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Hunter glanced from Dash to Kensley. Fuck, she was still staring almost open-mouthed at the man. Which part of her belonging to him did she not understand?
“No,” he said firmly to Dash, then he turned his attention to her. “Go to my room,” he added, making sure he left no space for an argument in his tone. Except the woman ignored him completely.
“My name is Kensley,” she said, rushing toward him with her arm outstretched. “Kensley Reid and I would love—”
Before Dash could take her hand, Hunter grabbed her and directed her out of the room. “Upstairs.”
“But I just wanted to—”
“Now.”
He didn’t miss her murmuring “Captain Controlling” under her breath as she left his study.
“Well, well, well. Captain Controlling, is it now? Suits you, I think.” Dash began as soon as they were alone. “Is that the girl from the club the other night?”
“What do you want?” Hunter asked gruffly.
In all his thirty-four years, he had never had any reason to be jealous of another man when it came to a woman he wanted. He would have easily found a way to remove her ex-fiancé, Hugh Blankshaw, from her life if he had still been in the picture and they hadn’t broken up already.
He didn’t know the degree of his over-possessiveness until he saw her. And now he would wipe the earth of any man threatening the hold on his possession of Kensley Reid.
Dash gave him that thoughtful look he always gave Hunter when he acted, according to him, strange. He stroked that beard of his like some sort of idiot as he seemed to be further analyzing him. Usually, Dash would push until Hunter gave up something, but today he let it slide completely, which told Hunter he knew it was the girl who had him up in knots.
Dash also knew where he was headed in under a month. He knew that Hunter couldn’t or wouldn’t take her with him either. Dash put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Hunter wasn’t a talker, and Dash understood that.
“I was thinking of purchasing me some property in London so I can open another Venus club there, you know, with my idea of a wet pussy designed on the floor area and an erect cock coming for her from the ceiling. Need some advice about the Darby Brothers. They any good?”
Hunter spent fifteen minutes with Dash, giving him the advice he needed, and then he set up a meeting for him with the potential sellers he knew personally. Dash would have to put in a very extravagant offer to buy the property, but the man had character and knew how to handle it on his own. He sent his friend off quickly after that.
Now Hunter had to take care of his own property, and if he needed to spank her again to make her see that while she was with him, she belonged to him only, and if she needed him to leave a tattoo on her ass with his name on it, that’s what he would do too.
She wasn’t going to get off unscathed by going all coy and getting flustered in the presence of any other man.
He bounded up the staircase and flung open the bedroom door to find his little virgin pacing the floor in her pretty pink dress, her high ponytail swaying from side to side, and her thumb in her mouth as she chewed absently on her nail.
She stopped as she saw him, then rushed toward him.
“How well do you know that man? Is he a friend of yours? Is he a good person? He’s the one who owns all those nightclubs, right? Oh my god, he is perfect.” She clutched his T-shirt and looked up at him, her eyes filled with pleading.
Hunter clenched his jaw. Didn't she know she was his? He forced her to sign a fucking contract stating this, and now she's excited about Dash? Did this woman not understand the terms of ownership?
“You have to set him up... but no... we have to come up with the perfect way.” She released his T-shirt and began pacing again, her cheeks rosy pink and her eyes sparkling. “It has to be by accident, an organic meeting, at least as far as she is concerned. She can never know she was set up... She needs to see him in his pure state without any knowledge of it being a blind date—”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Hunter growled. Set who up? Was she referring to herself in the third person? Fucking hell.
“Marcy. My friend, Marcy. Who else? You have to set them up. He is absolutely perfect. Everything Marcy looks for in a man, he has it all rolled into one. That mustache and beard. His eyes, his height, his smile. Oh, please tell me he uses Tom Ford cologne. She'll go nuts if he does—”
“The fuck.” He dragged his hands through his hair. Pretty much incredulous now. “You want me to set your friend up on a date with Dash?”
“Dash? Is that what you call him? Yes, will you? Please? He's perfect. I can’t believe I found a real-life version of Marcy’s dream man.” She closed the distance between them, imploring him with those sexy eyes of hers and clutching onto his T-shirt again as if her life depended on him arranging a bloody blind date with her friend and mine.
He felt a wave of weakening relief, but it soon gave way to utter annoyance. He’d been ready to teach this woman how many ways he could own all of her, ways she'd never forget or could have imagined; and she was orchestrating a blind date?
He picked her up and tossed her onto the bed, covering her body with his before she had a chance to lift herself up. She was completely baffled by his reaction; it was written all over her face.
What did she expect? He was on the verge of obliterating Dash, one of the very few people he trusted, for her—not that Dash would do anything to betray him, but the thought of her wanting him had destroyed Hunter in ways he didn’t think himself capable of experiencing.
Her body softened under his while her dress glided up, exposing her silken legs. Her breath fell heavily from her luscious lips as her perfect eyebrows drew together in a pretty little frown.
