Page 16 of Bind Me, Sir

“I’ll scan and email them right now,” I said, getting up from my desk.

“Are you heading up to Adam’s anytime soon?”

I placed the first of the papers onto my scanner, my cock twitching at the thought of running into the curvy brunette who haunted my every fantasy. “I’m heading up there again this weekend.”

“Weren’t you just up there a couple weeks ago? Sounds like you’ve finally started having fun again.”

My turn to snort. “You know me better than that.”

“Garret going, too?”

“No.” I frowned. “His sister got into trouble again.”

“What a tasty little morsel she is,” Rian half-groaned, and I rolled my eyes.

“She’s young enough to be your daughter.”

He snorted. “Hardly.”

“Still. She’s a Hollywood socialite and you’re an old as fuck FBI agent half-dried up and ready to retire.”

“I’m in my fucking prime I’ll have you know, my lord.”

“I never accepted that title,” I reminded him, and he chuckled.

“Think I might try to mosey on up there this weekend myself, but if I do, let Adam know I’ll bring along my own sub.”

“New flavor of the month?” I asked, knowing all-too well he went through women like toilet paper—same as Garret.

“My strawberry for the week,” Rian shot back.

I hung up a few minutes later, laughing for the first time in too long, while making my way to my paper shredder. No one but Garret, Adam, and I knew about the information I’d sent along to the FBI, and no one ever would.

Glancing at my clock, I considered cancelling my meeting for the afternoon with the manager for the company we’d merged with earlier in the week. Adam worked remotely Wednesdays through the weekend, and while I trusted Garret, I felt responsible for having been the one to find the flailing company we welcomed with open arms.

I decided I would fly up once I finished with my meeting which would be too late to catch a glimpse of Natalie. Perhaps I would get lucky enough to bump into her in the hallways before breakfast.

Chapter Eight

Natalie

My sister officially hated me—but she agreed to go to the detox facility our intervention counselor recommended. She had left Wednesday, just two days earlier, and the burden I’d felt crushing me for years, eased enough that my footsteps felt lighter. I slept through the night without fear and woke with vague memories of dreams showcasing Mr. Gorgeous Model-Man.

Temptation to ease the tingle between my thighs proved too much, and I rubbed myself until I came in the shower, groaning Jordan’s name as I’d done in my dream.

Somewhat relieved of sexual tension and the cares of my life, I made my way into work on Friday, a smiling woman who had time to care for herself that morning. A bit of mascara and gloss gave me confidence I usually lacked, but I stuck with my frumpy sundresses to beat the summer heat.

Mrs. Hummel met me at the front door.

“The missus asked me to show you to the sunroom,” she said, her sweet southern drawl making me want to melt into her soft bosom same as always. Although old enough to be my grandmother, she still moved with a spry step, her teeth flashing white against her dark skin.

“Breakfast?” I asked, wondering why we would meet where we usually dined rather than the office.

“Yes’m.” Mrs. Hummel hurried ahead of me, and I smiled, quite pleased at the thought of the meal I’d skipped due to taking a longer than usual shower—and wanting to be on time for a change.

Face heating along with my core at memories of what I’d done with my fingers, I followed on the housekeeper’s heels. The dining door stood open, and I pulled up short, barely able to suppress my squeak of surprise.

Mr. Graystone sat beside Adam at the table, both men lounged in their chairs with cups of coffee in hand. Adam saw me first, and he grinned. “Natalie.”

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