Make Me, Sir (Doms of Decadence 5)

Tiny watched as Reagan turned away, her hips swaying provocatively. Damn, her ass looked fine in those jeans. His hands itched to cup it, squeeze it, give it a good smack. God knew she could use a spanking. He was the security expert. It was his job to see to her safety.

And when it came to her safety she would do what he said.

As far as he was concerned that settled that.

Chapter Four

The woman was a menace. Stubborn as hell. Sneaky. Disobedient. Definitely a brat.

And somehow, she’d managed to get her own way.

He was the Dom. He was supposed to be in control. But she was his client, not his sub. Fuck.

Tiny glanced over at the bedside clock in his hotel room, two-thirty in the morning and he hadn’t slept a wink for worrying about her. He should have camped outside her door. Only she’d threatened to call the cops when he’d told her he planned to do just that.

In the end, he couldn’t stay if she refused to allow him.

After stalling as long as he could, and making it crystal clear she was to call him if anything happened, Tiny had left for his hotel.

At least he’d gotten three cameras set up and working inside the apartment. By the time he’d been done, Reagan had been nearly swaying from exhaustion, and he’d felt guilty for keeping her up when she was clearly exhausted. He’d tried to convince her to go to bed, but she’d just stared at him as though he’d suddenly grown a second head.

He couldn’t blame her. He was a stranger. She didn’t know he’d cut off his right arm before he’d hurt her. So he’d left, even though his gut was burning.

Finally, knowing he wouldn’t get any sleep, Tiny pulled on some gym clothes. If he couldn’t sleep, then he might as well work out. He started doing push-ups.

***

She felt like shit.

Her eyes were grainy and heavy. Her body weighed down by exhaustion. She’d barely slept. Every time she shut her eyes, she’d dream about someone sneaking into her apartment, and she’d wake up with a fright. In the end, she’d just laid in her bed, wide awake, watching time tick over.

Maybe she should have let Tiny stay.

No. She couldn’t have a stranger stay in her apartment. She wouldn’t have been able to sleep knowing he was in the next room.

But then, she hadn’t been able to sleep anyway.

She sent an email to work telling them she’d was taking today off, and one to Tara telling her the same thing. Luckily, her employer was very flexible. Plus, she was owed a lot of downtime.

Grabbing another cup of coffee, she moved into the living room. She stilled as she saw something on the floor by the door. What the hell?

Moving closer, she saw it was a white envelope. A chill formed in her gut. Why would an envelope be pushed under her door? The mail was always placed in the mail boxes in the foyer. There was no name or address on the envelope.

Striding into the kitchen, she grabbed a pair of tongs. Coming back into the living room, she crouched a few feet away from the letter and poked it with the tongs. She half-laughed at herself. What had she expected? For it to explode? That it might leap at her?

Picking it up with the tongs, she moved over to the coffee table and placed it down, staring at it. What if it had anthrax in it? As a precaution, she went back into the kitchen and opened the cupboard under the sink. She grabbed the face mask and rubber gloves she used when she cleaned the oven and put them on.

It wasn’t that easy to open the envelope with the gloves on, but eventually, she got it open and pulled out the piece of paper inside.

As she saw what was on the paper the chill in her stomach grew into a blizzard. She shivered. What the hell? Reagan pulled off the gloves and mask and reread the words.

Roses are red. Violets are blue.

Smile my pretty. I’m watching you.

The knock on her door made her screech. The urge to flee thundered through her. Her heart raced so hard she actually felt ill. She stared at the door warily, watching it as carefully as one might a rattlesnake.

Another knock shook the door. “Reagan? You in there?”