Christmas with the Older Man – Taoo Daddies Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Taboo Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
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Dominic scoffed. “Sorry, sorority girl. I’m not paying you to plan parties.”

“I wasn’t in a sorority,” I said between gritted teeth. “I was in a service fraternity. You should know this. Jake was in it, too. And I’m not asking you to let me do it on the clock.” Part of me was amazed that I was talking to my boss like this. The rest of me was too angry at him to care if he was my boss or God himself. He was wrong, and I couldn’t stand by and let him ruin the Christmas ball for Mrs. Kloss.

“So you’re going to do it in all that free time you have as a junior associate?” Dominic asked sarcastically. It was true that I would be putting in long hours while I studied up on my clients and learned the ins and outs of the company, but the Christmas ball was only seven weeks away. I could burn the candle at both ends for seven weeks. I’d done it in New York for years.

I pushed my chin out. “Yes. I’ll do it all in my free time. All I’m asking you to do is give me a reasonable budget and let Mrs. Kloss have her Christmas ball. I’ll find a way to make it work.”

Dominic stared at me, exasperation and what I hoped was reluctant acquiescence in his gaze. “Why is this so important to you?”

I couldn’t read his tone. There was his usual irritation, but there was something else, too. Curiosity, maybe. Like he really didn’t understand how I could care so much about an old woman I’d just met. How had this man helped form Jake into the kind, compassionate person I knew him to be? I wouldn’t have had to explain this to him at all.

“Because it’s obviously so important to her,” I said.

“You just met her.”

I shrugged and leaned back in the booth, uncomfortable under Dominic’s scrutiny. “You don’t have to know someone to care about their happiness.”

His eyes flickered, like maybe that wasn’t the case for him. His mouth was pulled into a small frown as he stared at me, assessing me. I didn’t know if he was about to give me permission to go ahead or fire me. I wouldn’t put it past him to do both. Go on and help her. You have nothing better to do now anyway.

I held my breath, hoping that my connection to Jake would grant me this one reprieve, and then I’d stay out of Dominic White’s way forever. “Please,” I said quietly.

Again, his eyes flickered. “Fine,” he said abruptly. “If Mrs. Kloss agrees to a budget and she wants your help, I won’t tell her she can’t afford the party.”

Impulsively, propelled by relief and gratitude, I reached across the table to squeeze his arm. Before I could, Dominic caught my wrist in his other hand, arresting the forward movement. I gasped in surprise and tried to pull back, but his fingers tightened.

“If you weren’t Jake’s best friend, we’d be having a very different conversation,” he said in a low, even voice. “But this is the last time I will treat you any differently. If you disobey a direct order again going forward, you’re done. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” I whispered, unnerved by the intensity of his stare. The skin of his palm and fingers was surprisingly rough, like he worked with his hands instead of behind a desk. His eyes were cold, as always, but a strange warmth was spreading up my arm, fluttering in my chest. My heart felt like a bird beating against the cage of my ribs. I felt hot and cold, dizzy and yet grounded by the connection of his hand wrapped around mine.

Dominic released me suddenly, as though realizing at the same time I did that he shouldn’t be touching me.

So why did I want him to?

7

DOMINIC

I shouldn’t have touched her. The quick, indrawn hiss of her breath between her perfect lips, the way her brown eyes grew even wider, the spots of color that bloomed on her cheeks—they were evidence that I’d fucked up. But for some reason, instead of feeling contrition, I felt…

Shit, it didn’t matter how I felt. I needed to stop picturing Selena Sinclair altogether.

Mrs. Kloss came back to the table only moments after I released Selena’s wrist. My hand was still clenched in a fist on the table. Selena had pulled hers into her lap underneath it. There was a palpable tension between us, a disquiet, but Mrs. Kloss quickly filled it.

“My goodness, is our food not out yet?”

“We haven’t even ordered,” I reminded her, my vocal cords straining with the effort to sound normal.

Mrs. Kloss looked around, and then her eyes brightened. I turned to see a trail of wait staff approaching with trays of tiny little crustless sandwiches, tea cookies, and mugs of whipped-cream laden hot chocolate.


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