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“That she is. She’s quite the painter herself.”
I laughed when Kierra swatted me and gave me stern eyes to “shut the hell up.” At least, that was how I interpreted the look.
“Is that so? Maybe you’d like to swing by my studio? I’d love to see what you got.”
Yeah, fuck off. Nothing good ever comes from “swinging by the studio.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Behr, but our four kids keep me quite busy. I wouldn’t be able to find the time,” she answered.
“A shame. Here’s my card in case your schedule lightens,” Mr. Behr said, offering his business card to her. My hand darted out, and I snatched the card.
“Thank you again for the artwork, but we really should be going if we don’t want to miss our reservation. Have a good evening,” I wished before taking Kierra by the hand and leading her out of the warehouse into the crisp weather.
“That was the nicest way I’ve seen someone say fuck off and die in my entire life. Rory would’ve punched him in the face,” Kierra giggled.
“He was two seconds away from being asked if he wanted to speak outside.”
“Awe, but I really wanted to go to his studio,” she whined playfully, opening the passenger door for me.
“Hmph,” I grunted, not caring for her jesting.
“I’m just teasing, baby,” she whispered, securing my seatbelt. “I’m about to feed you and then fuck you like a slut,” she purred in my ear before biting the lobe.
“Why wait?” I challenged.
“Excuse me?”
“The backseat is spacious enough to accommodate us.”
Kierra sighed and hung her head. “As wonderful as that sounds, time is of the essence, Mr. Baker. Remember, good things come to those who wait,” she reminded me as she smoothed her hand up and down my thigh. I tensed when she rubbed my erection through my dress pants. “I can’t wait to put my mouth on it,” she announced before closing the car door.
This woman is too mischievous for her own good.
* * *
“Where to next?” I asked once we left the upscale seafood restaurant where we dined on oysters, caviar, Chilean sea bass, and bread pudding that I had to get an extra serving to-go.
“Our third and final destination isn’t far from here. Sit back and relax,” she said, caressing my leg while she drove.
“Oh, my God. I need to check on the kids,” I announced, suddenly remembering they existed. I’d been having so much fun with Kierra that I completely forgot I was a father.
“I’m sure they’re sleeping by now,” she chuckled.
“I know, but I need to know if my youngest will be sporting a black eye when I pick her up tomorrow.”
“I can’t blame you. The Nori and Daisy saga has me on pins and needles,” she laughed while I pulled up Anthony’s contact.
“Hello?” he answered promptly.
“Hey, Ant. I was calling to check on the kids. Did they give you any trouble?”
“None at all. We took them to the pumpkin patch. All the kids picked out a pumpkin, and we painted them.”
“Wow. That sounds like fun. You must’ve been having a good leg day.”
“I did. We came home, and Simone made some kind of pregnancy macaroni concoction that knocked these kids on their asses. Daisy tried to pop up, but I warmed up some milk and mixed some cherry juice in there, and she passed out like a tiny drunk.”
I sighed in relief.
