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“So you do like him then?”
“I don’t know how I feel about him. He’s…it’s complicated.”
“In what way is it complicated?”
“Wow, you’re full of questions. Are you bored, Q?”
“You want me to give you permission for some guy to come sniffing around what’s mine. He may be a mind-fuck artist for all you know. Give me satisfactory answers and I’ll consider it.”
My frown deepens as my confusion escalates. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
“What?”
“The mind fuck part.”
“Your friend and I have that in common?” he asks.
Shocked laughter erupts from me. “I see you’re not denying it.”
“You’ve proven yourself adequate to the challenge of being mind-fucked.”
“Seeing and calling your bullshit doesn’t mean I enjoy the aggravation, Q.”
“Then why are you smiling?”
I wipe the smile off my face and glare around the room. “Where is the camera?”
“Cameras, plural. Headboard and floor lamp.”
“I’m going to rip them out. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You won’t get pissed off with me?”
“They were meant to be temporary. I’ve put in place a more robust protection detail.”
I surge upright. “What sort of protection detail?” The last thing I need are more people digging into my business.
“None that will compromise your privacy. Or put you on any radar you wish to avoid.”
I’m a little reassured, but all the same. “Q—”
“You won’t come to any physical harm, Lucky. Not while you’re with me.”
Something about that statement bothers me. Badly. Enough to make my heart lurch and my stomach hollow out. Before I can think of an adequate response, he speaks.
“You have my permission to see your friend.”
Umm…right. I’m a little put out that he’s not jealous. I expected more resistance from him, what with the, my body, my pussy, edict he’s so fond of throwing down.
“Okay. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. But, Lucky?”
“Hmm?”
“Make sure you get enough rest. You come to me at midnight. And Viagra Night is happening.”