Page 58 of Jingle Belle's Biker

“Wait here.”

She opens her mouth, but I gun the engine and roar off to see Hastings.

I don’t even wait to be announced by his receptionist.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand.

He stumbles back, scrambling behind his desk. There, he puffs out his chest. I slap down the notice.

“I’ve been calling about that. Handing out the updated letters.”

“You’re stating since they’re not paying much in rent, they have to understand the real-world costs more and more and they need to pay for it. You redid the calculations, and they’re still coming out on top?” I ask. “Were you born a piece of shit, or did you just learn it?”

“Careful, asshole, you work for me, remember?”

“Then I can just not work for you. Find somewhere else or pay the rent for the month. But I’m not doing this.”

“So, now, you don’t want to do your job?”

“Not if you’re giving the fucking devil a run for his money.”

Lance pinches his nose, and he’s a little purple in the face. “I need you.”

“The job, as stated, is clear. I’ll do that or walk.”

“Fine.”

I turn and stalk off.

When I get home, I knock on Belle’s door. She rips it open, her jacket half on. “I’m going to kill Lance.”

“Hey . . .”

I take her face and kiss her.

“Don’t try and placate me with deliciousness,” she says. “Death to Lance.”

“Your bloodthirsty ways turn me on.”

But maybe, I think, maybe I should tell her the truth.

“Belle, look, I just saw him, and?—”

“You did that,” she whispers, eyes wide, “for me?”

Oh, fuck. She thinks . . .

I swallow.

“Belle, I?—”

“Saint.” She throws herself at me, kissing me hard and deep. I lose myself in it, head spinning, dick fucking hard.

I ease her back. I have to tell her the truth. I have to let her know I work for him. It isn’t that bad, but if I leave it . . .

“Belle.”

There’s a faint buzzing sound. She pulls out her phone, frowning. “I have to run like Cinderella,” she says. “Can we continue this? I’m needed at the school.”

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