Page 9 of Possessive Mr. Pen

Hilary Winthrop

Fear prickles along my nape.The eerie calmness emanating from the man beside me chills my skin.Connor Pen focuses on Alex Koch as though he intends to rip him apart with his bare hands.In all the years I’ve worked for him, I’ve never seen my boss this terrifying.

When he shifts his gaze to Jocelyn Koch—Alex’s wife—a vast, frozen tundra stretches on in the depths of his green eyes.I fight against a wave of premonition.

Nothing good will come from these three people meeting.

Before I can steer Connor in a different direction, I lock eyes with Destiny from between her parent’s shoulders.

The flash of delight when she recognizes me softens my heart and fills me with determination, and I trash my attempt to run away.

Despite my apprehension, Connor—no, Mr.Pen, I correct myself—treats them no differently than he does all the other party goers.He hides whatever fueled his reaction and introduces both himself and me to the couple, and after a few moments of polite small talk between the adults, I pretend as though I’ve never met Destiny before and ask about her.

The rigid, subdued version of the girl I spoke to only a little while ago sours my tongue and hurts my heart, but when her parents dismiss us and turn to begin a new conversation, she sneaks me a tiny wave.I dart a wary glance at Mr.Pen and confirm he isn’t looking before smiling and returning the gesture.

By the time my boss finally decides to excuse us from the party, my face hurts from fake smiling, my ribs ache from the tight bodice, and my feet throb from my sandals.Next time I wear these ridiculous flats, I’ll glue inserts to the soles for support.The straps may pinch my toes with the extra padding, but at least I won’t feel as though I’ve walked barefoot for miles on hard, unforgiving marble.Each step jars up through my joints, but even as we turn the corner into the hall and escape the dozens of eyes watching us, I don’t dare show weakness.

My senses sharpen as Mr.Pen leads me further away from the crowd.As horrible and exhausting as it is to pretend like I belong amidst the rich and famous, being alone with Connor Pen is more dangerous.

No matter how much my body craves him, I can’t let him cross the line again.I need this job.We must remain strictly professional.What happened earlier cannot happen again.

Without a word, he continues leading me through the halls with my hand trapped between his arm and torso, and the few people we pass ensure I don’t vie for escape, but when he stops in front of the suite and reaches into his jacket to retrieve his key card, I try to tug free.

Electricity jolts through me from his heated side-eye.My heart leaps into my throat and need throbs low in my belly as he opens the door and pulls me in after him.

“Mr.Pen, if there’s—”

“There is.”

I grit my teeth at his rudeness and prepare to fight if he drags me toward either of the bedrooms, but instead he leads me into the living room and pushes me down onto the couch.Shocked at the power in his hands, I sit with my heart pounding in my ears and my eyes locked on his clear green gaze.

In slow motion, daring me to balk, he lowers himself to a knee in front of me and wraps his long fingers around my ankle.

I forget how to breathe as he lifts my foot onto his thigh, ghosts his fingertips up my leg, and unties the ribbon.With mesmerizing control, he pulls the silk away from my skin and slips the sandal off my foot.

Need barrels through me when he cups my heel in one hand and my toes in the other.An embarrassing sound of pleasure escapes my chest when he flexes my foot.The stretch burns deep in my calf and releases the tension trapped in my toes.

His hungry, heavy-lidded eyes fuel the firestorm swirling inside me.When he shifts his grip I try to jerk away, but he lifts a brow and buries his thumbs into the ball of my foot.

I groan and melt into the couch even as I scold myself for giving in too easily.The wicked satisfaction in his smirk snaps me back into reality.

I yank my foot out of his hands.He takes my other leg captive and reaches for the ribbon.

I tug, huff when he doesn’t let go, and shift to stand.His crystal-clear green eyes flick up to mine and lock me in place with their intensity.

“Is there something wrong, Ms.Winthrop?”he asks as though he isn’t caressing my leg with every pass of the ribbon.

“Yes.This isn’t appropriate behavior between a boss and an employee.”

I hate how much the breathiness in my voice gives away, but need scorches my insides.My clit pulses.The fabric of my dress chafes my sensitive nipples.I want his long, unyielding fingers to ease the ache between my legs.

“This is nothing compared to what I want to do to you,” he growls.

My core clenches at the hunger in his voice even as I balk.He stops my argument by slipping my sandal off and stretching my foot.

“As your employer, I apologize for not taking better care of you in the past.Expect this and more in the future,” he says.

I blink through the delicious haze, urging my brain to process his words, but he steals my indignation by massaging the sore ball of my foot.