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I pulled away, watching her breasts heave, a red flush creeping up her neck. “P-punish them?”
I hummed.
“How?”
Smiling darkly, I tapped her nose. “Let’s hope you won’t have to find that out, Petal.” I turned, walking into my room. Pausing, I said, “Don’t be late like yesterday. I don’t like tardiness.”
Before I could close the door, Ivy said, “Or what? You’ll punish me too?”
I gazed at her through my lashes, her curvy frame and the teasing smile on her lips. She didn’t know how dark my desires went, how she fueled them since the day I had the urge to protect her.
Keep her safe and ruin her for me.
“I will if I have to, little Petal.”
* * *
“And this isthe third guest room,” the pretty redhead waved her arm around the empty room as I glanced around the walls. I walked past her, towards the window that was directly against the house across from the one I was standing in. And a kid, no—a girl was playing with her gaming controller as a man joined her in the living room, ruffling her hair and picking up another controller.
I clenched my jaw and glared at the redhead, my real estate agent. Her eyes turned wide, seeing my face, and she looked away.
“You didn’t tell me this house had neighbors.”
“W-well, Mister Aiden, this is the only house that fits all your needs from two garages to more rooms and security. I’m sure you can overlook neighbors living in such a cozy home. And those are the Miller’s, I can introduce to them when we—”
“No need.” I left the room. I wasn’t here to make neighbors, just to see another house from the few that had disappointed me. Miss Poppy, the real estate agent, was right. The house suited me perfectly, with tall ceilings, beige walls, a fireplace, and more rooms than I’d ever need.
It would have been perfect for a family if—
I wasn’t going there. Addison had shown her true colors, and that was it. I was moving on. I had already moved from Denver and the house could be another step.
“Do you want to check the pool?”
“No, thank you.” I tilted my head and said, “Where can I sign the papers?”
Forty-five minutes later, I walked out of the agency building with a set of keys in my pocket and a bottle of Champagne gifted from a very flushed Poppy. I hope her boss paid her well. She was sweet and professional.
Checking my watch, I sat in the driver’s seat in my car. Thirty minutes to start my session with Ivy. She didn’t know I was looking at houses. I can take her to dinner—no, that’s too romantic. I can order Chinese takeout to celebrate and we could watch another movie together.
