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MEGHAN
Ido not have daddy issues. But when Julian dominates me, something inside me comes to life, and that’s what I needed tonight. Except now I’m home alone without my panties, with a sore, chafed ass. The toy inside the drawer of my nightstand is tempting, but it’s no match for the real thing. I can wait; Julian will eventually give me what I want because he wants it too.
There is still the little problem of being his assistant, though. There has got to be a reason for his stubbornness.
I wake up earlier than usual this morning and head to the only cafe in town for Julian’s favorites: sweet milky tea and flaky croissants. The only time over the summer I saw him eat anything remotely close to junk food was at breakfast.
After stopping at the cafe, I head to his apartment, careful not to spill the scalding hot tea all over my pristine white blouse. I stick the wax pastry bag between my teeth and knock on Julian’s door.
He doesn’t answer. I roll my eyes and knock harder, because he’s not a late sleeper.
I hear heavy footsteps on the old hardwood floors and the front door to the converted Victorian opens. Slowly, I turn and come face-to-face with a sweaty, shirtless Julian.
Holy fuck.
“Is that for me?” He nods toward the tray in one hand.
Like an idiot, I mumble the answer, with the bag firmly clenched between my teeth. He chuckles softly and grabs the bag, and we head toward his apartment door.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks as he unlocks the door before opening it wide.
I make it a point to inhale his fresh, manly scent as I pass.
You’re here for information, I remind myself as I place the cardboard carrier on the small dining table.
But as soon as I glance back at Julian, still sweaty and shirtless, my mission is forgotten entirely.
He opens the bag and the slight smile on his face widens into a full-blown grin. He plucks out the croissant and takes a hearty bite, then looks back inside, and his smile disappears.
“There’s only one. Didn’t you get one for yourself?”
No, ‘cause my head is entirely filled with you, I answer silently.
Slowly, he stalks his way toward me, discarding the bag to the floor. When he’s right in front of me, he tears off a piece of the pastry and holds it against my lips.
“I don’t want you to starve, little one,” he purrs.
I take a bite and chew slowly, my eyes locked completely on him. There’s desire and temptation in his gaze, and fantasy combined with flashback flicker in my thoughts.
“Are you having the same thoughts?” He presses one hand against my chest and pushes me gently until my back hits the wooden table. His hand drags down my front to the waistband of my skirt, which makes him hum. “You’re making this too easy on me.”
“Or my ass hurts too bad for a pair of pants,” I reply.
He slips a hand under my skirt and around my behind. “Tell me how I can make you feel better.”
I groan because he knows what I want. He’s just toying with me. He pulls his hand away and flips up my skirt, revealing the only pair of cotton panties I own. He sucks in a sharp breath before bending down to bury his nose between my thighs. The tickle of his hot breath makes me whimper and squirm.
“I’m losing patience,” he murmurs before kissing the inside of one thigh. “Are you still mine, little one? Completely?”
“Yes,” I whisper, arching my back slightly and pressing myself against him.
His hands travel up my body, gripping my waist. “Will you be a good girl and do exactly as I say?”
“Yes.” My voice is a needy moan.
“All you have to do is say the word, little one, and you’ll get exactly what you came here for.”
My eyes pop open. Am I really getting what I want? There’s only one way to find out.
