Page 27 of Fitch

I really liked that name.

And he looked smoking fucking hot in that suit. All powerful, confident, and damn, if it didn’t make my body ache. I wanted him to do me hard while he wore that suit.

I also learned that I was now thinking of him asmy Dom, which probably wasn’t too surprising. Because he was my client. But I also learned that I didn’t tell Benji about my agreement with him.

I was going to, but Benji had enough to worry about right now. And hell, after our world’s just collided head-on, there was a very good chance Dom was going to put an end to our arrangement.

Which was why I played a hard and dirty game when I went to my knees at Dom’s feet.

I knew damn well how much he’d like it.

I even gave him the eyelash flutter and pouted. It totally worked because Dom growled. “Christ, get up,” he said, then pulled me up by my arm.

So I crawled onto his lap, making myself as small as possible with my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

Dom growled again and basically shoved me off him and onto the couch next to him. “Behave.” Then he stood up. “I should go.”

I stood up too, sliding my hand along his fingers before tugging on his jacket sleeve. “If you won’t take me to your place, you can drive me to mine.”

Dom cut me a look that I was pretty sure was all anger and no patience. “Fine,” he hissed.

He was going to punish me for this and I couldn’t wait.

Still tugging on his jacket sleeve, I led him toward the door and grinned at Benji. “Bye.” Then even when he was talking to Nolan, I was still trying to pull him out the door.

I needed him to punish me, immediately.

Dom growled and pulled his hand free. “Sorry,” he said to Nolan. “He’s a...”

“He’s a brat,” Benji finished for him.

I laughed as Dom said goodbye to Benji, but I was too impatient. As soon as their door was closed and it was just me and Dom, I took his hand and pulled him toward the elevator. “Hurry, daddy.”

I thumped the elevator button and the doors opened immediately. As soon as Dom saw we were alone, he shoved me against the wall, his hand firm on my wrist, and pinned it to the wall beside us. “You need a lesson in manners,” he said.

I couldn’t really work out if this was all part of the game or if he was legit mad at me.

I decided to tempt fate and lean into the latter. “So teach me, daddy. Take me home and teach me.”

He hissed and took a step back, letting go of my wrist as the doors opened. I followed him to his car, his strides way longer and more determined than mine. I had to jog to catch up.

He unlocked his car and held my door for me. Still mad, still a good daddy.

He even put his hand on top of my hair to make sure I didn’t bang my head. I smiled up at him and he shut the door with more force than was probably necessary.

He stalked around his car, and damn, if he didn’t look even fucking hotter. He slid in behind the wheel, and I just couldn’t help myself. “You in that suit? Hottest thing I’ve ever seen. The way it hugs your body,” I murmured. “I really need you to fuck me while you wear it.”

He shot me a livid look. Even his nostrils flared.

Oh.

Uh, I think he’s actually mad at me.

I shrank back in my seat, and not wanting to see anger or loathing in his eyes, I looked away. “Sorry.”

After a pause, he sighed. His hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white.

Then he sighed again, and I realised he wasn’t sighing, per se. He was trying to calm down.

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