Page 86 of The Vixen

“My father isn’t likeyou,” she spits. “This isn’t a trafficking ring. We aren’t here for profit. This is…” Her nails claw the edge of the desk as she takes a deep breath. “This is my home.”

The tremble of her voice sobers me. When she looks away, I stay quiet.

She pushes off the desk and clears her throat. “Shut the computer down and go to bed. If I catch you in here alone again, there will be consequences.”

“Luna.”

She turns and takes a step, but halts when I grab her wrist.

“Wait. Just… Come here.”

There’s unflinching resistance when I tug, but after a few tries, she lets me guide her to stand between my legs, tailbone pressed against the desk. I roll the chair back to make more room and circle her waist. She shivers as my thumbs hook the delicate curve of bone at her pelvis.

“I’m sorry.” I peer into eyes that are somehow both hardened to rock and delicate as glass.

Lifting the check, I raise my brows. “Thank you.”

I tuck it away in the bottom drawer of the desk before once again circling her waist, slipping beneath her sweater—black, always black, but suddenly I wonder what she looks like in blue. And purple. And green. And literally anything else.

She shakes her head. “Don’t thank me… Just do your job.”

As my hands slide up her ribs, her stony expression softens. She shuffles as the tips of my fingers trace the laced lining of her bra, but she doesn’t break away. Doesn’t even try.

“Yes, Head Keeper,” I coo while wrestling with a smile.

“Sawyer.”

I force my lips flat at her serious eyes. Scared eyes. Her chest heaves with breaths too heavy for a touch so small.

“Don’t screw me over.”

My hands still. A knot tugs in my gut as I nod, and for a ridiculous moment, I wish that could ever be true. For a ridiculous moment, I forget it’s me wearing the shackles.

I owe her nothing.

But instead of pointing that out, I curve my index finger along unfamiliar lace. “Is this new?”

Luna turns her head, abs stiffening beneath my palm. If it wasn’t clear that she bought this for me, the blush that fans along her jaw would betray her.

I lift the sweater over her breasts and plant a soft kiss to one swell, then the other.

That word again… Beautiful.

“I like it.”

No response, but her arms lift as I guide the sweater over her head and toss it to the desk. I roll the chair back and situate myself onto my knees, my forehead resting on her stomach asI breathe in. Vanilla, sweat, and something a little musky—like she rolled in the forest before running here.

I don’t question it.

My palms collect each bow of her ass and lift so she rises on her toes. I trail my lips from her belly to the hollow between her hipbones.

She lets me undo the button on her pants before gently coaxing me away. “You don’t want to do that right now…”

I squint as I look up at the blush spreading to her temples. Hair drapes her face as she tilts her head to watch me.

“Why?”

No response. She just stares at me until I understand.