Page 115 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
I unfolded the newspaper, pretending to read while Garrett’s eyes kept flicking up in the rearview mirror. Once. Twice. A third time.
“Problem?” I asked, not looking up.
“No, sir.”
Another pause.
“Miss Hart is a lovely young lady,” he chirped.
I turned a page. “Noted.”
“So… not gay then?”
My eyes flicked up, and he made a zipping motion across his lips.
I didn’t tell him to drop her off at my house later. It would leave me open to more ridicule. I’d message him later.
?? ?? ??
The building was still half-asleep when I arrived. Lights flickered on in my wake. It was early enough that no one would question why I wanted her here.
I opened my office door, pausing to glance at where she used to sit. There was zero danger of Allison catching us. She never stepped foot into the office until precisely 8:30 am, unlike Lucia, who’d been at my beck and call.
I placed my bag on my desk, sat in my chair, and turned to look out over the city, which was shrouded in darkness. Perhaps I was waiting to see a glimpse of her.
?? ?? ??
There was no knock—just the faint scrape of my door opening.
I swivelled around and took her in, hungry. Black heels. A deep red dress. A short black jacket. Professional, yet sinful. The outrage in her eyes only made me smile.
“Did you enjoy our movie?”
She said nothing, but stepped forward.
“I especially loved the part where you screamed my name. Hmm. I still remember how hard you ca—”
“Stop it,” she hissed, slapping her bag on my desk.
“Such an angry little kitten,” I said as I stood. “Hissing and spitting.”
I walked around my desk and held out my hand.
She frowned.
“Hand them over.”
She looked me up and down, as if only now realising I was unreasonable when it came to her.
“Your panties. I want you to feel every drop of my come dripping out of you today.”
“You—”
“Yes?”
“You're impossible,” she snapped, but still hiked her dress up.
The black scrap of lace was still warm when I stuffed it into my pocket.
