Boss Games

him.” It was a risky thing to say in an interview, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care how that statement would make Mrs. Carol feel or her children. If Tatum hadn’t killed him first, she’d be the one in a graveyard. “I’m proud of her for the way she handled the situation. Not too many people would have had the courage to stare down their gunman the way she stared him down. And even when she was bleeding out of her chest, she didn’t stop fighting. She kept going until she won. She’s a role model to all of us—not just women. It’s difficult for me to see such a strong person confined to a bed, to know they’re fighting for their life in surgery as I sit in the waiting room. But her recovery has been remarkable, and it just shows that the darkness can’t last forever. The light will return—and it’ll shine brighter than it did before.” I was proud of Tatum for continuing to live her life with the same dignity as before. She didn’t flinch at loud noises, and she wasn’t afraid to go back to work. She refused to let the trauma affect her mental state of being, and she obviously didn’t feel any remorse for taking a man’s life—not that she should. I was proud of her in the way every father should be proud of his daughter. She refused to be the victim—and she did it with grace.

Scarlet watched me for a long time, letting my final response fill the air. She didn’t ask another question, and when she reached for the recorder on the table, I knew the interview was over. “Thank you, Mr. Hunt. I think our readers will be fascinated by this story—I know I am.” She placed the recorder in her clutch then cleared her throat. “I’ll have my crew contact your team to set up the photo shoot. And I’ll give you my article before I publish it, just to make sure you approve of it.”

No one had ever offered that to me before. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Hunt. I know you’re a very busy man.” She prepared to stand up.

We hadn’t gotten our lunch yet, and normally, that wouldn’t matter to me. The sooner I could leave, the better. Pointless conversations about work never ceased to bore me. But my body stayed in the chair because I didn’t want to leave. “Have somewhere to be?”

“No. But I’m sure you do.” She stood up, a strand of hair coming loose and falling in front of her face.

I nodded back to the chair. “Have lunch with me.”

“Are you sure?” She opened her clutch and prepared to put the cash on the table for the meal she never received.

If she sat down again, a conversation would ensue. I could go back to my office and get some work done so I could go home early, but I wanted to stay in that exact spot. It was the first time I wanted to have a conversation—even if it was pointless. Even with my ladies, I didn’t spend much time talking to them. Sometimes they talked and I listened, but it was usually with partially deaf ears.

But I wanted her to stay. “I’m sure.”

11

Diesel

Her wrists were so slender, so soft. I kissed the inside of each one before I raised them above her head. Her black panties were wet—soaked because of me. I wrapped the lace around her wrists before I secured them to the headboard.

Now she couldn’t go anywhere.

No one could take her away from me.

She lay on her back, her firm tits pointed right at me. The skin of her chest was flushed pink, and her eyes showed the same desire that was throbbing in my cock. She didn’t fight me because she wanted me to possess her. She wanted me to claim all of her, every single inch of her body.

I couldn’t be rough with her, not yet. She was still injured, still recovering. The gauze around her chest had been changed, and now it covered less skin. Her normally flawless body still had faint scars that hadn’t faded completely. She was still prohibited from intense exercise, but that didn’t mean she could just lay there—and let me have her.

I folded her legs underneath me and positioned my cock against her entrance. The head of my length could feel the moisture ooze from her delectable pussy. I slowly pushed inside then slid as far as her channel would allow me.

She inhaled a deep breath. Then she said my name, packed with uncontrollable passion. “Diesel…”

I sank deep inside her and held myself on top of her, careful not to distribute any weight on her body. Our sex had been restricted to missionary, but I still enjoyed it immensely. As long as I got to have her, I was happy.

Her ankles locked together around my waist, and she tugged on the lace panties that restrained her arms above her head.

“Don’t. Move.” My hands dug into the sheets on either side of her, and I slowly thrust inside her, feeling her cream sheathe me all the way to my balls. She was full of thick arousal, coating my dick with both her desire and love.

“Yes, Boss Man…”

I never wanted someone to take her away from me again.

I wanted to know she was there—wanted to feel she was there.

Every day for the rest of my life.

“Diesel. That’s how you address me.” I pressed my mouth to hers and sucked her sexy bottom lip. I’d wanted to be the boss man when she was just a woman I was sleeping with, but now she was so much more. She was the woman I’d committed my life to. I wanted her to call me by my name, a name very few people had the right to address me by.

She kissed me back, her lips trembling. “Diesel…”

I rocked into her a little harder, sometimes kissing her and sometimes breathing with her.