Page 17 of Grimm

“I suppose so.” She went to the bed where she sat on the edge, then grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest.

“You mentioned your friends might look for you, but you said nothing about family,” he pressed on, picking up on her unease.

“I don’t have any,” she answered, keeping her gaze lowered.

“No parents?”

She pinched her bottom lip between her forefinger and thumb.

“Remember, not answering me isn’t allowed,” he warned.

She let go of her lip. “My mom died when I was around five. Massive heart attack.”

He stepped toward her. “And your father?”

“Crawled into a bottle and never came out.” She hugged the pillow tighter. “Child Protective Services took me from him when I was ten.”

“Foster care?” He froze.

“Well, first they shuffled me from one extended family member to another. Any cousins my parents had, then an old aunt who died while I was there. When I was sixteen, they put me in foster care. I aged out.”

“How many homes?”

“Eleven,” she said with half a laugh. “I tried not to be any trouble, but I was just another mouth to feed, another person to deal with, and most of my parents’ relatives were poor. They agreed to take me for the government check, but, well, even that wasn’t enough to help, I guess.”

No wonder she adjusted easily to situations. As far as she knew, the current scenario wouldn’t last long, anyway. And then she’d be shuffled off to the next one.

“I met Megan in college. She’s the only family I’ve ever really had. I know she didn’t do this on purpose. She wouldn’t have done this to me.” She sighed.

He rubbed the back of his neck. After her history, she still believed there could be someone loyal and kind? That Megan hadn’t just found a better offer and took off?

“We can talk about Megan tomorrow,” he offered. Telling her to stop bringing it up wouldn’t work. He could threaten to spank her again, but something in him knew it was the wrong approach.

To shut her off from something important to her would make her distance herself from him. No. He’d hear her out in the morning, and then he’d decide how to proceed. For now, he had other tasks in mind.

“My men brought your things from your apartment. Clothes and stuff. You can go through the boxes tomorrow. Right now, it’s late.” He slipped out of his suit jacket and flung it onto the armchair. On top of it, he tossed his tie and his shirt. She averted her gaze, but only briefly, when he stepped out of his trousers and boxers.

“Daniella, look at me,” he instructed when she lowered her gaze to his bare feet.

Slowly, she brought up her chin, and her eyes met his. A fresh pink hue covered her cheeks, and she was back to pinching her lip between her fingers.

“How does your ass feel?” he asked casually.

“My, oh! Fine. It’s fine,” she answered, squirming on the bed until she was sitting in the middle. He advanced on her, climbing on the bed with her.

“Let me see. Lie on your stomach.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed, her eyes wide and curious.

“Go on. Lie on your stomach.”

She gave a little nod, rolled onto her stomach, and straightened out her legs, stiff as a board.

He chuckled. “Relax, Daniella. I’m not going to hurt you tonight.” He lowered his mouth to her back and trailed kisses down her spine to her ass. It was a bit pink in the spots he’d focused on, but no bruising.

Using just the tips of his fingers, he skimmed the soft skin of her ass, lower and lower until he found the wetness he desired.

“What’s this, Daniella?” he asked in mock surprise. He spread her cheeks as wide as he could and blew a slow stream of air over her glistening sex.

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