Page 11 of Kingpin's Baby
I want to kiss that attitude from her. Kiss her or smack her sweet arse until she agrees with me. She’s a princess, I won’t have anyone say otherwise. Not even her.
“Understand?”
“Yes,” she whimpers.
Pain digs into my chest. I’m hurting her.
I release her hair and sit back.
“Now, be a good girl and print those documents so we can look at them together.”
“Yes, Mr Booth,” she replies, smoothing her T-shirt as she rises, her spine straighter, her head higher even as she figures out how to make the printer work. I catch a pleased smile as she gathers up the papers.
Huh. Maybe she wasn’t hurt…
“They want details about music, too.” She sits back down, closer this time, and our fingers touch as she passes me the printouts.
“What music would you like?”
Clasping her hands together, as though she’s treasuring the place where we made contact as much as I did, she bites her lip. “Something traditional? Classic? But I don’t know any of the names of the pieces, and I’m confused.”
Side by side, her arm brushing mine when one of us indicates a phrase, or searches for a paper, we work through every decision on her list, and as we do, Ren’s confidence blooms. It’s so natural. Just like when we play death or donuts, we go back and forth about the details, serious and playful at the same time.
We’re there for hours. Harvey brings lunch, and Ren nibbles the excellent sandwiches made by my chef. I’ve never had anyone to workwith, apart from Ren. Harvey might be my second-in-command, but he wouldn’t dare challenge me, shy but determined, like Ren does. The closest I’ve ever been to sharing my burdens is showing Ren the daily dilemmas. That person defaulting on their loan, this other selling secrets to Westminster.
She’s young and unworldly, and I find it charming that when I suggest flowers, poems, or music she clearly doesn’t know what I mean, and agrees, taking copious notes and asking me for the spellings of lisianthus and Mendelssohn.
I wonder what else would be new to her? I’d love to introduce her to all the best aspects of life…
My cock goes hard at the thought, and it takes everything in me to focus on what she’s saying rather than speculate about whether I’d be the first to lick her sweet folds.
Look, I can control myself around her. More or less.
“There’s a part here about rings…” Ren says tentatively. “What do you think?”
“I’ll sort those.”
“I don’t want to inconvenience you,” she protests.
“You’re not.” But there’s something else, isn’t there? “Hold on.”
Ren gasps as the lowermost shelf of books behind my desk swings open to reveal the safe.
“That’s so cool!”
I grin as I pull the flat leather case out. Another first for me.
“I’m not sure what’s in here,” I say as I settle back onto the sofa next to her, and she shuffles until her bare arm rustles my shirtsleeve. I’ve never had any impulse to think about engagement rings or shiny adornments. Until now.
The clasp is a bit stiff, but the lid pops open and Ren gives a sigh as row upon row of rings and necklaces appear.
“Choose whatever you like, and consider it an engagement present.” I like the idea of her wearing my ring.
“Why do you have all this jewellery?” She skims her forefinger over the gems.
“Fulham has been around for a while.” I am loving my understatements today.
“Were these your mother’s?”
