Page 106 of Point of Contention
“Stay here today,” I said. “Naked. In my bed.”
She laughed, then leveled her gaze on me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A sex slave just sitting here all day, awaiting the return of her master.”
My cock hardened and I reached down to adjust it.
Rylan’s gaze followed my hand and she bit down on her bottom lip.
“I can’t be late.”
Her eyes flicked up to mine and she rolled onto her back, huffing loudly. “Fine.”
“Move in with me.”
She propped herself up on her elbows. The suggestion hung in the air between us, and as she watched me quietly, my heart kicked into overdrive. Then she finally said, “Okay.”
My hands stilled on a button halfway up my shirt. “What?”
She shrugged. “I said okay.”
“Rylan.” I finished buttoning my dress shirt as I strode toward her, then began roping my tie into a half-Windsor knot.
“Well, it makes sense. My mom wants to move to New York, and there’s no room for her…” Rylan’s voice trailed off and her eyes went distant.
I sat down on the bed and ran my hand over her thigh. “Hey, look at me.”
“Sorry.” She blinked, coming back to me. “There wasn’t room before,” she clarified, “because of the professor.”
“Ah.” Nodding, I offered her a slight smile and squeezed her thigh. “But there is now.”
She nodded.
“I understand.” Tilting my head, I held her gaze. “I’d still like you to move in here with me. Because you want to, not because your mom needs a place to live.”
“Okay.” She nodded again.
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s difficult to be your sex slave when you’re all the way across town.”
“So we agree.” Grinning, I leaned down and kissed her. “We’re going to get along swimmingly.”
“Oh my god.”
“What?” I asked as I rose to my feet and pulled on my jacket.
“Swimmingly? Did you lie about your age, old man?”
My lips pressed together tightly.
She raised her eyebrows in challenge, then arched her back, pushing her tits higher into the air.
I focused on them as I tended to the French cuffs of my shirt, and her legs moved beneath the white sheet to press together. Smirking, I lifted my gaze back to her eyes. “I’ll send someone for your things—”
“What?” Her brow furrowed and she sat up. “Cabot, no.”
“No?”
“No.” Grabbing the sheet, she tore it off the bed and strode toward me, looking every bit the goddess she was. “I need to go home. Tell my mom. Tell Greer.” Her eyes widened at that thought and I tilted my head. “I have to pack…” She laughed as she stopped in front of me. “You know, normal things you do before you move.”
