Page 15 of Belonging to Them

Fuck, I love this woman.

“That said,” I say, “if you’re stressed about where you’ll find your next meal, or if a trip to the hospital is going to make you homeless, that could have a negative effect on your art, too.”

“Exactly, yes,” she says, her shoulders going slack with relief.“You get it.”

“I do.And.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know if Bash and I need to spank some more sense into you or what, but we are one hundred percent in on this relationship with you.You aren’t going to be hungry.You aren’t going to be homeless.Everything we have, is yours.”And if I’m being honest with myself, I’m hurt that she still doesn’t seem to believe in this, or believe inus.But I don’t want to make this about me and my feelings.Ella’s concerns about money and her fear of “using” us must be rooted deeply in her psyche.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice breaking.“I know, I have some kind of a block about this.It’s just…money isn’t important to you, I get it.But to me, someone who’s never really had it, it’sveryimportant.”

I can see where she’s coming from, but she’s right in thinking that I probably won’t understand completely.I grew up privileged—upper middle-class, never worried about food or housing or anything else.My parents set up a good college fund for me before my mother even got pregnant, and I escaped university debt-free.Because of my connections, finding investors in Tyler Analytics was surprisingly easy.Some of that, yes, had to do with me having a kickass business plan and the smarts and willpower to execute it.But I recognize, in the end, a lot of it comes down to my background.

“You’re right,” I say.“Money isn’t that important to me.I like having it and it makes things easier, but I haven’t had to worry about it like you have.I’m not trying to minimize your concerns, but if there is anything I can do to help you feel better about quitting your cleaning job, please tell me what it is.”

“Okay,” she says quietly.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

She’s not giving me any ideas right now, but maybe this is all she needs at the moment.

“Is there anything else you need to talk over?”I ask her.

She shakes her head against my chest.“No, that was all.Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sitting up slightly, she holds my face in her hands and slowly, so slowly, brings her mouth to mine.She tastes like lemonade—I bet that’s what she drank while at lunch with Helena.She makes a soft, needy sound and squirms in my lap, her thighs brushing against my cock.

I’m starting to harden, my dick hopeful at Ella’s closeness.

Conscious that my office door is wide open, I break the kiss.“You are too tempting, little girl.”

“Not tempting enough, if you’re stopping,” she says with a pout.

“Really?”I say, amused.“You want to take this further?”

She shrugs one shoulder.“Maybe.”

“All right.”I ease her off my lap and stand up next to her.“Get under my desk, little girl.”

“I—what?”

“You heard me.”

Her expression incredulous, she walks over to my desk while I go to the office door, shut it, and flip the lock.

“Go on,” I say.“Under the desk.”

She gets under there, so I go to my chair and sit down, unzipping my pants.

“Take out my cock, sweetheart.I have a call to make.”

“You—no,” she says.“That’s nasty, Daddy.You can’t call someone while you make me touch you.”