Page 42
Story: Submission
I’m already there.
I don’t have to admit it to Vaughn or Christian because they can already see it. The fact that I want to kill every person who has ever hurt her tells them everything they need to know.
Finishing my coffee and feeling more reassured that I know more about Megan’s difficult past, I shower and change into a suit, then make my way downstairs.
“Are you ever going to tell me about the girl staying with Megan? What’s her story?” Christian asks.
For the first time in years, my hands feel clammy. I’ve been restless ever since I sent the new hire to stay with Megan. I wanted her close, though, because I just want to see her againwith my own eyes and maybe check out that scar again. I want to hear her voice and look into her eyes. A part of me is wary, but I have to know.
This is why when I knock on the door a few floors below me and a short, stocky woman with long braids opens it, I blink.
“Is Megan here?”
Chapter 14
I Knew You’d Be Wet
Hunter
The girl who answers is dressed in a pair of pink pajamas with slices of pepperoni pizza all over them, and while we haven’t met before, I know exactly who it is.
All the sleep vanishes from her eyes as she takes me in head to toe before saying slowly, “I know you. You are Mr. Middleton.”
“And you’re Megan’s roommate Naomi.”
“Look, man.” She immediately gives me a look of warning. “I don’t weigh that much, so I might not be able to physically fight you, but if you break Megan’s heart, I promise you I will write out your number in every public bathroom in Los Angeles. Ooh, and I’ll also write shitty Yelp reviews about all of your businesses. And–“
“Hush.” A hand quickly clasps over her mouth and Megan appears from behind her, scowling. “We talked about this, Naomi.”
Megan is wearing a thin, white, cropped tank top and a pair of loose black sweatpants as she pushes her Naomi behind her. “Go check on breakfast.”
“Whatever,” she huffs as she stomps away.
“Is everything okay?” Megan asks with a slight grin, probably because I can’t keep my eyes off her breasts.
The tank top does little to hide her pert nipples and the heavy shape of her breasts, so it takes me a second to conjure up my legendary self-control.
“I wanted to check up on your houseguest.”
“Lacy?” Megan looks over her shoulder, and I follow her gaze to see Lacy cooking something on the stove. “She’s settled in nicely. I gave her my room and she said she slept well.”
I notice a comforter and pillow on Megan’s sofa. She must have slept there. I hate that I’m inconveniencing her, but it can’t be helped. This is too important.
“I need one more day. Maybe two. I’m trying to find out something.”
It’s clear that Megan wants to say something, but then she just snaps her mouth shut. “Fine, I get it. Do you want to come in? You look like you kind of want to.”
When I meet her gaze, there’s a small hint of sadness in her eyes, but she’s smiling.
“I can read you pretty well now,” she says, backing up so I can fully enter the apartment. However, I’m distracted by a sad look in her eyes.
My hand comes up to rub her cheek with my thumb. “What’s with that look?”
“What look?”
“Like I’ve done something terrible to you.”
Her smile falters and I realize what she’s thinking when she looks over her shoulder toward Lacy.
I don’t have to admit it to Vaughn or Christian because they can already see it. The fact that I want to kill every person who has ever hurt her tells them everything they need to know.
Finishing my coffee and feeling more reassured that I know more about Megan’s difficult past, I shower and change into a suit, then make my way downstairs.
“Are you ever going to tell me about the girl staying with Megan? What’s her story?” Christian asks.
For the first time in years, my hands feel clammy. I’ve been restless ever since I sent the new hire to stay with Megan. I wanted her close, though, because I just want to see her againwith my own eyes and maybe check out that scar again. I want to hear her voice and look into her eyes. A part of me is wary, but I have to know.
This is why when I knock on the door a few floors below me and a short, stocky woman with long braids opens it, I blink.
“Is Megan here?”
Chapter 14
I Knew You’d Be Wet
Hunter
The girl who answers is dressed in a pair of pink pajamas with slices of pepperoni pizza all over them, and while we haven’t met before, I know exactly who it is.
All the sleep vanishes from her eyes as she takes me in head to toe before saying slowly, “I know you. You are Mr. Middleton.”
“And you’re Megan’s roommate Naomi.”
“Look, man.” She immediately gives me a look of warning. “I don’t weigh that much, so I might not be able to physically fight you, but if you break Megan’s heart, I promise you I will write out your number in every public bathroom in Los Angeles. Ooh, and I’ll also write shitty Yelp reviews about all of your businesses. And–“
“Hush.” A hand quickly clasps over her mouth and Megan appears from behind her, scowling. “We talked about this, Naomi.”
Megan is wearing a thin, white, cropped tank top and a pair of loose black sweatpants as she pushes her Naomi behind her. “Go check on breakfast.”
“Whatever,” she huffs as she stomps away.
“Is everything okay?” Megan asks with a slight grin, probably because I can’t keep my eyes off her breasts.
The tank top does little to hide her pert nipples and the heavy shape of her breasts, so it takes me a second to conjure up my legendary self-control.
“I wanted to check up on your houseguest.”
“Lacy?” Megan looks over her shoulder, and I follow her gaze to see Lacy cooking something on the stove. “She’s settled in nicely. I gave her my room and she said she slept well.”
I notice a comforter and pillow on Megan’s sofa. She must have slept there. I hate that I’m inconveniencing her, but it can’t be helped. This is too important.
“I need one more day. Maybe two. I’m trying to find out something.”
It’s clear that Megan wants to say something, but then she just snaps her mouth shut. “Fine, I get it. Do you want to come in? You look like you kind of want to.”
When I meet her gaze, there’s a small hint of sadness in her eyes, but she’s smiling.
“I can read you pretty well now,” she says, backing up so I can fully enter the apartment. However, I’m distracted by a sad look in her eyes.
My hand comes up to rub her cheek with my thumb. “What’s with that look?”
“What look?”
“Like I’ve done something terrible to you.”
Her smile falters and I realize what she’s thinking when she looks over her shoulder toward Lacy.
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