chapter twenty-two
Wren
Pulling up to Safe House, I lock my phone and slide out after Jay. The offices are on the top floors of the building, and we take a silent elevator ride with a few other men. Jay nods to each of them and they all greet him as Blue Jay. I look at each of them and wonder if they’ve been Jays before. Bradley and Dad told me I’d exhausted all of Safe House’s security personnel, so they likely had been Jays. I’m staring at them intently, trying to recognize their eyes and the shape of their brows, but I can’t place them. I’ve had so many Blue Jays over the years.
The elevator dings and we approach the reception desk. The young woman looks up at Jay and then me with an expression like she’s about to laugh.
“Oh, you’re here on official duty,” she chuckles. A light flirtation on her face gives away her total crush on Jay.
“Yeah, is Bradley in?” Jay asks her.
“He’s in meetings all morning. I can leave him a message?” She raises an eyebrow at Jay and bites her lower lip.
I cut in front of Jay and make direct eye contact with the receptionist. She is wearing an impressive set of lash extensions and I almost back down. She’s beautiful. “Can you tell Bradley that Wren Taylor is here for him?”
She smiles, knowing exactly who I am. “Sure, sweetie. He won’t get the message until he’s out of his current meeting, so make yourself comfortable.”
Jay takes me by the elbow and gently steers me to a quiet corner near a door away from the reception desk. We sit down and I grab one of the magazines on the table and cross my legs. I’m wearing a cute pink and tan tweed skirt today. I left little of my clothes at dad’s house and was at the mercy of my own procrastinated donation bag. Flipping through the magazine quickly, I look for one of Gemma’s campaigns.
“Wren,” Jay says on a breath.
“What?” I snip.
He chuckles quietly and rubs a hand over his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
I pretend not to notice him and hold out the magazine spread of a perfume campaign Gemma did. Her big eyes and signature pout shine under the fluorescent lights. “Aha, here she is!” I wave the magazine at Jay and then toss it back onto the glass table.
“I think marking your territory by pissing on my shoes would be more effective than being a bitch to every woman we meet,” Jay says just above a whisper.
“Would that work?” I ask and uncross my legs to lean toward him. “Would that tell you and every other woman you’re mine ?”
Jay swallows at my husky tone. His eyes jump to the security camera in the corner.
“Wren,” he warns.
I smile and lean back in my seat and pick up the magazine again. “Why am I not allowed in your office?”
“My identity is not anonymous in this building. I have things with my name on it in there,” he says as he adjusts himself in his seat.
“That girl knows your face?” I snap.
“She does.”
“And your name?”
“Yes.”
“Does she know anything else about you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Hm.”
“She certainly doesn’t know what I sound like when I come.”
I pause. A jolt of adrenaline sparked in my chest and my clit simultaneously. “Good.”
Jay scoffs and stands up. “Okay, we can go to my office, but nobody can see you in there. I want to get this paperwork over with so we don’t spend all day in this building.”
He looks around before opening the door to a bland and liminal hallway. He leads me down to a wooden office door. There’s no nameplate on the door and I’m mildly disappointed. Jay opens the door and pushes me in before shutting it behind us. The lights flicker on with a buzz and he rushes to his desk.
“Don’t look at anything,” he says gruffly.
I sit in one of the two chairs that face his desk. I know Safe House Security serves other clients, ones that may see their bodyguard’s face, but it still feels foreign to be in his space like this. He has a bookshelf that is mostly empty against one wall and a window overlooking the city on another. I stand and move to the window as he prints out a paper from the printer next to his desk. He rummages around in a drawer and I see him pulling out a pen and a stapler. He’s working quickly to get this done, but I also hope he gets distracted enough so I can snoop around.
A scribble of a pen fills the room, and I look over his wide shoulder. He’s writing about the incident from yesterday. “You guys hand write these?”
“Yeah. The less we digitize, the better. It’s all scanned in and kept very private by our tech geniuses, but the initial reports are all on paper.”
That’s when I see it. In a messy pile of paperwork, what looks like a paycheck stub is sticking out.
exander . “Alexander?”
He whirls around in his seat, his knees knocking into mine and jostling me. “What?”
“Is that your name?”
“Middle.”
“Cute.”
“Thanks, I’ll let my mom know.”
“They put your middle name on paychecks?”
Jay turns and looks down at his pile of papers on his desk. He shuffles them together and hides his name entirely. “Last name comma first name middle name.”
“Interesting.”
A knock sounds at the door and I gasp, whirling as the door handle turns. Jay grabs me and shoves me under his desk. My head knocks against the edge of the desk and I hiss in pain as I kneel on the floor. It’s the kind of desk where there’s a filing cabinet on one side and a solid wall of wood on the back and other side, leaving only the one opening for the desk user to put their legs. It’s a cramped, dark space.
The door opens and a man’s voice greets, “Hey man, how are you? I heard there was an incident at the Taylors last night?”
“Yeah, it got handled by the local police,” Jay says and shifts in his office chair.
I’m kneeling on the floor, facing him, with his knees on either side of my head. I had set out to find ways to degrade him, but yet here I am, on the dusty floor, wearing his kneecaps as earmuffs. And not in a fun way.
My shoe is pinching me, so I shift as quietly as possible. Jay looks down briefly in reprimand.
“You know you don’t have to wear the mask here, right?” the guy chuckles.
“Oh, right. I—uh, forgot,” Jay says and I hear a whisper of fabric as he takes off the mask. He rolls his chair closer to his desk so I can’t look up and see his face. This movement also brings me closer to his spread thighs and his bulge.
“The worst part of the mask was the mask acne. I hated that thing,” the guy says, and it sounds like he’s leaning against one chair in front of Jay’s desk. That guy is a previous Jay. I wonder what got him to quit?
“It’s easy to manage. Use an antibacterial soap and tea tree oil in a moisturizer,” Jay says conversationally.
Well, since I’m down here on the dirty floor, I might as well torture Jay. I creep my fingers up his leg and I feel all of his muscles tighten in reaction. The guy says something, but I’m not listening. I’m watching Jay’s cock twitch in his pants.
“Yeah, one of the Crows was over while I was out and totally fucked over my streak,” Jay says, his voice calm despite the clenching of his muscles.
“I was wondering who was playing. He wasn’t using the mic,” the guy laughs.
“It was a C-Crow,” Jay stutters as I use my index finger to lightly draw a circle around his bulge. He jumps in his seat and uses his huge knee to press my head into the side of the cabinet. He has my head pinned and that only prevents me from biting him. Which I wasn’t doing. Though, that would have been a good idea.
I grip his thigh.
“Well, do you think you’ll play tonight?”
“I’ll see what I can do. I h-have to meet with Bradley soon to d-discuss the incident and what we learned from it,” Jay says, his voice hitching. I have his junk in a firm grip under the desk. The warmth of his body and the hardening flesh under my palm have me wanting to clench my thighs together.
“Don’t stress, man,” the guy says, misunderstanding Jay’s stutter to mean he’s nervous. “What’s the worst he could do? Reassign you away from the demonic princess?”
I squeeze harder and Jay’s hand comes down to grip my wrist. His hand encircles my entire wrist, and he squeezes so hard I have to bite my lip to keep from whimpering. I let go of his package and he loosens his hold on me. He doesn’t let go of my wrist. He holds it against his thigh.
“She’s not so bad,” Jay says and leans back in his seat. If my head wasn’t pinned, I’d be able to see his face. He’s teasing me. I use my free hand to wriggle up his pant leg and pinch his calf. “She just needs to be put in her place.”
The guy snorts. “I’d like to see the balls on the guy who dares.”
“I got permission to talk to her once we moved to the house, and she responds well to a firm hand,” Jay says and kicks at me under the desk. I pinch him harder.
“Who would have thought?” the guy chuckles. “She still with that Maxwell guy?”
“I would prefer not to gossip about my client, if you don’t mind,” Jay says firmly.
“Yeah, sure. Sorry, man,” the guy says, clearly chastised.
“It’s alright. It’s just that she’s been through a lot recently and I feel bad for the girl,” Jay replies. He had me in the first half before he made me mad with the second half. I don’t want his pity. I want him on his knees.
“Fair enough. Hey, I’ll leave you to your paperwork. See you online tonight?”
“Sure,” Jay says. “Shut the door on your way out. I need to focus.”
The door shuts and I hear Jay putting the mask back on. I shove the wheeled chair back and he lets it roll, lifting his feet. I crawl out from under the desk.
“You know the movie The Ring where the girl crawls out of the TV? That’s what you look like right now,” Jay says as he straightens his mask.
I shove his chest and his eyes spark with amusement. I grind my teeth and look down my nose at him. “When we get home, I’m punishing you for that.”
“For what? Keeping us from getting caught in my office unsanctioned and getting me kicked off your case?”
“For making me get on the floor.”
“Where else would you—”
“ Punished. ”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Mistress.”
“Oh, fuck. Yes, Mistress.”
I smile and step back. “Finish your paperwork like a good boy.”
He immediately goes back to his work, scooting his chair to his desk.
“‘Needs to be put in her place’ my ass ,” I mutter under my breath as I try to dust myself off.
****
After meeting with Bradley and ensuring him I didn’t fault Jay for the attack and I was the one that pulled him into the safe room, we went back to Dad’s for a late lunch. Bradley was able to see us briefly between meetings and was more thankful I wasn’t demanding a new Blue Jay than he was irritated that Jay had attracted the intruders in the first place. I guess I deserve that after the hell I put his company through on a regular basis.
Dad’s house is quiet, as usual. But the Sparrows prepare a nice chicken salad for us. We eat quickly and then go to the Crow’s Nest for a quick security briefing. I let Jay do all the talking. I’m too busy staring at the cameras showing my house and mapping out the blind spots. Every entrance and window are visible, but most of the interior isn’t in view. I know they can turn the cameras. That’s how they could see what the intruders were up to last night and they could turn to see the oven fire when I tried making bread. But, generally, none of the cameras are pointed inward. Perfect.
Jay, touching my elbow, brought my attention back to the men in the room. “Sorry, what?”
“I was asking if you felt you needed increased security?” A Crow asks. “Hawk and your dad wanted me to ask.”
“No, no, I’m alright with Jay,” I dismiss. “It was handled well, and I feel confident in our ability to prevent it from getting that far again.”
“Thank you,” the Crow says with a bob of his head.
“Oh, were you working last night?” I ask.
“I was. I made the announcement to your speaker,” he says.
“It was too loud. Your voice was distorted, and I had a hard time understanding the emergency. No fault of yours. I think the speakers are turned up too much,” I say. “Thank you for repeating yourself more than once. It’s like you knew I was confused.”
A blush forms over his mask. “Well, I just figured that being woken up in the middle of the night would be confusing on its own. You’d need to hear the instructions more than once. I certainly would.”
“Yes, we’re all sleepy at nighttime. Are we settled?” Jay snaps.
“We’re settled,” the Crow says.
Jay steers me out of the security office and down the hall to the front door.
“Now who’s pissing on whose shoes?” I whisper to him.
“Shut up.”