Written in Ink (Montgomery Ink #4)(12)

She shut her mouth, her eyes widening. She so did not need to think of him with his dates. Now, she could only imagine him naked above his date—who happened to be her, of course—sliding in and out of her oh so slowly, his gaze on hers, never breaking contact. He’d flex his ass as he slowly tilted his hips up, f*cking her with such a sweet seduction that she’d come achingly long over his cock before he filled her, groaning her name as he fell off the high cliff along with her.

Her cheeks burned, and Griffin tilted his head, studying her. “I don’t bring my dates here. But I’d pay a whole hell of a lot to find out what just went through your mind just then, Fall.”

That brought her out of her embarrassment. “Fall? Really? Are you like twelve? I thought you were a writer. Can’t you come up with something a bit more clever?”

“I could, but I like the look on your face when I say it. It’s a mix of annoyance and laughter that I can’t quite place. So you’re stuck with that if you’re not going to just go away.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Fine. But I don’t know what cleaning my house will do. I’m still not bringing dates here because this is my place. The one you’re currently invading. And while I’m here, I need to work, yet I don’t think you cleaning will help with that.”

“It couldn’t hurt.” The word invading irked her, but she ignored it. He’d just have to get over himself.

“You’d think. But I fired the other cleaning services because they messed with my writing time.”

“Put on headphones, then. Because I’m cleaning. And cooking because you can’t survive on coffee, takeout, and the occasional meal at a family member’s for long. You’re in your thirties. You need to take care of yourself.”

From the look of his body, good genes and working out helped, but the damn man needed vitamins, as well.

Enough thinking about his body.

“So you’re going to cook, clean, and I take it shop?” Griffin sucked in a breath. “And all of that should free me up so I can write?”

She wanted to scream at his attitude but stopped herself when she saw the look in his eye. The man was scared. Or at least something close to it. She knew he was behind on his deadline because the family had told her, but why was he behind? Could he not write at all? Because if that were the case, it would be a shame. She loved his worlds, the way he wrote, and everything about his books. And if she could help him at least a little bit, it would be worth the attitude.

“I don’t see how it couldn’t help. Plus I’m going to revamp your site.” She frowned. “Wrong word. From what I can see, your site has a decent template. I can just update it and make it so your readers know what’s coming next. Things like that. And I’m going to get your social media working because readers need to know who you are.”

Griffin narrowed his eyes. “They don’t. They just need my books. That’s it.”

She waved her hand at him. “You’re a thriller writer, honey, you only think that. I’ll help you and make sure I don’t make it too personal, but have them think it’s just personal enough.” That last part was what she excelled at in real life. It couldn’t be any harder to put it out on the Internet where there was a computer to shield her.

“I don’t want them knowing everything about my life.”

“And they won’t. But they need to know you exist. At least a little. Also, I’m going to help you with a book bible or whatever else you need.”

“Don’t touch my books.”

She held up her hands. “I will not ever touch your books while you’re writing them. Nor will I harm your words. I just want to make things easier for you. It’s why your family hired me. When I get the lay of the land, I’ll know better what you need, but you need to know you’re not alone in this. I’m going to help.”

“And if I still don’t want your help?”

“Suck it up, buttercup. I’m here to stay.” At least until I move away again.

“Buttercup? Really, Fall?”

She flipped him off. Oh, perfect way to suck up to the boss. “Now, go to your office or whatever you need to do to get started for the day. I’m going to work on laundry. Or dusting. Or at least something so I can breathe in your house without feeling the need to shower.”

His gaze raked her body, and her nipples pebbled into hard points, pressing into her bra and for damn well sure showing through her shirt.

“If you need to shower, Fall, go right ahead.”

She snorted and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Not until I clean it. I don’t know where you’ve been.” And with that, she pulled out a notepad and a pen, ready to take notes so she knew exactly what she needed to do and what supplies she’d need. Because this man’s house was going to be a full-time responsibility, and the man himself was going to be even more.

She might be making a mistake, but at least she’d be good at it while she was making it. And if she kept telling herself that, she could try to ignore the way just the man’s presence made her want to spread her legs and beckon him over.

Because that wasn’t going to happen.

Ever.





Chapter Four


Griffin was in hell. A hot hell where the voices in his head didn’t talk to him anymore and his cock was so hard he was afraid he’d rip through his jeans and embarrass himself.