7. Damon

Ever since Matthiasinstalled the cameras in Misty’s apartment, I’ve been addicted to watching her. She floats around her apartment this morning, captivating me until I can’t look away. I cuss out Matthias for a good five minutes because of my inability to zoom in. It damn near kills me when she steps out of her washroom in just a small pink towel, her skin flushed from her shower.

My hand’s already fisting my cock, and I know I’d be late, but I’m too entranced to give a single fuck, letting all my carefully laid plans go to shit.

This girl has me forgetting who I am, and she’s not even here.

I watch her move around her room, the terry cloth barely covering her ass while she makes toast. With every step she takes, the fabric shifts, giving me brief flashes of her thighs beneath. By the time the bread pops, my hand is fully stroking my length as I imagine her perfect fingers in its place.

She bites into her toast, and jam spills over her lip, dribbling on her chin. I tighten my fist over my tip, the precum lubricating my thrusts, and groan when her tongue slides out to swipe off the excess jelly with a pure blissed-out look on her face. I stroke myself harder, picturing her on her knees looking at me that way, licking my release from her mouth. My dick jerks, coating my hand with my cum.

Fuck me. Just watching her got me off.

I clean myself up but don’t leave until I watch her exit her building and go all the way to where Nicholas waits with the car. She briefly looks like she won’t get in, but whatever Nicholas says has her climbing into the back seat.

I run my thumb over the screen. I’ll have to give Nicholas an even bigger bonus this year. A hundred grand should suffice, but I’d give him more if he keeps my future wife safe.

I’m not released from the trap she’s unknowingly entranced me in until my phone beeps with Nicholas’s message, letting me know he’s picked her up.

Already late, I press the gas pedal to the floor, my Audi R8 going forty over the limit. I switch lanes to get around a slow-moving car. I’m expected in my office for an investors meeting, one I can’t miss, but every mile pulls me further from her. I grip my steering wheel, keeping my eyes focused on the road ahead of me. I’m driving brutally fast, but I need it to keep my mind off the flashes of her pretty bare skin that have infiltrated my mind.

I crave finding her and living out my fantasies, but I know she’s not ready yet, which is why I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel and heading to the furthest building I have away from her.

My phone rings, and I hit the Receive Call button, slowing down minimally. “What?”

“Dropped Miss Hart off, sir.” Nicholas’s voice comes through the speaker.

“Were there any issues?”

He huffs. “If you want her to ride with me in the future, you’ll likely have to speak to her yourself, but I’ll be here whenever she’s ready to leave.”

“I’ll speak to her now.” Even the barest of reasoning has me caving. I yank the wheel to the right, crossing three lanes.

Nicholas clears his throat. He’s worked for me for years, but he knows not to push my limits. “I wouldn’t expect a warm welcome.”

I laugh. “I’m looking forward to it.”

I end the call, take the next off-ramp, and jump onto the highway, heading in the reverse direction. The pounding in my chest settles, knowing I’m finally closing the distance between me and who I want most. I’m lucky my Little Nymph doesn’t know the power she has, or I’d be fucked.

I make my way directly to her floor, and the cubicle partition groans under the force of my grip. Her bag and laptop are here, but that’s it. Frustration courses through me, but there’s an underlying sensation of something else. Disappointment?I pull out my phone and send off a quick text.

Me: Where is she?

Matthias: You know I don’t have a tracker on her.

Me: Good idea.

Matthias: Fuck man, that wasn’t a suggestion.

I ignore him, not giving a single fuck about what he thinks about all of this. There’s nothing healthy about how I feel right now, but I have no desire to fix it.

Me: She’s at the Bruins facility. Check security for what floor.

I grind my teeth, waiting several minutes for him to message me back.

Matthias: Gym floor. You’re not going to be happy.

My back tenses at his warning. I watch the elevator light change, indicating each floor, and I spot her the moment the doors open. Matthias is right, I’m not happy. She doesn’t notice me walk in, too focused on a player. I recognize him as one of the Bruins’ second-line D-men, and if he keeps crowding her like that, he’ll be looking for a different team to play for.

My feet eat the space between us. If he doesn’t back off, I’m going to claim her right here, then marvel at how sexy she is when she’s pissed.

A primal part of me is screaming to do just that. To press her against the counter and make her moan for me. Show her she wants me just as badly because I know she does. I can see it in the way her breath catches and her pupils dilate whenever I’m near her.

Pale green eyes finally meet mine and go wide. I enjoy the second of her surprise before her face hardens and she turns a false smile on Zach? Chad? Whatever the fuck his name is. All that matters right now is that he moves away from her.

A muscle in my cheek twitches when she glances at me, a smirk curving her lips. Fuck. My teeth grind together as she gives him her number. She’s going to pay for that.

It’s painful to turn away from her, but for what I have planned, I need to find her direct supervisor. If she wants to play games, I’ll show her I always win.

There are several workers gawking at me when I stride through Misty’s floor.“Who here is Miss Hart’s supervisor?”

A rail-thin woman in a straight-lined dress steps forward. Her face is pinched together when she asks. “What did she do?”

I raise a brow at her accusatory tone, and she takes a hesitant step back.

“From now on, Miss Hart will report directly to me as my personal PR representative. I want her removed from all current projects and focused solely on me.”

“She…she’s got quite the workload currently. Can I offer you a different employee?”

“Did I ask for your opinion? Miss. Hart. Now.”

I don’t pause for a response, instead heading directly to my office, pulling out a cigar, relaxing in my chair, and waiting for her to come to me.

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