Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Disconnecting the call, I turned to my stubborn little paralegal. “Pack a bag. Now.”
I watched as her mouth opened, then closed, opened, and then closed again, like she was searching for something to say.
“Don’t argue with me,” I said. “Pack your things, or I will.”
Clutching the edges, she crossed her arms within the blanket. “You can’t just waltz in here and demand I move. That’s not how this works. You are my boss, not my father or my boyfriend. In fact, you’re not even my boss anymore. I quit, remember?”
“Nice try. I’ll drag you out of here naked under that coat if necessary. I’m more than capable of providing a wardrobe…” My gaze scanned over her. “And anything else you may need.”
She winced. “Thanks, but I don’t need a sugar daddy.”
Fuck. Instant hard on. Just the idea of those pretty lips calling me her daddy as I spanked her ass and pulled her hair had me so aroused, I was almost willing to fuck her on the floor.
I grabbed her chin and lifted her face to mine. “I wouldn’t test me, little one. Hearing you call me daddy while my cock is buried deep inside of you is just the kind of dirty kink I get off on.”
She gasped and stared up at me, speechless. Good. My patience was wearing thin. It had already been a long, unproductive day.
To be honest, I had never understood why men liked having their women call them daddy. It always felt a bit creepy, but how her cheeks reddened made it worth it. I rather liked the idea of providing for her, protecting her like she was mine. Not my child, obviously, but I liked the idea of punishing her and spoiling her and being the one she came to for everything.
She still stood there, not moving, so I started prowling around her apartment, grabbing clothes and other things, shoving them into the worn tote bag that was on the floor.
“Tonight, we’re getting you moved into a new place. Tomorrow morning, you are taking my black card, and you will go to Saks, and you’ll buy a new wardrobe that is suitable to be a paralegal at my desk.”
“The hell I am. I’m not letting you treat me like some bought and paid for whore. I didn’t even use that card to buy lunch.”
Her arms folded in front of her chest, and she stuck out her jaw like being stubborn was some sort of virtue.
Really, she looked like a petulant child. Maybe I would have her call me daddy.
“Only I’m allowed to call you my dirty little whore and only when I’m fucking you. If I hear you refer to yourself as a whore again, I’ll take off my belt, understood?”
She tilted her head to the side. “What’s the matter? Does the truth hurt?”
I tossed what I had been holding to the floor and stormed toward her.
She backed up so quickly she slammed against the wall by the window. The flash of red, blue, and white lights from the cop cars below played across her pale face.
“No, but that cute, insubordinate ass of yours is about to hurt.”
“Stop saying such things!”
Before I could respond, there was a loud bang on her door.
I opened it to see a very short, round man in a ripped, formerly white tank top and tragically threadbare jeans.
“Bitch, you called the police on me?” he barked, pointing his finger past me at Eddie. “The electricity will be out for the rest of the week and I’ll be sure to let the other tenants know you’re to blame.”
“Are you the owner of this building?” I asked.
I had intended to be reasonable. I was just going to name-drop a few people and tell him that he had a week to clean this shit up before they came to inspect. Then I saw his smug, arrogant, filthy, shameless demeanor. He really was doing this intentionally and acting like he was going to get away with it, probably because he had for so long.
Fuck this guy. This wasn’t a landlord struggling. This was a slumlord.
As soon as I finished the case against the O’Murphy clan, I was coming after slumlords with a vengeance.
“Yes, and you’re trespassing cuz you’re not on the fucking lease for this apartment.”
The foul odor radiating from his mouth was enough to turn my stomach and make me want to take a step back.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked. “Or better yet, do you know how many laws this building is in violation of, and that’s before you even count the very illegal tactics to force your residents out?”
“I don’t care who the fuck you are. I don’t care if you’re some cop or some spoiled little pussy-bitch who watched one too many episodes of Suits, and now thinks they know the law.”