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“Me sitting in the chair staring at you won’t make you nervous?”
“Yes, but not as nervous.”
He grinned and sauntered from the door to the chair. Our eyes met for a moment before I began checking my email to find messages from both of my sisters and all three of my stepmothers. My dad didn’t do technology. Memphis, the oldest of us three King girls, was threatening to put out an APB on me if I didn’t stop ignoring her. I guess me answering that one call wasn’t good enough. Umber, the baby girl, said she was going to pop up on me soon. My stepmothers all said my dad was worried about me. They thought I was mourning the end of my relationship with Marlon. I really wished that was it. I wished I was sitting around pining for him. Instead, I had a legit stalker living in my home. At least he was nice to look at.
Tremendously nice to look at.
Wait, did I really just think that? Had it been that long? Was I that horny?
Surely the-fuck not!
This man was a murderer, a psychopath or sociopath. Hell, he was some kind of path. I could not possibly be attracted to him!
“You should call them.” His voice damn near made me yelp.
“W-what? Who?” I stammered.
He pointed to my cell phone lying on my desk. “You just missed a call from your sister. Memphis.”
I grabbed my cell and saw her name on the screen, indicating the missed call. I’d silenced my phone that morning. It was no surprise he knew Memphis was my sister’s name. “I…I don’t want to involve them in…this.”
“This being me? I’m a this?”
“Yes.”
He laughed. “Okay…well, your family obviously cares about you, judging from the number of calls from them you’ve ignored in the three days I’ve been living with you. So, if you don’t start calling them back, they’re probably going to come see you, which will definitely put them in the middle of…this.”
“You don’t live with me. I’m your fucking hostage.”
He lowered the corners of his mouth. “Semantics, baby.”
I hated this motherfucker.
I really, really hated him.
Before I could tell him how much I hated him, the door connecting my office to the boutique swung open.
Justice.
She grabbed her chest, shouting, “Oh, shit! I didn’t realize you were in here. You scared me to death!” Her eyes found Ray and she dropped her hand, straightening her frilly blouse, one we sold in the shop. “Oh! Mr. Ray! I didn’t see you there!”
Ray nodded. “Miss Justice. Good to see you again.”
“I feel the same way,” she gushed.
Fighting not to roll my eyes, I cleared my throat.
“Oh! I was coming in here for the extra price tag gun. The Nina Rapport shipment came in earlier this morning, and I can’t find the gun I usually use,” Justice directed at me.
“Oh, yes! I just saw the confirmation email from the warehouse. I’ll have to come out there and look at everything,” I said, genuinely excited.
“Okay. Uh…”
“Oh, here!” I stood, retrieved the pricing gun from a shelf, and walked past Ray to hand it to Justice.
“Thanks!” she trilled, leaving. I shut the door and turned to see Ray’s eyes glued to my ass in my yellow satin joggers.
Without lifting his eyes, he murmured, “I just know you got some good pussy. Can’t wait to find out I’m right.”
