Michael
Iwake slowly, the room still wrapped in darkness.
Katie is practically glued to my side. One knee is hooked over my leg, and her hands are curled up near her face like she fell asleep mid-thought.
Her curls are a complete disaster. They’re spilling across the pillow, across my shoulder, and apparently across my face too. A few of them brush my nose.
I breathe out a quiet laugh and gently push them away, careful not to wake her. She shifts just enough to burrow closer.
My eyes shift to the bedside table. The glow that woke me flashes again as my phone lights up in the darkness. I reach over and grab it.
Luca.
“Yeah.” My voice is rough with sleep and already irritated.
“Boss, we have a problem.”
“What?”
“It’s Donnelly.”
Fuck.
“He’s gone, Boss. House is empty. Neighbors say he left sometime after midnight.”
I glance down at Katie still curled against me.
“Keep looking,” I say quietly.
“Yes, Boss.”
I’m careful not to wake her as I ease out of bed. She stirs for a second, then settles again. I slip out of the room and move down the hallway toward the kitchen.
“What about his phone?” I ask.
“Turned off around two,” Luca says. “The last signal was at his house.”
In the kitchen, the whole house is dark and silent around me.
“Car’s still there too, I assume.”
“Yes, Boss.”
That means Donnelly didn’t panic and run. He was removed.
“Get Marco inside the house,” I say. “I want eyes on everything before the police stumble into it.”
“Understood,” Luca says.
“And Luca.”
“Yes, Boss.”
“Pull the bank records Marco started on yesterday. I want every transaction from the last month.”
“Yes, Boss. He’s pulling up now,” Luca says.
“Tell him to start outside. I want the street, the driveway, the house—everything documented before anyone moves a thing.”
“Yes, Boss.”
“And find out who Donnelly spoke to yesterday.”
“You think someone leaned on him?”
“I know someone did.”
“Hey.”
Katie’s voice comes from behind me. I glance over my shoulder. She’s standing in the dark hallway, one hand on her hip. Her hair is even wilder than it was a few minutes ago.
“Hey,” I say. “Go back to bed.”
She ignores that completely and walks over, sliding her arms around my waist and resting her head against my chest.
“What are you doing?” she murmurs.
I raise the phone so she can see it. She throws a hand over her mouth.
Sorry, she mouths, stepping back.
“It’s okay,” I say. “Just work stuff. I’ll be there in a minute.”
She nods and walks back down the hall. I wait until the bedroom door closes before putting the phone back to my ear.
“Boss?”
“Don’t,” I say flatly. “Call me when you have something useful.”
I hang up. Both hands brace against the counter as I take a breath. The boss stays in the kitchen. When I go back to her, I’m just Michael.
When I get back into bed, she catches my arm and pulls it around her waist. I don’t stop her. She’s gotten very comfortable in the last twenty-four hours.
The first night in that bar I decided she belonged to me. It didn’t take her long to return the favor.
I’m already watching her when she wakes up.
“God, what are you staring at, stalker?” she groans.
That little mouth of hers is going to get her in trouble one of these days. I might have to give it something better to do.
“It’s nice watching that beautiful face of yours when it’s not throwing insults at me,” I say with a smile.
“Fuck you, dude,” she says, shoving me.
I tilt her face toward me.
“Doll,” I murmur into her ear.
Her breath catches instantly. There it is.
I let my breath drift down the curve of her neck before my mouth follows it. My lips ghost along her skin, and the sound that slips out of her is soft and helpless, pulled straight from the back of her throat.
My hand slips under her shirt, palm flattening against her side as my fingers trail upward. She leans into the touch.
“That’s a good girl.”
She shoves me hard enough to rock me backward.
“I hate you.”
She scrambles off the bed and fires a pillow at my face. I catch it against my chest and drop back against the headboard, laughing.
I stand up, and her eyes go straight to my crotch. My cock is standing at full attention.
I raise an eyebrow. “You like what you see?”
She smacks my chest as she storms past me toward the door. “You really are an ass.”
I take three steps and move in front of her.
“What’s wrong?”
Her cheeks are flushed, and even as she lifts her chin, her eyes drop again.
“You’re being unfair,” she says, pouting.
I pull her against me, and I’m immediately aware of her breasts against my chest. My cock twitches in response.
“I told you,” she says quietly. “I can’t have sex with you.”
“Not yet.” I waggle my eyebrows.
She exhales in frustration.
“You’re making it very difficult to say no.”
I breathe out. She’s flushed and trying to look annoyed, but her eyes keep dipping down before she can stop them to right where my cock is pressing against her stomach.
She steps back. “Okay. We need to get out of this house.”
“To where?” I tilt my head at her.
“Take me to breakfast. I’m hungry.”
I laugh. “You’re awfully demanding.”
“And apparently you like it,” she says, brushing past me to her dresser.
I run a hand down my face. My life is built on discipline and control. This woman is going to dismantle every bit of it before she’s done with me.