The Last Rosewas a dating reality show where each week the bachelor or bachelorette sent people home until they were left with one person who they were supposed to get engaged to at the end.
Booker:Not my cup of tea, but I don’t care.
I smiled.
Me:You’ll love it. There’s this chick that’s crazy!
That wasn’t something new. Every season had at least one chick who thought love at first sight existed for her and only her. Then she caused tension in the house andhello drama.
A few minutes passed and no reply from Booker. Finally, there was a knock on my door. I looked through the peephole and smiled as I saw his blond bearded face in view. He was looking toward Sam’s door, but as I opened mine, there was no one in the hall.
“Hey.” I smiled.
Booker grinned back. “Hey.” He entered and kissed me hello.
Every night was the same, and even though he treated my home as if it was his own, I still loved serving him his dinner. My mother always told me that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Thankfully, I could cook.
I pulled the pot roast from the fridge and then put it in the microwave. When I turned around, Booker was staring at where my ass had been before I turned.
I rolled my eyes. “How was work? Why did you get off early?”
His eyes moved up to mine. “You think nine is early?”
“For you? Yes.”
“I only had an hour consult this afternoon, and afterward I got ready for court in the morning. Then I decided to come see my girl.”
“Yeah?” I grinned.
He stood and walked toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Yeah what? Yeah, that you’re my girl?”
“Yeah.”
“You know you are.” He pressed his lips to mine. The microwave beeped, and we pulled apart. “You think I’m shagging my secretary or what?”
“Are you?”
He grinned. “Not this one.”
I balked. “Not this one?”
“A few years back I had a thing with my old assistant. She doesn’t work there anymore because her husband found out. Almost lost my job.”
“Booker!” I scolded.
“It was years ago. I have too much to lose now to make that mistake. Plus, Monica isn’t my type. She irritates me to no end when she rolls her eyes because I’m her boss and that shit doesn’t fly with me. Then on Fridays when we can wear jeans, her arse does nothing for me.”
I stared at him.What the hell did all that mean?
“You, on the other hand,” he continued as he cupped my face with one hand, “make my dick hard as stone when you roll your eyes because it’syouI want to tie up and punish. And don’t even get me started with your arse, baby.”
I looked up into his electric blue eyes. “You’ve only tied me up once.”
“There’s always Saturday when we go back to Sensation, gorgeous. Or, if you want, I’m sure I can find something around here that will strap you to your bed or the dining room table.”
I blinked in shock.
“I could use my tie, your robe tie, or four of your belts to strap your arms and legs bound to the table. I wouldn’t mind eatingyoufor dinner—again.”
