Page 7 of The Cat's Dom

Her brows snapped together. “Listen, I’m here to do a job. You can’t prevent me from doing it because you think Imightget hurt. You could get hurt, too.”

He almost snorted. “It’s not the same, Baby.”

She crossed her arms again and raised her chin. “That’s sexist.”

Macy rolled his eyes and reached for her arm. “Easy,” he said when she tried to jerk away. “I just want to show you something.”

He wrapped his hand around her wrist. “Do you see this?”

She shrugged.

“My hands could wrap around your arm twice.”

“It’s because you have huge hands.”

“That might be part of it, but the main part is that you’re tiny.” He lined up his arm to hers. “Look at the difference. Who do you think would hurt themselves the most if they fell from the ladder?” Fuck, the thought of her getting hurt was making him crazy. He’d do everything he could to prevent it, he just had to get her to see his point.

Chapter Five

Her mouth turned down. She hated being told what her weaknesses were. She’d been told that if she did this, she’d be pretty. Or if she spoke a certain way, people would listen. If she acted a certain way, she wouldn’t have to be hurt. She tried because she didn’t want to be inferior. But she could do nothing about her bones, so she had to concede. “I see your point,” she said softly and pulled away from him. She turned to get her brush and paint. When she turned back, he was scowling.

“I have a feeling you don’t understand where I’m coming from.”

“I do. I’m just…” She sighed. “I’d like to go to lunch, please.”

“Can I take you somewhere?”

She shook her head. “No, I can do that all by myself.” She knew she sounded defensive but couldn’t help it.

He grabbed onto her upper arm. “You’re not getting it, Baby.”

She looked away from him and almost chuckled. “Oh, I am. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Practice with what?” Macy asked.

“Men telling me what I can and can’t do because I’m inferior.”

“Goddammit. That’s…”

Macy’s phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and cursed again. “I have to take this. Don’t think this is over.”

She pulled away and walked out. She went into the back room and cleaned her brushes. She thought of taking them with her since she bought them, but she thought someone else who took her place could use them.

After wiping her hands off, she looked around. She couldn’t believe how sad she was to be losing this job. She’d thought that, finally, she’d found something she was good at. She wanted to laugh. How many times did she have to go through this?

She walked outside and got into her car. She drove several miles before pulling over, taking her phone out, and dialing.

“Hey,” Link answered.

“Hi. I hope this doesn’t mess you up, but I can’t return to the job.”

“Really, why?” he asked.

She angrily wiped away the tear that slid down her face. “It’s just not working out. I’m sorry.”

“Wait. What happened?”

“Nothing new.” She tried to laugh. “I just have to find something I’m good at.”

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