By: Alexa Riley

“Don’t even think about going in there.” Flynn’s voice washes over my skin, and I turn to see his back. He’s standing in the doorway to the dressing room, blocking someone from coming in.

“I have a delivery, man. Move out of the way,” I hear the man being blocked by Flynn say.

I hear someone growl, making everyone turn to look at what’s happening now. Even the seamstress finally pulls her eyes away from what she’s doing.

“Alright, man, then you just take the freaking box,” the guy says, and I hear him scurry down the hallway.

“Did he growl? I totally think I heard him growl,” one of the blondes says.

“That was hot,” another says. Flynn finally starts to turn around, and now I kind of feel like it’s my turn to growl at the women watching him. I turn back around, giving him my back, not wanting to look at him or anyone else as I try to button my stupid blouse.

“Can you give us the room?” I look back over my shoulder to see who he’s talking to, and it’s clear he wants to be alone with me.

The seamstress puts down the bra she’s working on and leaves the room. The two blondes follow suit, but not before one hands him a card. It takes everything in me to keep my face straight, to pretend I don’t want to snatch the stupid card out of his hand, but when both girls finally leave the room, he tosses the card in the little trash can by the door.

“Well, that was rude.” I nod towards the trash can.

“I’m not interested, and I’m already taken,” he says, taking a few steps towards me. I give him my back again, not wanting to look at him. I was happy he tossed the card out, but now I’m pissed he’s taken. I would not be okay with my man, if I had one, touching me like he had when we were out on that bed. And I really don’t want him to see the look on my face right now, so it’s just best to hide it.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Long?” I ask, wanting to get this over with so he can go. I still don’t even have pants on, and this blouse isn’t covering my ass very well.

“I wanted to ask you to go out with me.” I feel his breath on my neck.

I turn around quickly, expecting him to take a step back, but he doesn’t, and I refuse to take one myself. He’s in my space.

“You just said you were taken,” I snap, looking all the way up at him. Jesus, he’s a freaking giant.

“I’m taken if you’ll have me. Dinner?” he pushes, and I feel a little tension lift off my chest at his words.

“You’re single?” I want a clear confirmation.

“For now, I guess I am.” He runs a finger down my breast. I actually think he might be able to get a good handful of me with how big his hands are, and I feel my nipples tighten at the thought. His finger travels down until it meets the silk blouse. He pulls it closed and starts doing up the buttons on it.

“What will it be, Miss Carr?”

Chapter 8


I’m annoyed I have to call her by her last name. For some reason, it grates on my nerves. Maybe because I’d like the sound of “Mrs. Long” better. Thinking about it that way has my already-hard cock pounding for release. I need her to be mine in every way.

I see her intake of breath at my bold touch, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans into me, craving more. I knew she felt it during the shoot. I knew I wasn’t the only one lost to the pull between us.

She looks away for a split second, then looks back. “Yes.” The word is barely a whisper, but it’s what I want to hear.

Taking her by the wrist, I feel the zing again, and I feel powerful as it pulses between us. I go to lead her out of the room, and I feel her pull against me.

“Right now?” She looks around like she’s got to ask for permission.

“Yes. You’re the only reason I was here for the shoot today. I don’t need to stay for anything else.”

She gives me a shy smile and looks up at me through her lashes. “Let me grab my things.”

I don’t let her go as she walks over to the side. She slips on a skirt, tucks her blouse into it, and grabs her bag. “Is that it?” I ask as she slips on some heels.

She nods, and I go back to pulling her from the room. I’m anxious to get her out of here and alone. I’d sent a few text messages setting up dinner in case she said yes. Although I don’t think I would have given her any other option.

As we exit the building, we catch a few looks. I’m sure word will hit the gossip columns by tomorrow. They’re always trying to find out who I’m dating but never had any luck. I’m a workaholic, and I don’t do anything other than work, but I’m beyond the point of caring if word spreads like wildfire. She’s mine, and I have to get her out of here and all to myself. I was always greedy with toys as a child, and I’ve suddenly reverted back to it, not wanting to let anyone look at her. She’s my most prized possession, and I’ll be damned if anyone else lays a finger on her.

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