Page 20 of His Little Secret in Discretion
I chuckled, leaning back on the bench as she turned to the mirror, kneeling as she fixed her ponytail.
As much as I wanted to listen to Kiki’s voice of reason… I couldn’t. Maia and I just clicked. There was something abouther that flipped a switch in me, something that made the possessiveness I swore I didn’t have crawl to the surface.
Especially when I thought about her going back to Vaughn or any other jackass, letting sleazy men with fat wallets and small dicks devour her with their eyes.
“You really would’ve gone back to Vaughn or some other creep for a job?” I muttered.
She sighed, meeting my gaze through the mirror. “I wouldn’t have a choice, Blaine.”
“Why do you need the money so badly?” I pressed, leaning forward, elbows on my knees.
Her shoulders tensed. She looked away.
I wasn’t Sherlock Holmes, wasn’t fucking Inspector Gadget—but I knew when someone was carrying more than they admitted.
“My uncle,” she whispered. “He owes a very large debt. He used to gamble, and the man he owes is… persistent about collecting. After my uncle went to rehab, I took on the burden. To ease his mind.” Her shrug was small, but her voice cracked. “He was drowning. And because he raised me, because he was there for me, I felt like I didn’t have a choice but to help.”
“What if I wanted to give you choices?” I muttered.
Her brows pinched. “Choices?”
“Financial freedom. If you’ll let me.”
She turned, sitting back on the floor now, studying me carefully.
“Blaine… I don’t know. It feels like a handout. Like I’d just be bleeding your pockets. I don’t want to suck you dry.”
My eyes locked with hers. “What if I wanted you to?”
The shift was instant. The flicker in her eyes, her lips parting before curling into a seductive smile.
“Then I’d say I already did a pretty good job of that last night,” she giggled, and I rolled my eyes at the double meaning.
Leaning back, I beckoned her over with a finger. Instead of standing like a normal fucking person, the little temptress crawled over. Slow, deliberate, gaze locked on mine with those doe eyes that made my cock twitch.
She stopped in front of me, waiting. I tilted her chin up, bringing her closer until her pouty mouth was all I could focus on. Her scent, her warmth, everything about her tested my composure.
“Why won’t you let me take care of you?” I asked, voice low.
She bit her lip. “Well… why would you want to?”
And fuck if I didn’t ask myself the same thing. I barely knew her. A one-night stand gone too far. So why did I suddenly feel like strapping on a shining suit of armor and guarding her like she was mine?
“I don’t know why,” I admitted. “I just do.”
“I’m not a damsel in distress,” she whispered.
My hand tightened on her jaw. “No. You’re an expensive goddess who deserves to be spoiled rotten.”
“So your proposition is… to be my sugar daddy?” she teased, giggling at the title.
“To an extent, sure,” I muttered, groaning at how smug she looked.
“Why assume I like to be spoiled?”
“Because your eyes lit up in the hotel room, in my penthouse, in my car…”
She shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe I just like the finer things.”
