Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 155903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
“Your job here isn’t at risk. You don’t have to let me spank you in order to keep it.”
Okay.
That was good. Right?
Of course it was. She didn’t want her job to be contingent on letting him spank her whenever she messed up.
Because she messed up a lot.
“But if you ever want to be spanked,” he added. “Well, that’s a different thing entirely.”
11
Want to be spanked? By her boss? The man who terrified her most of the time. And the rest of the time pissed her off.
Right. Whenever you aren’t imagining him naked, kissing you, touching you.
Fucking you.
She was in such trouble here.
Faith didn’t even know what to say. Because if she now protested that she didn’t want to be spanked, she was certain he’d know the truth.
He knew everything.
It was like he could see into her soul. Could ferret out all of her secrets.
Which was an asset in his job. But a freaking pain in the ass for her.
So, when a clap of thunder sounded, it was actually a relief for once.
But she still let out a small scream and looked around for a safe place to hide.
There was nowhere except under his desk. That’s where she dove, ignoring the look of shock on his face as she huddled under his massive, wooden desk.
Weirdly, she could catch hints of his scent. Something rich and deep. Cherries and smoked wood.
She was addicted to it. Wanted more of it. And it somehow made her feel safer. Her jittery stomach calmed.
“Little Blossom? Are you all right?”
She closed her eyes. He really was going to think she was nuts.
And why did he keep calling her Little Blossom?
“I’m, um, I . . . fudge knuckles.”
Reuben sighed. Great, she was irritating him.
“I should have just gone home!” she cried.
Fuck.
She slammed her hand over her mouth.
“Would you have been this scared at home?” he asked calmly as he bent over, peering down at her.
In a dark basement?
Alone with just Colin and the mice?
Nope.
She would have been terrified.
He grunted. Great! What did that mean? She wasn’t fluent in grunt. She hated trying to understand what people wanted from her. Mostly because she always got it wrong.
“Come here, Little Blossom.” He held out his hand to her.
There he went, being all nice to her again. She didn’t understand what was happening.
“Didn’t I tell you that I’d keep you safe?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Then out you come. Be a good girl and do as you’re told.”
Urgh.
Those words sank inside her and dug their claws in deep.
Reaching out, she took hold of his hand, and he drew her out from under the desk just as there was another clap of thunder.
Without thought, she threw herself at him. She climbed him like a tree, wrapping her arms and legs around him.
It was only because he was here.
She would have done this with anyone. She wasn’t hanging onto him like a baby monkey because he made her feel safe.
Right?
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she said frantically, trying to get out of his arms. “I didn’t mean to do that. It was the thunder. Sorry!” Why wouldn’t he let her go?
“Faith!”
She stilled at the harsh sound of his voice.
“Y-yes?”
“Be quiet and listen.”
Ouch. But she bit her lip, ready to listen. He carried her over to the large floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Faith,” he grumbled as he set her down on her feet. “Turn around and look.”
Suddenly, she realized she had her face pressed to his chest. She stepped back and bumped into something cold and smooth.
Oh God, any moment now thunder might hit the glass and shatter it. Then she would plunge to her death.
“Hey,” Reuben soothed, reaching for her. “You really don’t like storms, do you? You’re trembling.”
Another clap of thunder. It almost sounded like it was right on top of them. She cried out again, crouching down into a small ball.
Working on instinct, she stuck her thumb in her mouth and started humming.
When she was a kid, she’d always under the covers of her parents’ bed during a thunderstorm. Then she’d suck her thumb while her mom sung to her and her dad held her close.
But her mom and dad weren’t here right now.
And she was too old to hide under the bed anymore.
And you’re not too old to suck your thumb? To hide under a desk?
“Okay, enough of this.” Suddenly, he picked her up.
Wow. He was strong. She wasn’t exactly a lightweight. Yet, he picked her up like she weighed next to nothing and carried her over to the sofa.
Then he sat.
With her on his lap.
This was hugely inappropriate. But she wasn’t moving. She really thought that she might land on her face if she tried. Her legs were like noodles.
“Fuck. I messed that up, didn’t I?” he muttered.
Was that regret in his voice? Surely, she was imagining it.
“I thought showing you the storm would make you less afraid of it.”