Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
That gets my attention. I don’t know if Rex would punish me again, but I can guess that he wouldn’t like being pulled out of his meeting over something like this. There is a chance he would spank me, and if that happened I’d fucking lose my shit.
Instead of dealing with any of that theoretical fuckery, I wrap the sheet around me.
“I am going to have a shower,” I say.
“Good.”
I go and shower, and in the process almost forget that I am annoyed right now. The shower is amazing, high pressure from all angles in a tiled enclosure that has one of those fancy one-way windows that looks out into the forest.
It feels good to be clean, though I have nothing clean to put on. I end up padding out into the bedroom, hoping the uptight guy in a suit is gone.
He is not.
He has laid out several heinous outfits on the bed, each one more grievous than the last. They are fifty shades of beige, with some white thrown in.
“What is this? Clothing for a couch saleswoman?”
The man gives me a scandalized look.
“I’m going to need your name,” I say, though of course I already know it because we’ve been introduced and he already repeated it once, but I can tell it annoys him to be asked. “So I can tell Rex why I suddenly look like the back of a woman’s clothing catalog from 1993.”
“Fescue,” he says. “I believe I already gave you my name. I also told you to call me sir.”
“Oh. Right, sorry. Do you have anything that doesn’t look like I’m about to try to open a checking account in 1984?”
“I do not appreciate your attitude,” he says, turning away from me so I don’t see the slight curl of the side of his mouth. I got him. Ha.
“I don’t appreciate your attempt to convert me from a twenty-something woman to a dowager countess in a period drama.”
“Alright,” he says. “That is enough, Miss Love.”
“These clothes are enough. Enough to…”
He sweeps them all up in his arms and marches out of the room.
* * *
Rex
We take a break from the meeting and head out for a bit. I decide to go and check on my mate, who was fast asleep when I got out of bed this morning. My day begins at five. I am sure hers does not start until much later.
Fescue is leaving our room with an armful of clothing. He looks more perturbed than usual.
“How is she doing, Fescue?”
“She is entirely impossible, sir,” he says. “She is opinionated, rude, and outright disobedient… I believe you have met your match.”
I smirk to myself as I go into the bedroom.
She is there, in a towel. She turns to me with a sassy look on her face. “Oh, it’s you,” she says.
“Are you disappointed?” I smile. “Hoping for another round with Fescue?”
“No,” she says, though her expression says yes.
“I wanted to see how you were,” I say, reaching for her and drawing her into my arms. “Last night was intense.”
“Yes. It was,” she mumbles into my chest. I run my hand down her back in a soothing caress and tap her ass gently. I feel her wince. She’s tender. A small smile passes over my lips. I am glad about that. She needed to be punished. She seems settled today.
“You were good for me,” I murmur in her ear, rubbing her ass gently over the towel.
“I had no choice,” she mumbles back. “You made me be good.”
“I did, didn’t I.” I smile down at her. “And you are going to be good for me today. Keep out of trouble while I have meetings, go and get the orientation tour with your friends, and I will join you after work.”
I don’t get to hear her response to my request for her to be good, because Fescue is already back.
“I have something you might find more acceptable to wear,” he says. “I trust it is colorful enough.”
He has brought in a pink jumpsuit that last saw the outside of the pack closet sometime in the ‘80s. Her eyes widen, and then she grins broadly.
“That is so cool!”
“Yes. I thought you might like it,” Fescue says. “I have a pair of crisp white trainers to go along with it.”
“I love it,” she says. “It’s so cute.”
Fescue turns away so he can hide the roll of his eyes from her. I catch his eye and nod to him, a silent appreciation for finding something she will like wearing.
“It’s got teal stripes,” she grins. “Oh, my god, it’s so cute. We could never make things like this now. I’m going to get changed.”
She rushes off with the suit under her arm, heading for the bathroom.
“You said you were in meetings all day, sir?”
“Yes,” I confirm.
“She’s going to have the house torn apart by then.”