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“Yes, ma’am.” He waited, looking at her with an impassive face until she backed out and turned around. “Have a nice weekend, Mrs. Verlaine.”

“Thank you,” she said, but did not wish him the same.

He shut the door and rolled his eyes.

LuAnn picked up the frying pan and turned on the water in the sink, scrubbing it with a fierceness it didn’t deserve.

He walked over and gently clasped her shoulders. “Thank you for making breakfast.”

Her shoulders sagged. “I didn’t mean to burn the laminate. What do you think will happen?”

“I’ll probably have to pay for it. It was an accident, mouse, I’m not mad.”

“I’m sorry I made a mess.” Her eyes filled with tears.

He smiled and touched her nose. She was being silly and he found it endearing. “You cleaned it up. It’s over. Are you going to try again, or are we eating toast for breakfast?”

She swiped a tear with the back of her hand and squared her shoulders. “I’ll try again. Oh, wait,” she said, slumping. “You’re out of eggs.”

He gave her a reassuring grin. “Toast it is, then. How about I make it while you get dressed?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, sending a thrill of excitement straight to his cock. She looked so sweet in her nightgown with her head bowed in submission. He glanced at her breasts shifting underneath the thin fabric. Why were her nipples hard? He stepped back and allowed her to pass him before he did something stupid like pin her against the kitchen counter and screw her until she screamed.

He made the toast, slathering on a thick layer of butter and jam and cutting them into little triangles, as if she was a small child. He set them at the table with a glass of milk. For some reason, he was getting into the caretaking role with her. When she came out, he held out her chair for her, smirking when she winced sitting down. He placed a napkin on her lap. She looked up at him, blushing.

He shrugged and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Eat up, sweetheart.”

Brad had her so mixed up and befuddled, she hardly remembered how to speak. The fact that he treated her like a child infuriated her...except that she rather enjoyed being the center of his attention. Had he really cut her toast into little squares? Did he think she was six years old?

Her bottom still tingled from the swats he’d landed on it for swearing, so sitting on the hard wooden chair hurt her tender cheeks. She watched Brad’s tall, broad-shouldered figure as he moved about the kitchen, cleaning up the rest of her mess, and scrubbing the burn mark on the counter as he made his own toast. Just watching his muscular form and the chiseled lines of his jaw brought butterflies to her belly.

It was odd to see a man so efficient in the kitchen, but she supposed he’d lived on his own for six years now. She wondered if he had girlfriends over much. Probably not, if that was how his landlady reacted to guests. That thought came as a distinct relief.

When he finished buttering his toast, he plopped down across from her.

“Why did you move away instead of staying with us during college?” She’d hated when he left, and then he hardly visited, staying away despite the fact that he only lived two hours away.

“I’m not like Brian. I don’t kiss authority’s ass, and I don’t particularly like living under another man’s rule. Your dad wanted to help us, I know, but I couldn’t bear to be taken under his wing like Brian.” A muscle in his jaw tightened. “All the advice and admonishments—It just wasn’t my thing.”

“You don’t like my dad, do you?”

He chewed a bit of toast and swallowed before he spoke. “It’s not that. Yeah, I was mad at my mom for getting married after my dad died. But it wasn’t your pop’s fault. He makes her happy and he provides her with a good life, so I have no right to complain. I was still a kid when we moved in together, even though I thought I was a man.”

She’d thought he was a man, too. “You sure made things harder on yourself by insisting on working your own way through college.”

He laid one of his lazy grins on her. “See that’s the part your old man never understood. I don’t mind hard work. I’d just rather work my tail off and be my own man than be under the thumb of someone else.”

“But now you have a boss at the architecture firm who you have to please, right?”

He looked chagrined. “I do. But I plan to open my own architecture firm as soon as I have enough experience. I definitely wasn’t made to do another man’s bidding.”

She considered whether she was. She hadn’t given one whit about Mrs. McCormick’s rules when she’d lived in the dorm, but something about Brad made her want to do everything he asked. As if Brad knew her thoughts, his eyes swept over her face and down to her breasts with a predatory gaze. Her neck grew warm. What would Brad’s bidding be? She’d be living here under his rules, and he’d already made it clear what the consequences for disobedience would be. Her sex contracted, thinking about the bare-bottomed session over his knees and his threat to make her stand in the corner with her panties down.

“Make me that list of your class times and schedule, because those will be the only times you’re allowed out of this apartment without special permission.”

“You were serious about grounding me?”

“Yes, young lady, I was.”