She always woke up before the fun happened.
    Kimberly took the bread out of the oven, setting it aside to cool.
    Maybe she lost her chance to go out with him. He had asked and she rejected him. He probably moved on already. Maybe he hadn't ever like her. No matter what, she couldn't risk losing her job.
    She taste tested the bread. It was just the same as the others. She brought it up stairs for Ms. Halliday, walking past Henry's room was easier that time. At least now, she knew that he wasn't screwing her, just giving her a massage.
    "Margaret." She called.
    "Yes, dear, I'm still where you left me." Ms. Halliday answered, she sounded worryingly weak. Like just talking took too much effort.
    "I've got your bread."
    Ms. Halliday sat up in bed, clapping excitedly. "Gimme, gimme, gimme!" She chanted. She snatched it up and began devouring it, "Mm... So good."
    Kimberly sat on the edge of the bed, silently drawing random designs into the velvety blanket.
    "What is it, dear?" Ms. Halliday asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
    "Nothing," Kimberly mumbled.
    "When a girl walks into a room bright and smiley, leaves, and comes back frowning, something happened. Tell me." Ms. Halliday insisted.
    Kim did not want to tell Ms. Halliday. See, you're less likely to lose your job if your boss doesn't know you drool over her drop-dead gorgeous son. "Nothing, nothing's the matter. I think I may just be catching what you have." Kim lied, faking a cough. She tried giving Ms. Halliday her best puppy dog eyes.
    "I'm not buying it for a second, Kim. We've been working together for three years and friends for longer. You'd think I'd know my friend well enough to know when she's lying. Do I look like a dumb ass?" Ms. Halliday gave her pointed look, challenging her to say otherwise.
    Kim couldn't very well tell her that she had a small, maybe huge, crush on Henry. That'd be like asking to be fired. "Well, you see, Margaret, I kind of have this friend who kinda likes this guy who used to like her until she turned him down. He may or may not still like her, but that's not the problem. The problem is that he is the ONLY person she can't have, but he's so damned tempting. What she would give for one night of passion...anything. The only exception is her job." Kim frowned. Why did Henry have to be her boss's son? Why couldn't he be the local butcher's son? He'd still be undeniably sexy. Was it because he was untouchable that she found him so attractive in the first place? Or the fact that he made millions a year and donated lots of money to local charity drives? God, what a kind-hearted man.
    He never flaunted the fact that he donated like most people. He never told anyone, really. Kim just happened to be working at a charity for young children with Down syndrome when she saw his name on the announcement sheet.
    Kim volunteered to help raise money for the children with Down syndrome. When you donated, your name was written on a piece of paper and during their thank you speech, they included your name, but Kim saw Henry Halliday's name on the sheet Written next to his name was anonymous donor.
    Next to his name! He didn't want everyone to know, didn't want to be known as the angelic rich boy. Well, too bad. Kim knew of his kind acts. She wasn't going to tell anyone though. Not that she had anyone to tell. Lack of friends, that is.
    Ms. Halliday nodded understandingly. "Why can't your friend date him?" She asked, devouring another piece of bread.
    Kim blinked, confused. "My friend? Oh, right. My friend can't date him because..." Would saying that he's the bosses son clue Margaret in on who Kim was talking about? "Because he's a hobo." She lied. "Her parents don't let her date guys without houses."
    Margaret look at Kim incredulously. "A hobo?"
    "Yes." Kim said.
    Margaret laid down, setting the bread next to her on the bedside table. She snuggled into the blanket, still looking at Kim peculiarly. "Hobo." She finally snorted.
    Kim stood up. "I think you should rest." She advised.
    "I do feel abnormally weak, but then again, I am old." Ms. Halliday grumbled. She hated aging, constantly complained about her forming wrinkles.
    "I'm leaving you now, but I will be back. Don't hesitate to call for me. I'll be staying all day to check in on your health." With that, Kim left the room. Tucking Ms. Halliday into bed, turning out the lights, and softly closing the door.
    "I wondered when you'd come out."
    Kim jumped in surprise. "What the hell?" She whisper yelled.
    Henry stood, propped up against the wall. He looked devastatingly handsome in him tight V-neck. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, probably did that to keep the massaging oils off his shirt.
    Kim could see the outline of something showing on his chest through the white shirt. It was black and a swirling design. Did Henry get a tattoo? Did she forget to mention how mouth-wateringly delicious his tan skin looked against the white of his shirt?
    Henry smiled, revealing a set of perfect straight white teeth. He looked so fabulous. "Were you planning on opting out on your promised massage?" He asked, a daring look in his eye. His 'better not even think about objecting' look was exactly like his mother's, spot on really.
    Kim crossed her arms, glaring at Henry. "Yes, yes I was."
    "Well, don't bother. I promised. You always thought I was bad at everything; I want to show you that I am at least good at this. Please." He begged, giving Kim puppy dog eyes that were one hundred percent better than hers were.
    How could you deny a face like Henry's face? Kim huffed, quickly caving from his persuasion. "Fine I'll get a massage." It was probably out of line to get a massage from your boss's son, but Henry was just so persuasive and the super excited look on his face was like a child waiting for their Christmas gift. She couldn't be that person to deny a person happiness and if it made Henry happy to give her a massage, then so be it.