Page 103 of Enforcer
Without thinking, I reach up and wrap my tattooed hand around her throat, gripping tightly and tugging her to me.
“Don’t do that. I’m taking you to breakfast, not the church to walk down the aisle,” I growl against her lips.
She moans, arching into my hand. “Yes, sir,” she whispers, trying her damnedest to lean forward to kiss me.
“Ah, ah, reward when you’ve listened. Get dressed.”
She crawls out of the bed a little wobbly once I release her. “What should I wear?” she asks.
Sneaky little minx wants to know where I’m taking her.
“Something appropriate enough to be seen in,” I reply smugly, raising my arm behind my head and relishing how her eyes flare, and her tongue licks across her lips.
She turns and saunters off toward the bathroom, and I check my phone messages and emails before doing the same, taking the bag of clothes I brought with me.
We move through the motions of showering and dressing, and I’m making coffee once Alyssa finally emerges, looking as if taking the morning off has revived her completely.
My mind is still stuck on how she reacted when I grabbed her throat and told her to drop the fear. No part of me takes issue with having to do so over and over until she knows she’s mine.
“What?” she asks, looking down at her dark blue sun dress. “Did I get makeup on my dress?”
I slide a mug of coffee toward her. “No, tesoro. You look perfect.”
She smiles, a slight tinge of red filling her cheeks.
Part of me hopes this continues, this version of her where she’s actively trying to step out of her comfort zone and let things between us progress. The other part of me knows we’ve already had regression so many times that I know to expect it.
We both stand on opposite sides of the bar that separates the kitchen from the dining room, drinking our coffee in comfortable silence and just existing.
I don’t know if she realizes how rare it is to have something as simple and comfortable as we do, but telling her will send her into a tailspin of emotions she’s not yet ready to deal with. So, I’ll let her remain unaware until it’s time for her to realize these kinds of things for herself.
“Ready?” I ask her when she sets her mug into the sink behind me.
She nods, placing her hands on either side of mine. “You?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She takes my mug and places it in the sink. It’s the simplest gesture, but it means something more to me.
I grab the keys to the Maserati, my little menace’s favorite, and grab the door for her.
Once we’re on the elevator, I press the button to lead us to the parking garage below the building and then step back towards the back wall where Alyssa stands stoically.
When I drop my hand, she slips hers into mine, and I nearly look down at where I can feel the connection, like the tingles of a limb that’s fallen asleep. I don’t, however. I keep my eyes front as I rub my thumb over the top of her hand absently, leading her out when the elevator opens.
She’s trying, and goddamnit, it means more than anything in the world.
I openthe door for her to exit onto Hudson St., helping her up onto the walk as I shut the door behind her.
She looks up at Maman before us. “Oh, how pretty,” she says, a smile lighting her voice.
“If you think the outside is great, wait until you see the inside,” I tell her, grabbing her hand in mine now that we’ve broken through that barrier.
It seems silly to see hand holding as a barrier when I know what her throat constricting around my cock piercings feels like, but here we are.
We walk in the open door to the cafe, and Alyssa gasps, eyes looking up at the ceiling and wandering down the veiny branches that wind down the walls.
The entire cafe is a forest getaway. Somewhere, you can imagine you’re no longer in the city but in a quiet, secret spot that no one knows about.