Page 27 of Claimed By My Ex's Dad
She has some nerve interrupting me. She shouldn’t be so confident. Ten minutes ago, she was rubbing herself thinking about me.
She definitely wasn’t doing it thinking about Igor.
I glance across the table to the butler and maid. “I’d like to speak to Joy alone.”
“Of course.” The butler bows his head and takes off, the maid following.
I stay quiet until their footsteps disappear down the hall.
Joy abandons the rest of her steak, sitting back in her chair. “Can’t it wait?”
“Some things must be taken care of right away. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Joy frowns.
I spread my legs out beneath me, reclining in the chair. I keep one hand on my wine glass. “Why is it you’re sitting all the way over there?”
Joy screws up her lips again, turning away. “I think you know why.”
“Don’t you like being close to me?”
“No.”
My chair scrapes on the floor as I stand up. I grab my wine and walk over to Joy’s side of the table.
I pull out the chair beside her, sitting down.
I stretch out my legs again, watching her squirm.
I take stock of her face. Her cheeks are turning red, her lips parted. I keep a close eye on her lips. They’re misted over with her cool breath as she inhales, exhales, trying to stretch each breath out for longer each time.
But her breathing is staggered.
She doesn’t want to admit her feelings to me.
“Sometimes I wonder—if we met before, would you have broken things off with Igor earlier?” I turn and face her, keeping our eyes connected.
She’s not looking away. “Why are you asking that?”
“Because I’ve known you for two days, and I’m already making a lasting impression.”
“Wow.” Joy sniffs a laugh. “You really love yourself.”
“Hm,” I grunt. “Maybe I do. But I’m not the only one.” I issue her a look.
She gasps, opening her puffy lips wider for me. I could slot my cock right in.
I’d love to see it dripping in her saliva.
“You seemed flustered when I chained you to my bed, sweetheart.”
“No shit,” she fires back. “Because it was totally uncalled for.” She tenses her jaw and looks away from me again.
She’ll learn to look at me when I’m speaking.
I grab hold of her chin, steering her back around until she’s meeting my eyes again.
My chair scrapes against the floor as I shuffle closer, bringing my face into hers. I smell the steak in her breath. And then my nostrils fill withherscent.
