Page 16 of Silver Fox Grump

She’s never been kissed? My cock responds to that with the inevitability of a cartoon character running off a cliff then looking down.

She’s not kissing anyone when she’s under my protection, because it’s me, or no one.

So it’s no kisses for the girl with lips meant to be kissed and used for sin.

“Absolutely not,” I add when she doesn’t reply, licking her bottom lip with that soft pink tongue.

“Please,” she says, in a breathy little pant. “I’ve been feeling restless recently, and I can’t think of anyone I trust more, Mr Blackwood.”

“No.”

“Just one kiss?” she wheedles. “I really need a lesson. An experienced man to teach me how to kiss.”

I’m dizzy. This isn’t happening, and yet, it is. First, she played into all my fantasies by revealing herself to me on camera—unknowingly—and now she says she wants me to introduce her to kissing?

“Your father would kill me if he finds I’ve given you kissing lessons.”

“No one ever needs to know,” she says, as though it’s that simple.

“Your father trusts me.”

“That’s why you’re the perfect person to help!” she insists. “I trust you too, and you’re old enough to know what you’re doing.”

I should say no. Me giving kissing lessons to Maisie is like a tiger teaching a rabbit how to cook a steak. She’s too tempting.

This will end in disaster.

“Or should I ask someone else at work?” she suggests innocently. “Who do you think? Maybe the young guy in?—”

“No.” My fists clench. “No. That isn’t…”

That’s not acceptable because Maisie belongs to me.

“I have a duty of care to all my employees,” I say. “If someone is going to be killed for kissing you, it’s me.”

That’s a convenient excuse that conceals that I would murder anyone else who kissed Maisie myself.

“Great!” She gives me that distinctive sunny smile. I don’t return it because I think my heart might beat right out of my chest. “How do we start?”

Now?

Fuck, obviously now. But I need a bit more time to emotionally prepare myself for life-threatening acts like having my dream of the last two years come true.

“Over here, Maisie.” My voice is hoarse. I push my chair back and pray that my erection doesn’t cause too many issues as I rise and walk to the sofa on the side of my office closest to the window. It looks out over Morden, high enough to see but not be seen from any other building. Sinking onto the yielding leather, I beckon her with one finger.

“Yes, Mr Blackwood?—”

“Sev. My name is Severino.” I drag in a shaky breath. “If I’m going to kiss you, you should call me by that name.”

“Sev,” she repeats softly.

My brain helpfully conjures up the image of the sound of her saying my name as I sink into her soaking pussy.

She skips over towards me, though it’s not exactly a skip—she’s not five years old—but there’s a spring in her step like this is a delightful, cute activity like collecting wildflowers and singing innocent songs.

Not approaching her grumpy and obsessive stalker boss.

Her flicky little skirt teases around her legs as she rounds my desk and takes her place beside me, placing the stack of papers on the low table.