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“There’s no one,” she said faintly, her hostility melting to something closer to fear. “No ex. No one else I know who matches that description. So it is him.”
“I’m certain of the fact. Which means we need to sit down and discuss all ye know about the man. Put in place a real protection protocol.”
Another woman moved closer, her older brother’s wife, tattoos down her arm. “I’ll rearrange your shifts or cover them myself.”
Ariel shot her gaze to her boss. “No, Effie, I don’t want you to do that.”
Effie frowned. “I heard what he said. Daisy’s would-be kidnapper is here and looking for ye. Going out on the slopes again would be nuts.”
I was glad she’d said it as it earned a nod. I would’ve got a rebuke.
Fresh emotion came over Ariel’s expression. Some kind of anxiety over giving up work which I didn’t understand.
“I can help with lessons,” a fair-haired woman offered.
Effie twisted around. “For real?”
“I taught there before, and my three are now in school full time. It’ll be fine temporarily as we’re trying for another baby, but I just got my period so we’re good for another month.” She pulled a face. “Sorry for period talk, people here who aren’t female.”
Valentine huffed. “Men can talk about periods. No squeamish boys here.”
Laughter followed, and Effie retreated to discuss the offer with the helpful lass, leaving me with Ariel and Daisy. The latter tapped out a message on her phone.
“I’m asking Ben to formally take on your protection,” she whispered.
Her phone rang, and she walked away to take the call.
Then it was just the two of us.
Ariel sighed. “Give me your number.”
I plucked the pad and pen from her hands, scribbling my digits across the top of her note. Then I spotted what was written mid-page below.
The words in front of my eyes stole my every thought.
Deep throat him with his hand fisting your ponytail.
Meet somewhere semi-public and get off fast and hard before anyone sees you.
My mouth dropped open.
I jerked my focus to Ariel.
She had the most defiant, devilish gleam in her eyes. “Like my list?”
“Yes,” I confessed without meaning to say a word.
“Want to help me with it?”
How the fuck could she say that without faltering?
How could she be so cool, with only the faintest hint of pink on her curved cheeks?
It wasn’t a real offer. Couldn’t be.
Suddenly, I was picturing her in a hundred different ways, all dirty. Her naked and on her knees, legs spread. Or on her back with my hips moving between her thighs. My dick buried in her to the hilt, her tits bouncing with every thrust.
I’d never wanted anyone so badly.
