Page 6 of Vermilion Desire

“Cal is making breakfast. Go wash up and come to the kitchen.”

“He sucks at cooking.” She groans, hiding her face into the cover for a moment before she grumpily sticks her head out.

I’m sure it can’t be that bad. Cal and I work on unstable shifts because even if our shift is over, there are emergency calls that kick us out of bed without remorse. It takes a while to get used to, and no one is truly able to withstand that kind of lifestyle.

I love my job too much to retire. I’m not at that age yet, but being a detective is a high-risk career that allows me to have an earlier retirement age.

Due to that fact, we aren’t able to make food, so readymade food is our best friend.

I wrap my hand around her small arm, and with a little bit of strength, she’s flying up with a mop of red hair falling on her face. She whines, shaking her head with a huff.

Scarletta drops her head down on my thigh, rubbing her head on me and sighing before she closes her eyes again.

This isn’t good. When she is innocently mimicking an affectionate cat, her head nudged the tent in my pants. I’m hard and struggling to not make a sound to scare her away, but it’s impossible to be unaffected by her.

I thread my hand through her hair to stop her squirming head; she murmurs with heavy eyes. Her big amber eyes blink hazily up at me, confusion falling on her pretty face as she purrs deep in her throat.

“Mr. Wolf?” she questions softly.

I feel like I’m living up to my name. The stalker tendencies of needing to know her every movement throughout the day, the haunting obsession that threatens my ability to judge a character at first glance because everyone is an enemy in my eyes who wants to steal my little red.

The big bad wolf is not happy with that thought.

“Be a good girl and go wash up.” I pet her head, and she closed her eyes again.

“Why? It’s so early—” Before she could finish her sentence, the alarm on her phone startles her as her body jerks in surprise. I hold her down just in time as her eyes widen in realization.

“Oh!” she yelps. “I’m going to be late!”

She scrambles out of my lap and darts out of the bedroom until I hear Cal’s voice calling for her to be careful because he’s not paying for her hospital bills if she cracks her skull open.

Maybe I should start measuring my floors to install carpets. It’ll absorb more impact than wooden floors.

I bring my pillow up to my nose, inhaling the sweet scent and growling in my throat. A part of me wants to throw hygiene out of the window and never wash this pillow or the sheets, but I remember that Scarletta will be living with me for the next six months while Cal is busy with his captain training.

I’ll have to think of a way to make this living situation permanent.

“Mr. Wolf? Are you coming?” Scarletta pokes her head through the door with a grin.

I jerk my head, standing from the bed and dropping the pillow hastily. If she saw me being a damn pervert, she doesn’t mention it as she skips down the hall with a bounce in her steps. It also triggers her perky round ass to move in such a hypnotizing way.

“I got delivery,” Cal says as he points to the bags of food.

It’s expected from a man who has never cooked in his life. I’m decent in the kitchen, nothing too delicious because I like simplicity, and the fewer dishes mean I have more time to relax from a strenuous day of work.

“You should sign up for cooking classes, uncle.” Scarletta digs through the bag.

Her eyes wander around the messy kitchen table with a bunch of scattered papers. She stops at a picture of Braxton Berkshire, and she just stares, no emotion flashing in her eyes as she blinks. Cal collects the papers with a loud rasp of his knuckles on her skull; she winces with a grimace before pouting at him.

“What did I say about being nosy?” he asks, but he’s not expecting an answer as Scarletta bites into a waffle with her bare hands.

She shrieks, taking her hands off the steaming waffle, and puffy steam erupts from the broken piece of waffle between her teeth.

My body reacted before I could think and pull the piece of food from her mouth. By the time I got my hand on it, it’s already cool enough to handle as she licks her teeth with a flinch.

“Good?” I inquire quietly.

She nods, opening her mouth for the piece of waffle in my hand. I would like to feed her something else as my cock throbs dully in my pants. The need to deal with it becomes stronger as she sticks out her tongue to welcome the waffle back into her waiting mouth.

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