Dirty Dom(15)

I can’t fucking wait to get inside her tight pussy again. I haven’t got anything planned for tomorrow. Well, now I do.





Becca





I cringe as I take off my heels the second I get inside the house and drop my purse on the front hall table. Fuck, today was a long day. I hiss in air through my teeth as my feet finally have some relief. I drop the heels at the front door and start walking to the sofa, but I stop and sigh. Damn it, I can’t fucking leave them there. I hate not being organized. I lean down and pick them up so I can put them back in the closet. Back on their spot on the shelf. It’ll make me feel better. If I leave one little mess then it’ll just grow. I can’t be lazy, it’s not like anyone else is going to clean up after me. Besides, it’s easier to maintain a cleaned home than it is to let it go to shit and then have to clean it all up.

As I slide my Jimmy Choos back on the shelf I hear the door bell ring. I look down at my watch with my brows furrowed. It’s only five. I have an hour before Jax will be home. I need this time to prep dinner, which today means order out, and go through my emails and payroll. I really do need to hire someone. I pick up my pace to open the door as it rings again. I can’t keep up this pace. I can’t keep doing everything, especially with how shitty I’ve been feeling. I swing open the door with a sigh and without bothering to look through the peep hole.

My lips part and my heart stills when I see the man on the other side. He fucking haunted my dreams last night in the best possible way. If I wasn’t terrified at the moment, my pussy would be clenching in need. He’s in dark suit pants and a crisp light blue button down shirt with a dark blue tie. His exposed neck makes me want to lick it and feel the rough stubble on my tongue. As if he knows what I’m thinking he gives me a cocky smirk, which only makes him look even hotter.

I swallow thickly and try to speak. Why is he here? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I gave him everything. Maybe he wants more? Maybe my debt isn’t completely paid. My eyes widen. I shouldn’t be so turned on by that thought. I should be scared shitless and part of me is. But another part of me wants him to fuck me against this wall and have him leave me with the warning that he’ll be back to collect again tomorrow. I must be fucking sick in the head.

“May I come in Rebecca?” His smooth baritone voice drips with sex appeal. My core heats instantly. I can’t speak, I don’t trust my voice so I just nod and open the door wider. As his tall, broad frame passes me I seem to snap out of my lust filled haze. What the fuck did I just do? I should’ve said no!

I start shaking my head as though this isn’t real. He turns around in my living room to face me. I paid a designer to make this room look like it belonged on a page of Good Housekeeping. All cream, plush cushions and dark antique finishings. He doesn’t belong here. He stands out amongst all the clean white lines. He may be in a trim fitting 3-piece suit, but he doesn’t fool me. He’s bad. His hair is messy and rugged. His hands are calloused and scarred. His smirk is cocky and sexy-as-fuck. It’s like he was placed in this room by accident.

Looking around the room, to avoid his piercing gaze, I spot a family picture on the wall and I’m reminded of how tainted it is by my husband – ex husband – deceased husband. Fuck. Tears well in my eyes. I can’t fucking handle this. I rub my temples. I just want to get whatever this is over with. I shut the door and follow him into the entry of the living room. I should offer him tea or a drink. My parents raised me right. But fuck that. He’s a criminal. I run my hands through my hair as anxiety consumes me.

“Can I help you?” I’m barely able to get the words out.

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest. He grins showing off his perfect white teeth. “I think you can, Rebecca.” His smile falters a bit before he asks, “are you going by Bartley now or Harrison?”

I need to shut this shit down. I don’t need someone barging through my life and walking all over me. I’ll give him whatever he wants to just get the fuck out. I should’ve known he’d be back for the interest. For actual money.

A blush travels from my chest to my cheeks. I shouldn’t have been so stupid to think that he’d be satisfied humiliating me like he did. My heart clenches. Was it really humiliating? I shake the thought away. I’m sure he intended it to be. Why else would he be here smirking at me like he owns me. Fucking asshole. I clench my fists and push out the words, “how much is it that I owe you?” I have a few grand in the safe in the bedroom. I fucking hope it’s enough. I thought all this was behind me. I told Sarah to never speak of it again and I fucking moved on. It was only awkward for the first few minutes. Thank fuck for Sarah; I need to give her a raise.