Make Me, Sir (Doms of Decadence 5)

She shook her head, and he gave her that look. The one that told her he expected to be obeyed. “Jack is coming over.”

“I can talk to him. Go.” He turned her around and gave her a light smack on her ass. She closed her eyes as desire grasped her. She glanced over her shoulder at him. But he had already turned back to the flowers with a frown. She wasn’t offended his focus had shifted.

After all, he was focused on protecting her.

Tiny waited until Reagan left the room to let his fury erupt. With a growl, he slammed his fist against the table. The sight of her tears had nearly done him in. But she’d needed his calmness and confidence, and so he’d pushed his anger aside. He would always try to give her what she needed. To put her first.

But fuck, he was dying to get his hands on this asshole. How dare anyone terrify his Reagan.

His.

Damned if he didn’t like the sound of that. He liked Reagan. She was different, but he thought her quirks were cute. It had taken some patience, but he’d gradually gotten her used to touch. She no longer stiffened up when he pulled her against him or took hold of her hand.

He knew she wanted him. But would she still want him after this was over? He shook his head. He had more important things to worry about. He moved to the bathroom and found the door shut.

“All good, Reagan?” he called out.

“Yes,” she told him. “I’m fine. Just doing as I’m told.”

That was a change.

There was a knock on the door, and he strode over, checking through the peephole first and spotting Detective Wyatt. He opened the door nodding to the detective.

“Hey. Reagan called me. Said she got some flowers from this creep.”

Tiny lead him over to the flowers. The detective studied the note and took some photos. “I’ll dust for fingerprints, but it’s unlikely we’ll find something. Especially if he used a florist.”

“Should be able to track him through a florist.”

“Yeah, maybe. If we can work out which florist he used. There’s no address or name on the note. He’s threatening you.”

Tiny nodded. Bring it on.

“Haven’t checked the cameras yet.”

He brought up the camera feed on his laptop, moving through the feed until he spotted a florist’s van pull up outside the apartment building. Jack watched over his shoulder.

“I’m guessing the building manager gave you permission to put these up?” Jack asked dryly.

Tiny just grunted. McDonald wasn’t back yet, but he didn’t care about the asshole building manager, and he wasn’t waiting around for his permission. Reagan’s safety was more important. A slim-built woman exited, carrying the flowers. She walked through the foyer and took the elevator. She rang the doorbell before placing the flowers down in front of the door and leaving.

“Right. I’ve got the name of the florist. Hopefully, the bastard used a credit card, or she can give us a description.”

“Let me know what you find out.” He didn’t feel very hopeful, though. This asshole had been smart up until now; why would he fuck up by leaving evidence behind?

***

“Tiny?”

Reagan stepped into the room living room. After her bath, she’d dressed in some comfy yoga pants and a baggy T-shirt.

Tiny put down his laptop and stared up at her. Then he gestured her forward. She slid onto the sofa next to him.

“Feel better?” he asked her.

She si

ghed. Not really.