Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
The door rattles, and we freeze.
"What’s taking so long, Tabby?" a male voice destroys the moment from the hallway. "This door shouldn’t be locked…are you in there? Someone said you went to the supply closet. It’s your first day, Tabby, did you lock the door by mistake?”
I withdraw my hand, my heart pounding for entirely different reasons now. Tabby's eyes are wide, a mixture of disappointment and amusement dancing in them.
"Who the fuck is that?" I growl quietly.
"Some guy who was treating me like some intern earlier. Asked me to freshen his coffee," she whispers back. "Jake or Jason or something. From IT."
The door handle turns, but I locked it the moment we entered—a habit from years of paranoia that's finally paying off.
"Definitely locked," the voice says. “I need red toner, like, right fucking now.”
"Let me try," a second voice offers. "Sometimes these doors stick."
The handle rattles again, more forcefully this time. Tabby presses her lips together to stifle a giggle, and despite my frustration, I find myself smiling too.
"We should wait them out," I whisper, adjusting her skirt back over her thighs. As much as it pains me to cover an inch of her creamy flesh, it’s for my eyes only.
She nods, then leans forward to press a soft kiss to my lips. "To be continued?"
The possessiveness that surges through me is all-consuming. "Count on it, kitten."
We wait in silence, listening as the voices eventually fade away down the hallway. When I'm certain they're gone, I straighten her clothes, then my own, trying to will away my persistent erection.
"I should go first," she suggests, sliding off the shelf. I catch her easily, steadying her as her legs wobble slightly. The knowledge that I did that to her sends a fresh wave of desire through me.
"Wait." I tilt her chin up, studying her face—flushed cheeks, bright eyes, lips swollen from my kisses. "Tonight you are coming to my place."
It's not a question, but she answers anyway. "Not tonight."
“Do you know what happened to the last person that said no to me?” I growl.
“I’m not saying no. I’m saying not yet. There’s something important I have to do at home.”
I seethe. I don’t like being denied.
At the same time… There’s something hot about her taking control, making me wait, giving me just enough to drive me wild then taking it away. I sense that there’s more to her denial than shyness. This isn’t a brush-off. But at the same time, I won’t push her to tell me everything. Not yet.
I’ll her have her little victory. But what she doesn’t know is, she won’t be out of my sight for a moment.
"I’ll drive you to yours. No arguments on that."
She smiles, that mischievous glint returning. "Would I ever argue with you, Mr. Duffield?"
I snort. "Only every fucking minute of every fucking day."
Her smile widens as she reaches for the door. I catch her hand, pulling her back against me for one more kiss—slower, deeper, more demanding.
"Mine," I growl against her lips.
She nods, her fingers tracing my jaw. "Yours, big boss."
As she slips out the door, I lean against the shelves. Big boss.
Yes, that but it’s something else.
I want to fuck her rotten and give her a bath and three swats on that perky ass of hers, then cook her a nutrient-dense dinner, counting up all her macros and micros and logging her food and hydration on an app, so I know her body is getting everything it needs.
I’ve never cooked anything outside of the microwave popcorn bag which set my parents’ house on fire god rest their souls. Mom was hard on me, but there was love there too. She just had a hard time showing it, especially to the son that tore his way out of her body.
What has this little cat eared sprite done to me in a matter of hours? This morning, all I wanted was the Belford brothers’ balls in a jar. My business and my cats were the extent of my world. Now? Now I have her. My little pink kitten with her defiant smile and fearless heart.
And I'm never letting her go.
The door opens again, and I tense, ready to eviscerate whoever's interrupting. This closet will forever be off limits to anyone but me and my kitten. Her scent is in the air, it’s mine and mine alone.
But it's her—poking her head back in, those ridiculous ears catching the fluorescent light.
"By the way," she says with a wicked smile. "Jake or John or whatever found me. Told me to grab him a fresh coffee, extra hot, double cream and sugar. Seems he thinks I should do as I’m told, just like you.” She shrugs her lips in a playful frown. “You want a coffee too? As long as I’m going.” She pauses, but I’m already planning the fifteen ways I’m going to make Jake or John or whatever the fuck his name is beg for his life. Tabby bobs her head back and forth when I don’t answer. “No? Okay. Never mind…”