Page 69 of Tyson
"I called church to deal with your stalker problem." I checked the time on my phone, wincing at what I saw. "Duke’s scheduled a meeting's in thirty minutes."
"Thirty minutes is plenty of time," she argued, hand still moving in slow strokes that made thinking nearly impossible. "I can be quick. Just let me—"
"Duke'll have my balls if I'm late to my own meeting." I gripped her hips harder, physically lifting her away from my aching cock. The loss of contact was painful, but necessary. "Rain check?"
"No fair." She pulled back completely, sitting on her heels with her lower lip jutting out in a pout that made me want to bite it. Or kiss it. Or watch it wrap around—
"You call a meeting about protecting me, then leave me all worked up and alone?" Her fingers trailed down her own chest, a deliberate tease. "That seems counterproductive."
"Such a brat," I growled, surging up to steal a quick kiss. She melted into it immediately, trying to deepen it, but I pulled back before we could fall back into that spiral. "But this is important. Cruz needs to understand you're under our protection."
"Fine." She flopped dramatically beside me, the bounce making her breasts move in ways that tested my resolve. "Abandon me in my time of need. Guess I'll just have to take care of myself while you're gone."
"No." The command came out sharper than intended, dominance bleeding through. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating at my tone. "That's mine to handle."
"You can't just—" she started, but I was already moving, cupping her jaw to make her meet my eyes.
"I can and I will." My thumb brushed her lower lip, feeling her breath quicken. "You don't come without me. Clear?"
The power dynamic shifted palpably. Her bratty defiance melted into something softer, more submissive, though the spark of mischief never fully died in those hazel eyes.
"That's not fair," she whispered, but her body language screamed arousal—thighs pressing together, breath coming faster, color high on her cheeks.
"Didn't say it was fair. Asked if it was clear."
She held my gaze for a long moment, testing my resolve. Whatever she saw there made her swallow hard.
"Yes, Daddy," she finally agreed, the title making my cock jerk despite my best efforts at control.
Christ, she was going to be the death of me. But what a way to go.
"Good girl." I pressed one more kiss to her forehead, then forced myself out of bed. "Behave while I'm gone."
"Would I do something naughty? That doesn’t sound like me. . ." The innocent act didn't fool me for a second. She was already planning something—I could see it in the way her fingers traced patterns on the sheets, the calculating glint in her eyes.
"Lena," I warned, pulling on jeans with more force than necessary.
"I'll be perfectly angelic," she promised, stretching like a cat in a sunbeam. "Just lying here. Alone. Aching. Thinking about your hands on me . . ."
I should have known better than to leave her unsupervised when she was in this mood. Should have recognized the signs of impending chaos. But church waited for no man, not even one leaving a purple-haired temptation in his bed.
"We'll finish this when I get back," I promised, grabbing my cut from the chair.
"Looking forward to it," she purred, and the tone sent warning bells through my head.
But I was already late, Cruz needed handling, and surely she wouldn't actually disobey a direct order.
I'd learn soon enough how wrong I was.
I'dclaimedmyusualseat at Duke's right hand, manila folder thick with surveillance photos and property records spread before me. I’d stayed up late last night researching Cruz. His patterns, his business holdings, the web of connections that made him more than just an obsessed ex.
"Brothers," Duke called the meeting to order, gavel coming down with practiced authority. The conversation died immediately, respect for the office absolute. "Tyson called this church. Floor's yours."
I stood, tapping the first photo—Cruz's jewelry store in Sunview, all glass and pretension. "Vincent Cruz. Runs Sunview Luxury Jewelers, about forty minutes north. Been in business three years, mostly selling overpriced shit to tourists who don't know better."
"And he's stalking Lena," Thor added, voice dangerous. The table tensed at the mention of one of our protected.
"Showed up at her shop yesterday. Played mind games, made veiled threats." I kept my voice steady, professional, even as the memory made my hands itch for violence. "Made it clear he's not done with her."
