Losing Control (Kerr Chronicles #1)(57)
Author: Jen Frederick

I find a pitcher of water in Ian’s refrigerator and white porcelain coffee mugs on an open shelf above a fancy-looking espresso machine mounted into the wall. Filling two mugs, I carry them over to the living room and set one down on the metal side table next to Ian. He gives me a nod and my mom a brisk rub on the back before setting her upright.

“I’ve a friend who’s setting up a security business. He needs someone to answer phones and keep track of his guys in the field. It’s a dispatch-slash-receptionist position. I talked to him about your reading and writing issues, and he says that it’s fine. Most of your contact will be over the phone. What you can’t write, you can dictate—your voice messages will be transcribed by their computer software. He’s got some ins with the defense department, so his software is a lot better than anything you’re going to find on the market.” Ian pins me with a sharp gaze. “It’s a real job, Tiny. Not something I made up for you.”

Talking about my learning deficiencies makes me uncomfortable. Most of the time it’s no big deal because not that many people know about it and the ones that do never really bring it up. Only Malcolm, and that’s when he’s trying to piss me off.

“I don’t know—” I begin before my mom cuts me off.

“This is perfect.” My mom breathes in a sigh of relief, and I figure that I’ll have any additional discussion about a potential job with Ian in private.

“Great.” Ian gets to his feet and heads over to the kitchen as if the conversation is over and my new job is a done deal. “We’ll go over to Jake Tanner’s office in the morning. For now, I’m going to order some dinner.”

My mom jumps up. “Oh no, let me make something. How about shrimp scampi?”

“I don’t really have the ingredients for that,” Ian replies ruefully. He opens his refrigerator door and even from my place on the sofa I can see it’s mostly empty shelves and bottles of energy drinks.

Mom is already up, as if she’s going to hit the streets and find a grocery store and drag all the ingredients back. I shoot a worried look at Ian, but he’s already on it.

“Let me call Steve to take you over to Chelsea Market.” Ian’s got the phone in his hand before my mother can say another word. She makes a small face, and inwardly I smile because she’s getting a tiny taste of his highness’s my way is the only way attitude. And it’s clear that Ian doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. This is who he is.

After pressing money into my mom’s hands for the groceries, Ian wanders over to sit next to me. I notice that his hands are bruised.

“Boxing without your gloves?” I tease, running a finger lightly over the abrasions.

The side of his mouth quirks up. “Something like that.”

“I didn’t hear you working out down here.” I look over to his gym area, but I don’t see a bag. Only free weights, a few mats, and a wall of mirrors.

“I worked off my frustrations elsewhere.” It’s said glibly, but he won’t look me in the eye.

“Your frustrations?” I ask slowly, and then it occurs to me that his knuckles might not be raw because of a gym workout. “Please don’t tell me you went back to Brooklyn Heights.”

Ian’s evasiveness evaporates as he turns to me with a fierce look. “No one will ever raise a hand to you without suffering the consequences. You’re mine now. You gave yourself to me, and in order to honor that gift, I protect it.” He raises our joined hands and kisses our fingers. “Don’t ask me not to because that’s one promise I won’t give.”

I open my mouth to object, but he drags me onto his lap and crushes my protestations under his mouth.

Chapter 26

“I’VE GOT AN APPOINTMENT THIS morning, but I’ll have Steve swing by after lunch and we can go see Tanner then.”

Ian’s voice is muffled by the blankets I have over my head. My body aches and there’s a tiny man behind my temples bashing a hammer against my skull. After Steve took Mom home last night, Ian and I’d gotten into a little tiff because he was stubbornly resistant to having sex again.

“You had no problems earlier,” I’d pointed out.

“And I already feel like a heel. Roger’d have my dick in a vise if he knew that I didn’t allow you to rest.” Ian had shoved a hand through his hair, looking incredibly irritated. It was self-directed, but I still felt like I was somehow at fault. He’d stomped into the bathroom to get ready for bed. It didn’t make me feel better that I’d rolled over on my side and was asleep so quickly I didn’t even feel Ian climb back under the covers.

He shakes my shoulder lightly, but even that small movement generates a moan of pain. “Take two of these.” When he pulls back the covers, I open only one eye. At least I’m not seeing double, only one impeccably-dressed male in a pale blue grid cotton shirt underneath a light grey suit coat. His navy-striped tie is unknotted around his neck and his collar is flipped up, signaling that he’s all but done with his morning routine.

“Did you shave without me?” I ask, reaching up a hand to stroke his cheek. It’s smooth as butter. He rubs his face lightly against my hand and then reaches down to lift my neck up slowly. He slides two pills into my mouth. Holding me semi-upright with one hand, he presses a glass of what I presume is water against my lips. I take a big gulp and wash down the pills. As soon as he sees me swallow, my head is lowered to the pillows and the covers are pulled up to my chin.

“Yes, but I’m sure I didn’t do as good of a job lathering up.” He bends close enough for me to smell his aftershave. “You can do me tomorrow.”

I crack my eyes open to see him waggling his eyebrows at me with exaggerated lascivious intent. “I have plans for that shaving brush. I thought I’d see how your more sensitive parts respond to it,” I say and am pleased when I see his eyes darken and his jaw clench.

“No more of that, or I’ll be late and I’ll have to whip myself again for taking advantage of you.” He presses his lips to my temple and then, for good measure I guess, traces a path over my ear and down the side of my jaw.

“Please,” I moan, half in pain and half in arousal, “take advantage of me.”

“We’ll see how you are after lunch” is his implacable response. Deciding that a retreat is in order so I can enjoy being ravished later, I burrow under the covers.