JAMES
She's your employee, not your sub.
I forced myself to mentally repeat that fact over and over again as we approached the hotel. Still, I ached to punish Leah for being so reckless. A bartender? Seriously?
My hands fisted at the image of her kissing his cheek, offering the meathead a flirtatious smile.
Somehow, despite the unfamiliar burn of jealousy gripping me, I was hard as a fucking rock. My mind continued to torment me with thoughts of punishing my naughty employee.
We stepped into the warm, bright lobby and I headed for the elevator. When I glanced over my shoulder, Leah was beelining for the hotel bar.
Grinding my teeth, I turned about face and stomped after her.
"Miss Harris," I scolded.
"I'm getting a snack," she snapped. "Leave me alone. I let you drag me back here when I shouldn't have."
There was a time to her voice that I didn't expect and it rattled me. She sounded injured, emotionally. Had I hurt her? Which part of what I'd said had upset her?
I noticed then as I subconsciously surveyed the crowd around the bar that some people were looking at us. It took all the dwindled might in my bones not to smoosh Leah's little round body into the bar with mine and make it very clear who she was with.
Holy fuck. What had come over me? My emotions felt like a freight train speeding off into an abysmal tunnel without brakes. My throat tightened with a panicky swallow.
"I'm trying to protect you," I spoke lowly for only her ears. "Why do you want to make it hard on me?"
She turned, leaning her back against the bar, and arched a brow at me. "The only thing you need to protect me from is yourself, Mr. Muller. I'm completely capable of protecting myself from my own dangers. I suggest you stop overstepping your boundaries before we both do something we regret."
Her words struck me like a barbed bat. I could read her eyes and her voice, both telling a different story than her words. She was still afraid, though. If only she realized my true intentions, my true desires . . . The only pain I wanted to cause her was the pleasurable kind in my bed.
While I knew she would like that more than she'd ever admit aloud, she wasn't ready for it. Frankly, I wasn't either. Still, I craved her like she was my next breath.
Although it physically pained me, I stepped back and forced myself to breathe. "Goodnight, Miss Harris." My eyes washed down her delectable curves before glaring out at the bar crowd in a steely warning. Then I stiffly strode away.
—(—)—
By morning, I felt marginally better. I had taken a few melatonin tablets and floated into the deepest slumber. I cut out enough time in the morning for a brief run through the city. My shins complained of the asphalt.
I'd spent far too many years running on sidewalks and not spongy forest floors. For the first time, I felt a twinge of longing. I missed my new home.
My eyes scanned this city. She felt so familiar and yet estranged from me. I suddenly couldn't help but see her as a shadowy enemy. One that had held me down for all of my adulthood. I hadn't realized the depth of my loathing for people until this very moment.
All the bodies bustling and bumping along. All the cheap shops and screechy vehicles, conveniences of the bodies. I wanted nothing to do with this anymore.
When I rounded back to the hotel, I showered and dressed in jeans and a collared short-sleeve. We upgraded to first class, so I needed to dress the part.
A knot in my stomach hardened as I anticipated seeing Leah. Our conversation last night had left me in a strange mood.
I couldn't control the fucking attraction towards her. I also couldn't control being her asshole boss.
Leah was right: she needed protection only from me. If I captured her, she would be lost. I didn't know how to be with someone without consuming them.
The realization of that sent a pang through my chest, a metal rod of guilt slamming through my ribs.
Marissa's death was ruled an accident. Sometimes I wondered if it truly was. She took just barely enough to die, just barely over the recommended dose.
I hadn't noticed either. When I left for work the next day, she had been curled up on her side like usual.
I didn't think twice about leaving her. Could I have protected her better? From herself or me?
A firm knock at the door startled me from my memories. I crossed the room to the door and opened it. Leah stood outside, her massive suitcase and purse beside her.
She was dressed in a plain white shirt tucked into high-waisted blue jeans with white Keds. Her tits strained against the innocent fabric in a way that made my cock twitch. She needed a size up in her bra or—better yet—stop wearing one in general.
"We need to head out," she said.
I grabbed my carry-on and briefcase before following her to the elevator. Her ass swung deliciously in her jeans. My fingers itched to dive into those back pockets.
While we boarded the elevator and took it to the lobby, I pondered my attraction to her. She should have been a turn-off for so many reasons.
Mostly because I wasn't one to take my brother's sloppy seconds. I also tended to prefer women with slender thighs and narrow hips, arms easily grippable during the throes of sex.
Now all I could see was squeezing her round ass and cupping those supple breasts, imagining the pliant feel of her body under me. She set off some deep, primal hunger inside my body that I never knew existed.
"Hey."
I looked up. Leah was outside the elevator, staring at me with concerned eyes. I used my briefcase to hide the problem bulging against my zipper and tried to banish the wanton thoughts in my head—like sinking into her warm, tight folds—but it was impossible.
I couldn't believe it. Even Marissa hadn't warped my mind this way, simply by existing and walking.
"Are you alright?" Leah asked. "You seem very distracted."
"Yes, I'm fine," was the automatic response.
She huffed. We caught a taxi to the hotel and went through the routine of checking Leah's massive bag and then security. Since we had two hours before our flight, we spent a chunk of that in the airline club, courtesy of our first-class tickets.
I ordered a scotch and worked on non-Foundation work. I checked in with my correspondents regularly. Also, I needed to burn away those thoughts.
Leah wandered around for a bit, making herself some frothy mochaccino or something. Then she nibbled on some of the finger foods they had put out. After watching Netflix on her laptop, she decided to put it all away and sit on the bar stool next to me.
I gave her a side-eye of acknowledgment before returning my attention to my computer. As if I hadn't spent the last hour following her actions anyway.
The bartender strolled up and took her order, a mai tai. Once he whirled off, she turned back to me. I continued to scan the same document I had been trying to read for an hour. Her scrutiny was nearly unbearable to ignore.
"Can I help you, Miss Harris?" I grumbled.
"You have a heart-shaped freckle by your ear," she said.
I immediately looked at her. "What?"
"You have a freckle. And it's heart-shaped." She reached over to trace said marking with her fingertip.
I shivered.
Shrugging, she said, "Just thought you should know."
Strange woman.
We finished our drinks in silence, Leah playing on her phone, until we boarded our plane and flew back to Tennessee.
The flight was peaceful and quiet. I didn't think I would ever fly any other class again. I'd always avoided it to save money, but now I was ruined.
The moment we landed, Leah's phone began blowing up. I tried to ignore all the clatter but I finally looked at her.
"Who could possibly be messaging you like that?"
Her eyes flashed up at mine with a watery sheen. My stomach dropped.
"What happened?" I asked.
"It's . . . my landlord. Someone broke into my apartment." She squeezed her eyes shut and a few tears streamed down her pallid cheeks.
An unsettling feeling took hold of my chest. "Did they take anything? Have they caught who did it?"
She shook her head. "The neighbor reported some noise but by the time the police came, the person was gone. I guess there are no fucking security cameras either. Cheap asshole. From what my landlord's texts say, they ransacked it so it's impossible to tell what was taken. He did say my cat was still there, thank God."
Her voice wavered timidly and I ached to pull her into my chest.
"I'm sorry, Leah," I said. "I'll go with you to get your things. You can come stay with me until you figure things out."
Her eyes opened and she turned on me with wide pupils. "I'm—I mean—I appreciate the offer, James, but I can't. I can't do that. And I have a cat. She's already been through so much—"
"You can bring the cat," I said, despite the tightening in my vocal cords.
Animals were not my thing. They were dirty and liked to destroy things. A cat, inside my new house? It sounded like a nightmare.
But I would tolerate such a situation if it meant sparing Leah from living in fear. It wasn't as if she had anywhere else to go anyway.
Leah wet her lips and obstinately shook her head. "That's generous of you, but I can't. You're my boss. There are just some lines we can't cross."
Fuck the lines! I wanted to snarl.
What good were boundaries if they put her in harm's way? We still didn't know anything about this robber. It could have been a personal attack.
We couldn't rule anything out yet and I couldn't stand the thought of her being in danger.
The plane parked at the gate and the passengers around us gathered their belongings. I stored away my laptop and phone in my bag while my thoughts spun around me like voices vying for dominance.
Turning to Leah, I set my face and voice sternly.
"You won't be safe at your apartment, especially since they don't yet know who did it," I said. "There are few hotels, if any, that will allow pets on such short notice and within a reasonable distance of my house. I want this to interfere with your work as little as possible. From my perspective as your boss, this is the best option. You're going to stay with me. I'm insisting, not offering."
She swallowed and turned away from me. I felt a sliver of remorse at forcing her hand. But, mostly, I felt victorious.
And hard. Very hard.