Page 18 of Daddies’ Dark Desires (Forbidden Fantasies #19)

HARPER

M y ass hurts, but god it’s so good. Good enough that I do, indeed, behave myself as I walk back to my desk and carefully lower myself into my desk chair.

My ass may throb, but my thighs are slick because that show of power was sexy. Hot. Better than I imagined.

I’m lost in the memory of Grant’s hand landing on my ass. The way his mouth slanted over mine.

How Grant lost control with me. Took control of me.

I want more of it.

He could have taken so much more, but him feeding me breadcrumbs like this is an easy way to make me obsessed.

I’m squirming in my seat when the other interns gather around Sunny’s and my desks. She shoots me a look, noting every little twitch and move and the change in my posture. She blinks meaningfully at me but doesn’t give any other outward hint that she knows something’s up.

The guys are debating about who’s going to go grab lunch. I usually eat in the small cafeteria, but when someone goes out I’m always on board for a treat.

Today, though, I need to get out of this chair, even though I think walking is going to hurt my sore ass, I think sitting is going to be worse. I’m ready to jump on it.

I can’t physically jump on it, but I raise my hand to gain their attention. “I’ll go.”

Trent’s head turns my way, eyes narrowing on me from across the room. I bet he’s got some kind of argument for me to stay in the office, but honestly I feel cooped up. I need the fresh air and a little freedom.

Daniel, the one who always smiles big at me, is always ready to help me, tries to make me laugh, and flirts on the regular, stands straighter. “I’ll go with you.”

“Weren’t you just complaining about— ow .” Kyle jerks like someone stomped on his foot.

I bite back my smile. “Sure. There’s a new Indian restaurant a couple of blocks down that has some really good curry.”

I lean forward to get to my feet. My muscles smart from the movement.

“Ooo, yes.” Sunny claps, but her hands freeze in a praying position as her eyes go wide.

A hand cups my elbow, helping me straighten, and I turn my face up to Trent’s scowl. But it’s not aimed at me.

“Why don’t you clear through those last three files while we’re gone,” he says to Kyle, who straightens, nods, and returns to his desk.

The other interns scatter, too.

Before I can make a smartass comment, my feet are already moving under me as Trent tugs me a long.

“Hey. What have I said about manhandling me?” I swat at his hand, but even that movement hurts. And we’re walking too fast. It has my butt muscles screaming.

I elbow him this time, but still he’s not letting me go.

Once we’re in the elevator, alone, he releases me.

Huffing, I step away and bump into the handrail, wincing.

Trent’s attention zeros in on it immediately. “What was that?”

“Nothing. Just a little sore.” I use my reflection in the elevator walls to brush my hair from my face and tuck it appropriately. I mean, it doesn’t need it, but it gives me the right excuse to keep my gaze away from Trent’s.

“You weren’t sore this morning.” His voice is dark. Cold. Like an investigator about to carve out a confession.

“Mmm. I wasn’t.” Part of me wants to lie to him, but I won’t. He’s been pretty clear on his hatred of liars.

“ Harper .”

My shoulders pull back, and I turn to him. His gaze is no-nonsense, so I unravel the truth slowly.

“Well, you see, I was being a bad girl. And I got punished.”

His nostrils flare.

“How?”

I plant my hands on my hips and tilt my head to elongate my neck, enjoying the way I can drag his gaze from mine with the subtle shifts of my body. Grant isn’t the only one I’ve been teasing and testing these last few days.

“Grant bent me over the edge of his desk…”

I swear Trent is smothering a growl.

“…and spanked me.”

“Hard enough to leave you sore? Bruised?”

I shrug one shoulder.

He steps into my space and his voice lowers dangerously. “You let him do that to you?”

The vibration of the words in his chest makes me want to melt against him. I smirk instead. “I liked it.”

His hands clench at his sides, and his gaze lights me on fire. I want him to burn me, but the timing is off.

I bolt the moment the elevator doors open, but Trent is close behind me.

It’s not like I’m walking super fast with a sore ass. Not in these heels. Nope. That’s a sure fire way of getting a cramp. Still, the rustling of my skirt chafes my skin and sparks an echo of Grant’s hand smacking down on my cheeks.

Heat builds, already at a simmer, and I take a deep breath of the fresh—almost fresh—city air. It centers me enough not to topple.

Because Trent is on my heels, his presence is like a firm touch along my back. That simmer is stronger. Part of me wants to merely stop and see if he runs into me. Oh god, I bet that would feel majestic.

I bite my lip, remembering how Grant loomed over me. How it felt to be smashed against his body. The size of his thigh between mine.

I swallow back a strangled noise. I’ve never let a big guy like the two of them take me to bed. Never found one as appealing as they are.

Oliver is more often my type. Lithe. Slumped under the weight of their intelligence. Their baggage. Or far too falsely pleased with themselves. None of them quite as intense as Oliver. Not so quiet. Not so dark.

Mmm. I shake off the thoughts and bask in the freedom and pleasure of being in the sun. Of moving. My head leans back a little to soak in the rays.

Glancing back at Trent when we stop at a corner, I make a face at him. A childish one that makes me seem all the brattier.

But he’s grumpy and serious, his gaze taking in everything. Sour puss.

I send an elbow back at him, but he simply grasps my arm to stop me. He doesn’t even glance my way.

“Hey, you know you can blink, right? I’m not going to bolt.” We’re just getting lunch after all. It’s like two blocks the opposite direction from the train anyway.

“I’m not watching you.”

I frown but don’t press. He’s being far too critical. Too zoned in.

I shake my head, pressing on when the light changes. Grabbing lunch is easy. Sunny called it in the moment Trent dragged me toward the elevator. She’s good like that. And there’s only seven of us.

I grab both bags in one arm and juggle the box of drinks in the other.

“Let me?—”

“No. I can do it.”

Trent only stares at me for a heartbeat before he waves his hand, indicating my lead.

Halfway to the corner, Trent’s hand grabs my arm, hauling me behind him. The drinks jostle, threatening to spill.

“Trent. God. Watch out.” I barely keep them from falling, the bags swinging heavy against my side, making my balance precarious.

“Drop the food.”

“What? No, we just paid for it.”

“Now.”

My body obeys before my brain catches up. I drop it, startled. Bags fall, and the drinks topple like pins; plastic lids scatter, splaying soda and sugar across the pavement and people’s shoes. Sauce splatters.

And that’s when I see it—the way Trent’s body blocks mine, the way his hand goes subtly toward the small of his back like he’s ready to draw something.

Does he have a gun on him?

Sudden panic grips me, and I grab the back of his shirt to maintain contact with reality. I didn’t even see anything wrong.

Soon, I’m inside a car.

What the hell is going on?

Trent is beside me in a blink, closing us in the dark, but my panic doesn’t subside as the car moves.

He grabs a hold of me and pulls me into his lap. I’ve never been a small girl, but being tucked against him like this makes me feel tiny—younger than I’ve truly felt in a long time. Warmth seeps in.

When did I get so cold?

I’m against a solid wall of heat, Trent’s hands drawing circles across my back.

“They won’t touch you. I’ll kill them first.” Deadly serious. The hand gripping the back of my knees tightens.

I hesitate. He can’t mean that.

My face lifts, mouth grazing the side of his throat as I say, “You always talk like that?”

I’m trembling, my nose pressing into his collar. He’s got on a spicy cologne. It’s heated by his skin. So enticing. My breath comes easier, panic subsiding.

“Only when I mean it.”

Anxiety shifts into other needs, and the way my hands are trapped between us is far, far too tempting. A little adjustment, and I could spread my palm across his chest or down his side.

Something deep inside me wants to maul him, to see if he’d hold me down and tame me.

The flash of that image has me pulling away enough to look at him, those dark eyes, the trimmed hair along his jaw and cheeks, the firm line of his mouth…

I lean forward and kiss him. Small. Desperate.

And Trent kisses me back, mouth softening, tearing right through my defenses. Until he retreats and runs his thumb across my mouth.

I’m breathing heavy, wanting to take his thumb into my mouth.

He doesn’t seem remotely phased.

“Don’t kiss me because you’re scared.” The gruffness of his voice tears into me.

“It’s not why I kissed you.” I lean in again for another kiss, and this time he doesn’t retreat.