BAKER (Devil's Disciples Book 1)(19)

“That’s weird,” I said. “3-A is empty.”

“Well, something’s going on up there.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t from one of the other spaces?”

He looked at me as if I were foolish. “Quite. I went to Michael’s – he stays in 3B – and he said he heard it, too. He went with me to see if someone was in there.”

“But there wasn’t anyone there?”

“No.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“It started on Tuesday.” He counted on his fingers as he continued. “So, Tuesday, Wednesday, and then again last night.”

I removed a business card from my desk and wrote my cell phone number on the back. “I’ll go up there and look around.” I handed him the card. “If you hear it again tonight, you can call me on my cell. Don’t worry, I’ll get it resolved.”

He stood and slipped the card into his pocket.

“Is there anything else?” I asked

Before he could answer, the door flew open.

Dressed in a white tee shirt, jeans, and black leather boots, Baker stood in the opening. He raked his fingers through his hair, looked at Stephen, and then at me. “Bad time?”

“I was leaving,” Stephen stammered.

Baker sauntered toward the chair. Upon reaching it, he looked over his shoulder at Stephen. The air in the room thickened with tension. Then, without saying another word, Stephen left.

That was weird.

“Do you know him?”

He gave a halfhearted shrug. “I’ve seen him around, why?”

“I don’t know. He seemed kind of…” I glanced at the door and then at him. “Nervous.”

“Look at me.” He let out a light laugh as he sat down. “I’m sure he felt intimidated.”

It was a valid point. “I’m sure you’re right.”

He looked me over as if he’d never met me before, making no attempt to hide his thoughts as he did so. Eventually, his eyes became fixed on my cleavage. As he peered into my blouse, his mouth curled into a grin.

I crossed my arms and peered down my nose at him. “Did you make a decision about that apartment?”

“I haven’t.” He rested his tattooed forearms against the edge of my desk. “Maybe we should look at it again.”

I’d never played hard to get in my life, but for some reason, felt doing so was a good idea. I relaxed against the back of my chair. “Maybe I’ve got a few other people scheduled to go look at it.”

He lowered his chin. “Like who?”

“Like whoever I want,” I said in a snide tone. “Just some guys that came in over the last few days. I hadn’t heard from you, so I scheduled them to look at it. In fact, I’ve got back-to-back appointments up there all day with six different interested parties.”

I was failing miserably. Instead of coming off as hard to get, I looked like an overeager hooker who was going to be shuffling my clients in and out of my upstairs brothel. While I struggled to devise my plan of redemption, he stood.

“Stand up,” he said in a commanding tone.

I gave him the deer in the headlights look. “Excuse me?”

“Stand.” He cleared his throat. “Up.”

I did as he asked.

He sauntered in my direction, and then wedged himself between me and the edge of my desk. Standing so close I could taste the sweetness of his breath, he locked eyes with me. I wanted to look away. Despite my desire, I couldn’t break his gaze.

As I peered into his eyes, the familiar smell of his cologne caused my mind to chase thoughts of him fucking me senseless in the upstairs loft.

The memory of his face being buried between my legs while I was sprawled out on the kitchen island overwhelmed me. I stared back at him nervously as a tingling sensation engulfed me.

In what seemed to be a slow-motion gesture, he extended his middle finger, lifted it to his face, and then laid it against his flattened tongue.

My mind went aflutter. I wanted to say something, but I managed to say nothing. He reached for the waist of my pants with his free hand. While I stood on shaking legs and waited for the inevitable, he pulled his finger from his mouth and lowered his hand between us.

As much as I wanted to look down, I didn’t. I couldn’t. I cinched up my big girl pants, stood firmly in place, and held his gaze.

With his eyes locked on mine, he unzipped my pants. As much as I expected my mouth to blurt out some form of sarcastic opposition, it never came. He slid his hand beneath my panties. I could hear my heartbeat, and wondered if he could, too. If he could sense how anxious I’d become. If he had any idea of how aroused…

He pushed his finger deep inside me. I sucked in a choppy breath. Although I didn’t want to be, I was weak in his presence. I chewed against my bottom lip and embraced the fact that I was being finger fucked in my office by a man I barely knew.

He lowered his forehead until it met mine. “Show the motherfucker to whoever you want, little girl.”

A stuttering breath escaped me. “O…Okay.”

“But. If anyone touches this pussy? You’ll need to add a wheelchair ramp to that loft.” He curled the tip of his finger against my g-spot and raised his eyebrows. “Because I’ll break both his legs.”