The Big Boss - Penny Wylder Page 0,14

his gaze square on. “And I pay.”

Raised eyebrows. “Really?”

“It’s that or nothing,” I tell him. “We do this on my terms, or we make a clean break and never see each other again. Not even for a flower delivery.”

“Cactus delivery, technically.”

I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I’ll do it,” he says. “You let me know when and where.”

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I hand to him. Without a word, he takes it and puts in his number, but he’s grinning like a fool and can’t stop. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need a car to get home?”

“I’m fine, I say. My car is a couple blocks away.”

He looks me up and down one more time, as if reassuring himself that I was actually whole and healthy. “Then I’ll see you tonight,” he says with a wink before heading back inside.

I wait until he’s completely out of sight before I let myself smile even a little.

8

Keenan

I collapse onto the couch when I walk into my apartment earlier than I have in months. Even though today was a relatively light day work wise, I’m still exhausted. The amazing sex and the adrenaline of seeing Justine almost run over have taken it out of me.

But I wouldn’t miss tonight’s date for the world.

I’m happy that she’s agreed to see me again—that I somehow convinced her that I wasn’t this evil thing that she seems to think I am. It only took saving her life.

I can’t shake the feeling of terror that I’ve had ever since I saw that car. If I’d been even three more steps away, I wouldn’t have been able to save her. It’s a sobering thought, and one that’s been lodged in my gut all day.

She needs to be safe—I need to keep her safe. My instincts are screaming it. But there’s nothing I can do about it. I just met her yesterday, and even though every cell is screaming that she’s precious and needs to be protected, Justine would punch me for trying to control anything she did.

And I wouldn’t blame her for that.

However, I’m used to being in control. I’ve curated the environment around me so that there’s nothing that can’t be predicted. And I think that’s one of the reasons I’m so draw to her, aside from everything. She’s wild. She can’t be controlled. I love that. And at the same time it makes me anxious.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I manage to rally myself enough to check it. It’s a text from Justine, and suddenly I’m feeling far more awake.

Eight o’clock. Lena’s.

She adds the address as well.

I haven’t heard of it. Is it any good?

I watch the little bubbles on the screen and imagine her in apartment typing. Is she in bed? My mental image of her is tousled and gorgeous, lounging on her bed while she texts me.

Honestly, it’s delicious. I promise.

Anything else you can promise me?

A hesitation. What do you mean?

I laugh softly as I type. I mean you’re buying me dinner. Do you promise not to violate my honor? Just cause you’re paying doesn’t mean I’ll owe you.

Your honor is safe with me. You’ll have to discard your honor on purpose.

That is tempting. Does this place have good desserts?

Delicious, why?

I can’t keep the smirk off my face or the way my dick hardens in my pants. You taste like strawberries, I type out. I thought maybe I’d just eat you.

There’s a long pause where there’s no typing on her end. Long enough for me to wonder if I killed her entirely. But then, finally, two little words that make me stiffen to the point of pain, and blow out a breath in sudden arousal.

We’ll see.

In that case, I can’t wait. There’s not too long before I need to leave. Though I haven’t eaten there, I know where the restaurant is. It’s close enough to walk from here. And since I’m going to wear casual clothes anyway, I might as well.

I take a quick shower, resisting the urge to just spend twenty minutes jacking off to the thought of tasting her again. Especially since the real thing is a possibility. Over the years I’ve gotten really good with my hand, but nothing compares to the real thing. Especially the electric intensity of our connection.

Jeans and a t-shirt are all I wear, per Justine’s instructions. To be perfectly honest, I can’t remember the last time I wore jeans out of the house. Sure, I dress casually at