Page 21 of Prince Charming

He rode into town, collected a takeout order from the diner and headed down to the gym. It smelled of pine Lysol and sweat from the early birds.

No one caught his attention like she did.

Was he developing a case of stalkeritus like Reaper back in the day?

Though Reaper had a reason, by watching his secret wife.

Tag couldn’t claim any such thing when he prowled forward and caught the way Marianna braced to face her boss.

She looked good in simple leggings and a slouchy sweater hanging off one shoulder. Now he knew what the shape of her was like under her baggy clothes. He couldn’t stop seeing it. He pictured every lithe inch of her for the past two days while he beat his cock in his fist until he thought he might never come again.

But then it twitched, and he knew he had some go in him yet.

Pity she looked at him like he was limp lettuce without a flicker of interest he usually saw in women’s eyes. He hardly had to make a play at all if he wanted to fuck because women made it abundantly clear they wanted him in their bed.

Not Marianna.

She let her lashes fall over her eyes as he approached.

Hair black as midnight wound around her head in a fancy braid.

Her gorgeous scent wafted toward him, seducing.

“Morning, darlin’.” He greeted with a smile, offering the white baggie and takeout cup to her. She took them automatically, their fingers grazed.

Did she hiss? Fuck. Was hescaringher?

Taking a step back, a frown yanking on his brow, he had a plan, but she looked at him like she thought he might go feral animal, and he changed his mind.

“I’m gonna be down in the basement. When theSoulsboys come in, can you let them know? And if there’s any calls, take a message. I’m gonna be training most of the day.”

She blinked like some ethereal angel. Dark lashes sweeping her cheekbones. It wasn’t up to him; he was only a lowly man, and he didn’t like to mansplain—thanks to Winter for telling him what that shit meant—but he’d always thought she needed feeding.

Dancers were naturally willowy.

But it was that care in him which kept him up at night wondering if she had enough to eat. Since it was the only thing she’d take from him, he’d started pushing food on her.

“Are you training for a fight?”

“Yeah.” He answered, and he caught her eyes stray up to his Phantom of the Opera scar. She knew it better than he did, seeing as she’d changed the dressings many times. He’d thought they were getting somewhere back then,friend wise.

Soon as Tag was back on his feet again, she’d shied away.

“But… your face. Your eyesight. Is that wise, do you think?”

Her very proper voice and slow way of speaking knuckled its way into his lower stomach, where he was trying so hard to not let this forest fire of lust get out of control.

Maybe if he fucked it out on someone else, he could just be her well-meaning boss and nothing more.

“I’m good, darlin’.” He winked, “but thanks for caring. You can come down to the basement and make sure I don’t overdo it, if you like.”

It was the first time he’d seen her blush. The color rushed over her cream skin and stained her high cheekbones.

God, she was stunning as she chewed on her lower lip.

And then she stunned the blood rushing to his raging cock when she added. “Da, perhaps I should.”

Tag watched her little ass sway as she walked away, aching to test it out in his hands to see how nicely she fit in his palms. Feet rooted to the floor, tasting her words.

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