Claiming Her - Tory Baker Page 0,3
course, Travis did always tell me to stay away from him. I always assumed it was stupid macho man crap, but maybe there’s something more to his reasoning.
“How have you been? You couldn’t have stopped by and brought some cookies after all these years?” he fires off. His hair is haphazardly over his forehead. He has the boy next door look, yet you know he’s not. To me, though he’s more of a brother.
When he lets go of our hug, I step back, place my hand on my hip, and tell him, “I’m pretty sure that can work both ways.”
“You’re not wrong, but I wasn’t about to wake a sleeping bear.” He winks as he uses his arm to tell me to move my butt and stop letting the bought air out.
“We’ll just agree to disagree on that,” I tell him as I walk inside. A hard chest is what I run into, and that’s what I get for smoothing down my skirt and not watching where I’m going. Today is not my day.
“Oomph,” I grunt. The hands that are holding me by my upper arms leave me with goosebumps pebbling my flesh.
“Taylor.” I’d know that voice anywhere. It’s a deep baritone with a hint of rasp to it. It’s one that had me clenching my legs together anytime I heard him, just to soothe an ache that always formed when he was around.
And I’m not ashamed to admit, Slade has been the center of my fantasies for a while now. He doesn’t even know that while my hands were being used to bring me to orgasm after orgasm, it was him I envisioned, his name I gasped out loud when I came each and every single time.
“Slade,” I all put purr out, like a cat rubbing against its owner. I need to snap out of the fog before he realizes what he does to me in front of his whole office.
“Follow me.” His tone is less than welcoming. If it wasn’t for Travis being adamant that I be here, I wouldn’t be. Hell, at this rate, I’ll need a shot of whiskey to calm my nerves.
I mock salute him, only following his orders. It seems like these men could use some fun in their lives, and maybe I’ll be just the person to deliver it. The whole way to Slade’s office, I try to come up with a plan.
Slade walks around to his desk. “Have a seat, please.” He’s wearing a pair of dark charcoal slacks and a white dress shirt that has the sleeves folded back, showing off the muscles in his forearms and the deep tan that I know is more heritage than from the sun itself. Rich hair falls to his forehead, and he has a five o’clock shadow. His soulful eyes are as dark as the midnight sky.
“I don’t mind if I do.” I smooth my skirt down before taking my seat, ready to get this conversation over and done with.
“Travis didn’t tell me a whole lot about what’s going on, just about some letters that were sent to you. Do you happen to have them with you?”
“Um… no, but I’m pretty sure those were nothing. I shouldn’t have even told Travis. He has more than enough to worry about,” I say honestly.
“Just the same, I’ll take a look at them. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Where are they now? When did you receive the first one? What did it say?” He volleys the conversation, continuing with questions. “Travis would want to know whether he was home or not.”
“They’re at home. I got the first one last Monday, and the second one came on Friday, and then I had another one come earlier this week.” I wince when I see his jaw tick.
“Come on. We’ll go back to your house, grab the letters, and I’ll check your locks and go from there,” he all but demands.
“If that will give you and Travis peace of mind, let’s go.” I stand up, dig in my bag yet again to find my sunglasses and keys when I notice something in my bag, something that wasn’t there earlier when I left the courthouse.
“Mother trucker,” I grumble when I pull out the white envelope that’s addressed in my name.
“Goddamn it, how did that get in your purse?” Slade growls out.
“I’m not sure. My purse is basically with me all day at work. The only thing I can think of is when I was practically run over by someone