Page 32 of Come Here and Kiss Me

CHAPTER12

Ronan

Afew days pass with ease between myself and Brook.

Almost too easy.

It appears she has a fondness for gifts, even if those gifts are boxes of things she already owns. The past three days have been just like today.

When I wake up, her small frame is pressed to mine, and I have to carefully climb out of bed so I don’t disturb her.

I quietly leave the apartment before she’s up, allowing her to be sound asleep in my bed, looking far too innocent and at peace and like she belongs there. We share small glances in the halls of the university when I see her around one fifteen as she goes from one class to the other.

Today, she wore a sexy little tweed number I recall hanging on the rack from her place. My little whore looks like she could handle a boardroom in that dress suit. Around three, she texts me something highly inappropriate, which I’m looking forward to more and more.

Today was a snapshot down her blouse. The lingerie hugging her curves with her pouty bottom lip just barely seen in the picture.

Fuck me.I don’t know how she delicately balances innocence with sex kitten, but the combo has me under a spell with this woman.

I take my phone out for another peek at the photo she sent me. I close my eyes in the empty lecture hall as I gather my things and stifle a groan as I click the briefcase shut on my desk and know she’s waiting only for me.

Every day at six fifteen, which my Rolex reads is the time right now, I can finally head home, a briefcase in hand and a hard-on for her gorgeous ass.

Our routine continues.

I get home, we have a quick fuck and then takeout with small talk. We round out the night with her pretending to read from a textbook while some trashy reality TV show plays in the background. All the while, she lays next to me on the couch while I catch up on emails and, unbeknownst to her, updates from the PI and lawyers.

Just before I leave the lecture hall, I grit my teeth as my phone goes off again. This time, it’s an email from the fucking dean.

Her old man.

I check the time. 6:17 p.m.Shoving the spike of anger down, I click the email. I know it’s about the emergency board meeting called by her father this morning.The one I decided to ignore.

That fucking prick.

No one knows about the bullshit between our lawyers unless her father told them this morning. He would be a fool to do so, and although I don’t respect the prick, I’ve never thought him to be short-sighted.Other than that, though, I have no idea what the meeting could be about.

He should have known I’d issue a C&D with the bullshit he pulled over Brook. I’ll fucking bury him in legal if he keeps pushing her.

Pushing me.

He should know better, given this isn’t the first time he’s fucked with me, and I’ve fucked him back.

With a deep inhale, I steady myself, still at my desk, as I read the message. By the time I get to the end of the email, an arrogant smirk graces my lips. The provost having concern over resources of the board in response to a bullshit meeting called by her father this morning is a reprieve I wasn’t expecting.

I hope that puts that prick in his place. I still have no idea what exactly he called a meeting for, but I don’t give a shit.I’ll be sent the notes from the secretary for it, and I suspect they’ll go directly to my lawyer and only help me in possible criminal charges against the motherfucker if he did mention the legal ties we’re tangled in right now. I need far more than him simply kicking his daughter out to solidify charges. However, harassment is looking more and more possible as he continues his neverending bullshit antics.

A part of me hopes he’ll leave it be. He’s lost. I’ve won. It’s fucking over. But the other part of mewantshim to push so I can fucking destroy him.

My oxfords smack on the polished marble floors of the university as students and other faculty walk by, and I try not to think of the bullshit.I offer a nod of acknowledgment and a semblance of a smile to those who greet me.

To say it’s irritating that her father is the fucking dean is an understatement.

Her father is adding fuel to a fire that is already raging. The PI has hit dead end after dead end, and my lawyer’s been hit with a slew of threats from her father’s legal team about his daughter’s very legal right to acquire her belongings. His threats are nothing but smoke and mirrors. He can’t do shit, and if he does, he’ll be wasting money.

His and mine.

My only concern is that he may have more spite than sense… and with Brooklyn getting more and more comfortable in my bed, I wonder if I also reacted too quickly.

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