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Make Me, Sir (Doms of Decadence Book 5)

Page 5

by Laylah Roberts


  “Someone’s threatening you. They’ve been in your apartment. They left you a threatening note. And you’re turning down my protection.”

  Okay, when he put it like that it did sound like she was acting crazy. Seemed like she was going to have to explain everything. Then he was sure to turn tail and run.

  “Look, I’m kinda weird. I have a certain way of doing things. I might be a little OCD. I like everything in its place, and that’s just the way it’s gotta be, okay?”

  Jesus, she was blushing hot enough to fry eggs on her cheeks. She couldn’t believe she’d just humiliated herself in front of a man she was attracted to. No doubt he’d regret his decision to stay now.

  “All right.”

  “All right, what?” she asked suspiciously.

  “You show me the way you like things. I’ll make sure I keep everything the same.”

  She gaped at him. She’d never once had someone react with such easy acceptance when she told them the full truth about her. Not that she’d told many people. She’d learned to protect herself from ridicule.

  “Just like that?”

  “Yes,” he replied simply. “I’m not stupid.” There’d been a note of something in his voice she couldn’t work out. He’d sounded almost defensive. But she didn’t understand why.

  Reagan ran her hand over her face. “Look, even if you could get used to the way I do things, I’m not easy to get along with. I don’t always read situations right. I often say the wrong thing. I can be bossy. Tara told me you’re a Dom, which means you probably like being in charge. So do I. We’re gonna clash.”

  He remained silent.

  “I’ve had Doms who have suggested I might want to switch to being dominant.”

  “They what?” he asked incredulously.

  “So you see, you might think you're being nice and noble offering to stay here, but I’d only end up driving you insane. You’d be better off just leaving after you’ve put in the rest of the cameras.”

  She turned away. She couldn’t look at him anymore, worried she might just throw herself into his arms and beg him to forget everything she’d just told him. But she was doing them both a favor. She couldn’t stand it if he ended up turning away from her in disgust.

  “Reagan, look at me.”

  She turned, gasping as she found him standing right behind her. “You move like a ghost. Not that I believe in ghosts.”

  He smiled. “I’m staying. We’re gonna get on fine.”

  He said that now. But he hadn’t experienced living with her. The last person to live with her had lasted less than a week.

  She wondered if Tiny would do better than that.

  Chapter Five

  “The cups go in this cupboard. They’re all the same, and the handles face this way. Best let me deal with the fridge. I don’t think you’ll get my system.” Reagan turned to look at Tiny. Hmm, he was still there.

  He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

  “You’re still here. Thought you might have run off by now.”

  He grinned. “It’ll take more than this to scare me.” He’d finished installing all of the cameras about twenty minutes ago and had insisted she show him how she liked things done.

  She placed her hands on her hips. “You won’t like living here with me. I’m abrasive and rude. There’s something wrong with me. Believe me, I know my faults. I drive people insane.”

  His smile was wiped away by a frown. “Who said there’s something wrong with you?”

  “Plenty of people. When I first moved here, I thought I should try to meet people. So I decided to rent out my spare room. I found a woman about my age, she was smart and educated. She lasted three days. Most of my work colleagues steer clear at me. My boss bought me my own fridge and put it in my office so I would quit rearranging the communal fridge in the staff room. And at the club, most of the Doms avoid me.”

  “They avoid you?”

  He looked shocked now. “I thought they would be grateful for instruction about what they were doing wrong, but they seemed to take offense.”

  He leaned back, folding his arms over his wide chest. She swallowed heavily as studied him. He wasn’t overly tall. In fact, he was probably just a few inches taller than she was. But he seemed much larger. Maybe all those muscles made him seem taller. Or maybe it was just Tiny himself. He seemed to suck up all the space in her small kitchen. His short dirty-blond hair was in need of a cut, his jeans and T-shirt were clean but plain, his crooked nose and scar gave him a menacing appearance. Until he smiled. Then he took her breath away.

  “Then they’re not very good Doms.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. Although, Roarke seemed more annoyed at me.” She still didn’t understand it. If someone was doing something wrong, didn’t they want to know so they could better themselves?

  “I’m a very good Dom.”

  “W-what?” She glanced over at him nervously. He hadn’t moved, and yet the room seemed to have shrunk around them.

  “You wouldn’t find me lacking.”

  Oh, dear Lord. No, she was sure she wouldn’t. She couldn’t help but run her gaze over his body. She laughed nervously. “That hardly matters since we won’t be scening together.”

  He simply smiled.

  She took a nervous breath. “I need to make dinner. If you’re staying then I guess I’ll have to get some more groceries. You look like you eat a lot.”

  His smile widened. Her breath caught. When he smiled, it reached his blue eyes, and they sparkled as though they were sharing something special. Something just between the two of them.

  God, why had she agreed to let him stay? Because she was scared? Or because he made her heart race and her insides melt? Maybe a bit of both. This was a bad idea. Yet, she couldn’t make herself tell him no.

  “We can get the groceries now. I’ll cook.”

  She bit her lip. She didn’t know why she was feeling so unsure. Maybe it was because she wasn’t used to having someone in her space. She was usually much more confident and self-assured than this.

  “I usually order them online.”

  He shook his head. “If we leave the apartment, it gives your intruder a chance to break-in.”

  “And that’s a good thing?” Didn’t they want to stop him from breaking in?

  “Only way to catch him.”

  He made a good point. But it still seemed crazy to leave just so her intruder could make an appearance.

  “Won’t your presence make whoever is doing this angrier? Or will having a bodyguard scare them off?”

  “I’m not your bodyguard.”

  Huh?

  “I’m your boyfriend.”

  He wanted to be her boyfriend? Wasn’t that sudden? “Ahh, we don’t know each other very well.”

  “He doesn’t know that.”

  What did that mean? Oh. “You mean pretend to be my boyfriend?”

  “Unless you want it to be real.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.

  “It explains my presence.” Tiny shrugged.

  “What would we need to do? Hold hands or something?”

  “Or something.” He winked, and a shiver ran through her.

  “You don’t think me having a boyfriend will scare him off?”

  “Might escalate things. Make him mad.”

  Right. And that was a good thing? She guessed it was if they wanted to catch him. It just didn’t sound that good to her.

  “You scared?”

  She drew her shoulders back. “No. Of course not. Why would I be afraid of pretending to be your girlfriend?” Although, it did make her decidedly nervous.

  “I meant are you scared of your intruder?”

  Oh right. She felt her cheeks blush hot. “A little. I’d have to be a fool not to be scared, right?”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay to be scared. But you don’t need to be.”

  “Oh, yeah? Why not?”

  “Because I’m gonna protect you.”<
br />
  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at his words. It was his job to protect her, she reminded herself. But she still liked hearing those words. She realized that she felt safe around him. She liked him, which was surprising because she didn’t like that many people.

  Maybe it was because he didn’t treat her like she was a freak. She’d gone through the whole apartment, laid out where everything needed to go, how it needed to be sorted, and all he’d done was nod and listen.

  Acceptance. It wasn’t something she was used to.

  “Come on. I’m hungry.”

  She quickly grabbed her handbag. He opened the apartment door, set the alarm and locked the door, pocketing the key. She frowned, thinking about objecting. After all, that was her key. Her apartment. But before she could say anything, he had his hand on the small of her back and was guiding her down the passage, and she was distracted by his touch.

  As they exited the building, she could feel how tense he’d become. When she glanced up at him, she noticed the way he scanned their surroundings.

  “Are we really in danger? I mean, this person hasn’t done anything violent.” Sometimes she felt like they were overreacting. She wasn’t famous or rich. She was ordinary if a little flawed. Did she seriously need a bodyguard just because of a couple of break-ins and a weird note?

  The tightness in her stomach told her that she did.

  When they reached her car, they paused, and she looked from him to her tiny Mirage. “Are you gonna fit?” Because he dwarfed her car.

  “You callin’ me fat?”

  She gaped at him. “No, of course not. You’re not fat…I would never…”

  He chuckled and patted her shoulder before climbing into the passenger side. She climbed into the driver’s side and gave him a disgruntled look. “You were teasing me.”

  Tiny winked at her, and she shook her head in mock exasperation. “I’m surprised you don’t want to drive.”

  Didn’t Doms like to always be in control?

  “You know the way.”

  The whole shopping expedition went smoothly, except for when it came to who would pay. Reagan was handing over her card when Tiny snatched it out of her hand with a frown.

  “I’m paying.”

  “No. You’re not,” she told him. Funny, she’d expected an argument over other things, like who was driving, but she hadn’t thought he’d insist on paying for the groceries. Shouldn’t she cover his expenses since he was working for her?

  He leaned in, getting so close she could see the tiny flecks of green in his eyes. She was aware of the checkout girl watching in interest, but didn’t back down. Despite the warning, she read loud and clear on Tiny’s face. Hey, maybe she was getting better at reading people, after all. That thought made her smile, and he narrowed his gaze. “What’s so funny?”

  “That you think you’re paying.”

  “Most of this is for me.”

  That was true, she’d never buy this amount of food. But she wasn’t backing down.

  “You work for me.”

  He just snorted, and she didn’t know what that meant. He reached over and handed his card to the girl who snapped her gum. Reagan raised her hand to snatch the card away, and he grabbed her hand, pulling her close. His mouth was against her ear as he whispered, “Grab the card, and I’ll take you over my knee when we get home.”

  She shivered. Whether from the threat or the feel of his mouth against her ear she wasn’t sure. Maybe a mixture of both. Such an arrogant statement shouldn’t fill her with desire and yet, her pussy clenched in reaction, her stomach dropping at the command in his voice. All of a sudden, she couldn’t get the image of her over his knee out of her mind.

  As they climbed into the car after having loaded it with groceries, she looked over at Tiny. “I can’t believe you threatened to spank me in a grocery store.”

  “I’d never spank you in a store. I’d take you home first.”

  “That’s not what I meant. You know I don’t think an employee should threaten to spank their employer.” No matter how turned on she might get at the idea.

  He snorted.

  “Do you threaten to spank all your clients?” she asked, surprised by the surge of jealousy.

  “Only the naughty ones.”

  She stopped at a red light and gaped at him, unsure how to take that. He turned to her and winked. Was he joking then?

  “And you’re not a client. I’m doing this for free.”

  “What?”

  “I’m owed some downtime.”

  “You’re not doing this for free. I’m going to pay you.”

  “Nope.”

  She sighed as she pulled into her parking space. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a difficult man to reason with?”

  “Nope.”

  “And that talking in one word sentences is extremely frustrating for people trying to talk to you?”

  “Yep.”

  There was a definite twinkle in his eyes as he glanced over at her, and she couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

  Chapter Six

  Feeling slightly anxious, Reagan watched Tiny in her kitchen. She tapped her fingers against the countertop as he seasoned a tomato-based sauce then placed spaghetti into a boiling pot. Then he pulled a tray of muffins out of the oven. She’d been surprised when he’d added baking ingredients to the trolley during their grocery shop. But she’d gone along with it, telling herself she could easily clean up any messes he made. Everyone knew men weren’t good at cleaning up after themselves.

  She was going to try to be accommodating while he was here, even if it killed her.

  So when he’d insisted on cooking dinner, she’d only put up a small resistance. Now the apartment was filled with the scent of garlic and tomato, and her mouth was watering.

  Tiny dished up the pasta. It was simple and looked and smelled delicious. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten lunch. She glanced over at Tiny to see if he’d heard, but he merely picked up their plates and carried them over to the dining table.

  “Want some wine?” she asked, grabbing a bottle of red out of the cupboard.

  He shook his head, and she poured herself a small glass. She didn’t drink much, but tonight she might need the added courage. She forced herself to ignore the small mess he’d left. She could eat and then clean up.

  “Smells great. Where did you learn to cook?”

  “My grandmother.”

  Reagan spooned up a mouthful and nearly whimpered. “She must have been an amazing cook.”

  “She was.”

  She didn’t take offense to his short answers. “I never knew my grandparents. My mom’s parents died when she was young, and she was raised by a distant aunt. My dad had a fight with his parents when I was young. Not sure what it was about, but I never got to meet them. I think they died when I was in high school.”

  Tiny remained silent, and she took it as her cue to keep talking.

  “I never had anything to do with my other relatives. My parents weren’t exactly social creatures. We went to church, and sometimes we’d stay after services, and I’d play with a couple of the other kids. But that was rare. Most of the time it was just me, Mom, and Dad. Guess that’s why I have such trouble socially. I didn’t have much interaction with other people.”

  She glanced back at the kitchen but forced herself to stay in her seat. Tiny studied her.

  “You okay?”

  “Yep.” She smiled at him tightly and forced herself to take another bite.

  “You want to clean up the mess?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He pushed his chair back. “I’ll help you.”

  “What? No.” She stood and waved him back. “You stay. Eat. I’ll be just a minute.” Idiot. Knowing she’d grown red with embarrassment, she flew into the kitchen and quickly tidied the mess. Ten minutes later, she sat at the table once again, glancing at his full plate.

  She stared down at her clenched hands. “Sorry.”
What must he think of her? God, why couldn’t she just be like everybody else?

  He leaned over and lifted her face up, his finger beneath her chin. “No need.”

  No need to be sorry? She thought there was every need.

  “I know it’s not normal and now your dinner’s probably cold. You really should have eaten without me—”

  He placed a finger over her lips, stilling her rambling. “That’s what a microwave’s for.”

  She blinked for a minute, not following then smiled a little. Finally, she let out a laugh. “You’re really not annoyed?”

  “Don’t know why I would be.”

  “You’re a special guy, Tiny.”

  “That an insult?”

  “No, of course not,” she said hastily, horrified he would think she’d been insulting him. “I meant—”

  He placed his hand on her shoulder, the warmth of his hand immediately making her breath catch. Her whole body tensed in reaction. “Relax.”

  She let out a deep breath, unaware she’d been holding it. He released her shoulder and started eating.

  “Not sure I like how much you tease me.”

  “But it’s such fun.”

  “For you maybe.” But she smiled to let him know she wasn’t really upset.

  “Didn’t you go to school?” he asked suddenly.

  “No. My mother home-schooled me. My parents believed schools were a place of moral corruption, and they didn’t want the other kids leading me down the wrong path. They were very devout. We used to spend Sunday’s reading scripture, and if I had been particularly willful or disobedient that week, I would have to spend hours on my knees reciting phrases from the old testament or writing lines, passages from the bible my parents thought were particularly relevant in regard to my behavior.”

  She saw his frown.

  “I wasn’t abused or anything,” she said hastily, not wanting him to get the wrong impression. “They never hit me. I was never even spanked. Maybe that’s why I’m so interested in it now.”

  Whoops, she hadn’t meant to say that. Maybe that glass of wine had been a mistake.

  “That so?” He leaned back in his chair, watching her with interest. “Feel free to elaborate.”

 

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