Page 17 of Bossed By the Orc

I’d been fighting the urge to throw her over my shoulder and bring her here. Now that she was finally in my space, her scent perfuming the air as it should, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. Taking her to my bed would be a good option, but as she threw a narrow-eyed look my way, I figured we weren’t there yet.

Heaving a quick sigh of disappointment, I led her toward the hallway that would take us toward the bedrooms. There were three, each with an en suite bathroom. The master, which was mine, Rudgar’s, which he’d abandoned so fast when he’d become an adult that I was offended, and the guest bedroom, which was next to mine.

I took her to the guest bedroom—begrudging every second she wasn’t in my bed—and put her two bags and sewing machine next to the bed. She was looking around the room, her eyes wide with what I hoped would be delight. The moment was disturbed when her stomach gave a loud growl. I turned narrowed eyes her way as her hand went to her stomach and she looked away from me.

Why wouldn’t she tell me that she’s hungry?

I didn’t allow her to speak. I grabbed her hand instead, leading her out of the room and back toward the kitchen. She made a small sound in the back of her throat, but I ignored it, leading her to where I wanted her. I opened the refrigerators and the pantry.

“There’s always food here. You’re never going to go hungry, do you understand me?” I snapped, struggling to quell the fury in my voice, but I knew I was failing. Her jaw fell open as she looked around, but I ignored it, tugging her in front of me to face the food.

“Pick something,” I commanded.

She stepped back, but that pressed her ass directly against my cock. It had decided to behave while I was trying to feed her, but gave a rousing cheer as she gave it attention. She jerked away, spinning to face me.

“Pick. Something.” My entire focus was on her, but I needed to make sure she was cared for before I started my courting. If her glare was a laser, I would have been incinerated in a second. She spun back to the refrigerator and I watched as she stiffened from head to toe.

“What’s wrong? There’s more stuff in the other one if—” I cut myself off as she reached out hesitantly, taking a bowl of lychees off of a shelf. I grunted, reaching in and grabbing more fruit, my arms piled high before dumping everything on the island behind me.

I put my hand on the small of her back—my new favorite place to touch—and I led her to the closest seat. My hands went to her waist now, lifting her onto the bar stool. It was made with orc-sized proportions in mind, so my female was now closer to eye-level with me.

“Eat,” I demanded, using my arm to sweep the entire assortment of fruits in front of her. “And you need more variety. I’m making you a sandwich.”

I moved back to the refrigerator, collecting ingredients, my ire easing as she started eating. The little noises of delight leaving her made me relax, happiness bubbling inside of me as I made a sloppy version of a turkey sandwich. I put the plate in front of her and waited not-so-patiently until she took a bite.

She narrowed her eyes at me, but when she did, I grunted my approval again, moving to make myself a few sandwiches as well. I settled next to her with my plate and we ate in companionable silence. She kept peeking at me out of the corner of her eye and I—ever the gentlemale—pretended not to notice.

“I…” She started before sighing and spinning on her stool to face me. I did the same, bracketing her legs with mine. She gave an adorable little squeak, but I didn’t move, keeping her in place as well. “Thank you for the food,” she tried again.

Her voice was higher pitched than usual and she wasn’t meeting my gaze, focused on somewhere above my head. I hid my amusement at her avoidance.

“No problem. I can’t say that I’m not pissed that you’d let yourself get to that point, though. We could have stopped for something before we went to your apartment,” I listed, using my fingers to count, “or when we left your apartment. Definitely before we got here. What were you thinking?”

Her nose was scrunching in that adorable way it did when she got angry. My cock perked to attention as I saw the temper brewing in her. My female was a fiery one and she wasn’t afraid to let it show.

“I was thinking that I’m an adult and can make my own choices about food,” she growled and it was everything I could do to stop myself from grabbing her and pulling her against me so all that ferociousness was released on me.

“I’m not saying you can’t make your own decisions, Penelope,” I growled right back. “I’m saying that you can’t go hungry. Not on my watch. I need to know if you need something to make you comfortable and happy.”

Her ire was dying and I watched as she blinked at me as though I was some strange experiment she’d never seen before.

“I don’t think that’s part of the contract,” she whispered, searching my face.

“Then I’ll change the damn terms. But I need that from you. Give me your word,” I insisted. I wasn’t going to let this lie. I watched her relax, her gorgeous eyes softening as she nodded.

“Okay.”

I grunted my approval, taking the plate from her and putting it in the dishwasher. “Now that you’ve agreed to be reasonable,” I started, just to see the temper snap back into her eyes, “I can give you the rest of the tour.”

“I’m always reasonable. But you probably think that anyone who stands up to your bullying is unreasonable,” she hissed.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “It’s not bullying if I’m right.”

“But you’re not right all the time,” she insisted as I walked off. She followed close, on my heels, so much smaller than me, but not willing to give in to me. I rubbed at my mouth, struggling to stop from smiling.

“I’ve made one mistake with you,” I told her, keeping my tone casual. I tucked her tiny hand into mine as we walked, running my blunt nails gently along her palm. “And I tried to fix it. You’ll never have to worry about your job when it comes to me.”

She didn’t know me well enough to know what my word stood for, but it was a damn lot. And I’d never break her trust.

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