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“That is what we are learning now. I am happy with whatever you do to me, baby. My dick is inside your wet, tight pussy. No place I would rather be, so take your time if you want.”
She didn’t want. Fyre moved her hips and the groan that left his mouth was heaven to her ears. She wanted him to whimper and cry for her as she did him. Lips curling up in what she was sure was a vixen smile, she started rotating her hips, seeing what she liked the most. And how much she could torture the man beneath her before he snapped.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rubbing the back of his neck, Phillip stared out the window. He was no closer to finding out who Cara worked for, or with, than he had been while the party had been going on at his home, and that had been a month ago. Though he had been in communication with a few of the business owners who had been there.
This cultivating relationships thing was fucking difficult. And it didn’t help that all he wanted to do was be with Fyre.
Naked.
All day long.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply. Dreaming about her and the way she responded to his touch wasn’t doing a damn thing except making him aroused once more.
Not true, it also made him far more irritated, because it was just reminding him of something he could not have.
Keating knocked and entered with his usual blank expression. “A visitor to see you, my lord.”
“Who is it, Keating?”
“A Mr. Tennemin.”
He sat up straight. “Send him in.”
“Of course, my lord.”
In the four weeks since the party, he had only communicated with this man by missive thus far.
Mr. Tennemin walked in with the same arrogance and swagger he’d had at the party. Phillip stood and offered his hand.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Tennemin.”
They shook and after each had a drink, they took their seats.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Your dark—”
Phillip growled as his hand tightened around his glass, and the man cleared his throat even though he didn’t look the slightest bit remorseful for the word that had been tumbling from his mouth.
“The woman who keeps your books, Miss Parker, was it? I would like to speak with her.”
Phillip hadn’t known he had such restraint. Edgy as his pulse kicked up, he tried to slow his rapid breaths. Tunnel vision owned him and he could only see his fist driving directly into Tennemin’s smug face. Leaning toward the man with a deliberate motion, he prayed he wouldn’t kill him right now.
“Why did you come to me instead of going to speak to her directly?”
“I know she is in your employ but I figured you were taking advantage and sleeping with her. I did not wish to be seen as poaching on your property.”
One drink would not be enough. He set his glass on the desktop to merely keep from chucking it at this man’s head.
“A few things to get straight, Mr. Tennemin. Miss Parker is a grown woman capable of making her own decisions. She is a fucking genius when it comes to numbers. I do not take advantage of people who work for me in such a fashion. I will, however, protect that woman with everything I have. She is mine because she is my woman, not because of the color of her skin, or that she works for me, and you would do well to remember that.”
“Your woman?”
“Mine.” He leaned closer to the desk, hands flat on the smooth surface. “Do you have a problem with the woman who will one day be my wife? For something as asinine as her skin color? Because if you do, we can forget all we talked about while you were here previously and I will give you one fucking second to walk out that door before I toss you out.”
“I cannot say I approve—”
“Then get the fuck out of my house and do not bother to sully my step again.”
Mr. Tennemin held up a hand. “But,” he plowed on as if he had not just been threatened, “I have never met another man who was willing to buck what people have deemed to be the right way. I liked her, my lord. She knows what she is talking about and I would like the chance to see if she can help me with my books as well. I no longer have slaves. I did for a while, but that has passed. Much like you here, my people get a wage. I am just worried that if we go forward and you marry…her…there would be repercussions. Businesswise.”
Phillip shrugged with the cool arrogance he had been born into. “I am a fucking earl. I have contacts almost everywhere and where I do not, my friends do. Here, England. Scotland and Ireland. Africa. India. I have places that will purchase my wares. Those who do not want to do business with me, I will set out to crush, it is that simple.”
