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She slowly backs up further ensuring there’s distance between us. “Why do you call me that?”
“Because I’m a king and you’re mine.” This game of cat and mouse we’re playing is turning me on more than I expected.
With each step forward I take, she takes another one backwards, “Wouldn’t that make me a queen?”
“You’re far too young and innocent to be a queen.”
“I’m not innocent, I’m not even a virgin.” I don’t care to hear about her past lovers all that matters now is I’ll be the only one fucking her until death parts us. “I’ve been with two men.”
I almost laugh out loud at her confession. The fact that she thinks that makes her experienced is what proves just how innocent she is. What I see in her eyes proves that underneath there’s a devil dying to come out and I’m going to love helping her with that exploration. “You mean boys. You’ve never been with a man.”
She swallows hard. She’s run out of room to escape as her ass hits the edge of the kitchen counter. She grabs onto the marble to brace herself when I continue to press closer. She squeezes her eyes closed, and my heart jolts in my chest.
She’s scared.
I gently graze my fingers over her soft cheek, lightening my approach. “You have flour on your face.”
Her eyes pop open in surprise, “I cooked dinner and made a cake for dessert. I hope that’s alright.”
I allow her to push past me, “You cooked for me?”
I can think of better things to have for dessert, but no one has ever cooked for me before.
“Let’s eat.” She scoops a portion of food on two plates and places them on the kitchen island, avoiding eye contact.
I slide the stems of two wine glasses through my fingers on my right hand and reach for a bottle of red wine with the other. I carry them over to the island where Callie has laid out place-settings and set them next to the plates. I pop the cork and pour two glasses, sliding one towards her. She smiles insecurely and takes a seat. I circle the island and take a seat next to her. She takes a sip of her wine and watches me nervously as I take a bite of the meal she made. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“From working at Alejandro’s Bistro.” She says shyly, sipping on her wine. The look in her eyes is one I’m not used to. She genuinely looks like she’s seeking approval which comes as a shock to me.
“Almost as delicious as you.” She takes my compliment with a smile. Small talk is not my forte, but I sense she’s looking for a connection. I do my best to give her what she needs. “I’m sorry I was so busy today. Did you find a way to occupy your time while I was gone?”
She relaxes a little and starts to eat. In between bites she tells me about her day. The enthusiasm of her rambling about the bakery she ate at and the joy of being with her friend fills me with an odd sensation of contentment. Every detail is something I already know but I don’t let on. Oddly enough she left out the part of the man that spooked her. The hunt for him is already underway. I pour her more wine and let her talk about food and pastries, although truth be told I’m only half listening. I’m far too distracted by the way her lips curve into such a sweet smile and the way she lights up when she’s excited. She washes her food down with the wine. As she swallows, I gently run my finger across her glistening lips, wiping the moisture from the wine away. I can feel her body tense when I lean in close to kiss her. I’m mere centimeters away from claiming her mouth when my phone pings. She pulls back leaving me both frustrated and turned on at the same time. She slides off the stool. “I’m sorry I think the wine has gone to my head. I need to lay down.”
“We’ll continue this later.” My eyes are transfixed on the subtle sway of her ass as she pads across the living room. My phone pings again.
“Damnit.” I grab my phone and check the notifications. The alarm system in my office was triggered.
“What the fuck?” I grumble, grabbing my keys on the way out the door.
In the elevator I pull up the camera feed on my phone. There are no cameras in my office, after all, my business requires discretion, but the hallway feed shows me who entered with a simple rewind.
I scratch my head when I see my secretary use her key and slip inside. She knows the deactivation code but doesn’t know I have a failsafe to notify me if anyone uses their personal codes when they're not supposed to be there. Trust is something I don’t dish out lightly.
I twist the door handle and slip inside quietly. “Did you forget something?”
She’s startled by the sound of my voice. Turning around to face me, she places a picture frame into a cardboard box. “My pride.”
“Excuse me?” I ask. “Is this your way of resigning? It looks like you're sneaking in and out without leaving a proper notice.” My eyebrow rises waiting for her explanation.
“Something like that.” She pauses a moment and returns to gathering her personal belongings.
“I just learned you’re married and after what we did, in there,” she crooks her head toward my office, “I think it’s best if I quit. I’m not a home wrecker or a whore.”
“Where did you hear that?” I prod. After the shooting, it took some maneuvering to keep my marriage quiet. As far as I know, it’s not public knowledge yet. Although there’s a man no longer breathing who also got word of my closely guarded secret. Which means, someone’s been talking.
“That’s what you have to say for yourself? Not even going to deny it?” She picks up a potted plant and gently lowers it into the box.
I hold the door open for her, “I don’t owe you or anyone else an explanation.” She stumbles past me clutching the box in her hand. I grip the edge of the box and tip it slightly to check its contents.
