Hidden Love by MINK

6

Kent

She opens the door to her apartment and I walk in, my arms full of fabric and cat treats. “You didn’t have to carry all of this for me, but thank you!”

Paisley wakes from his spot on the back of the couch, his green gaze verging on accusatory.

“I’m sorry, but there was a sale, okay?” She hurries over and pets him. “Well, truthfully, the sale isn’t till tomorrow, but that’s not important. What’s important is that I have enough supplies to fulfill all our orders. That means more cat treats for you in the long run, so stop being mad about me ditching you.”

He doesn’t seem inclined to stop being mad, but he switches his attention to me as I set the bags on her small kitchen counter.

With a flick of his tail, he jumps from the sofa to the counter and sits right in front of me, a faint purr in his throat.

“Rude.” She walks over and peers at him. “What are you doing?”

“Not a cat person.” I hold my hands up.

He blinks. It’s the same dance all over again.

This time I do away with the standoff and give in. Holding my hand out, I sigh as he rubs his little head against my fingertips.

“He likes you.” Layla steps back, her eyes open wide. “This is … wow. He never likes anyone. Whenever Gia comes over, he hides the entire time.”

I scratch under his chin just the way he likes.

“You have a way with him.” She leans over to watch him as he nuzzles against me.

“I have to hand it to you. Getting a cat, buying all these stuffed animal things--” I jerk my chin toward her shelves of dolls. “You really throw yourself into your work.”

“I don’t buy them.” She pats one of the fabric bags. “I make them.”

“That’s what I mean. I was sore at first after that dirty trick you pulled, but the more I see how seriously you take your craft, the more I respect it.”

She cocks her head to the side. “Dirty trick?”

“Right.” I smirk. “You’re nothing more than a ditzy shop employee with a compelling backstory and no ulterior motives.”

“Yes.” She nods. “Wait, you think I’m ditzy?” She puts her hands on her hips.

“The whole stuffing incident you told me about, cotton filling all over the store?”

Her cheeks turn pink. “Okay, maybe that was ditzy. It was just a mistake is all. And everything got straightened out.”

“So what’s your plan for Tucker?” I turn to her, facing her as she looks up at me.

“I guess I want to impress him? I mean, I don’t think he’ll put my creations in his stores or anything, but I do a pretty good business selling them online and at other, smaller specialty shops.”

“That’s how you’re going to get close to him? The stuffed animals?” Clever. She’s far more cunning than I could’ve anticipated. “A sales pitch. That’s perfect. He’ll never see you coming.”

“Of course he will. I’m going to make an appointment.”

“Sure.” I chuckle. She’s something.

“Well, um, thanks?” She glances at the bags, then back at me. “But I kind of need to get to work, so …”

“Are you kicking me out?”

“I don’t want to. You’re pretty much the most handsome man I’ve ever--” She stops herself and clears her throat. “What I meant to say was that I have a lot of custom stuffies to make, so you should probably go.”

“You’re seriously going to make some of these?” I hitch my thumb at the wall of cute, strange animals.

“I made all those. I’m going to ship most of them out once I get the rest of the others made. Those”—she points to the shelves—“are orders from my shop, premades. What we bought today is for custom commission pieces that are specific.”

“Professional.” I don’t know why, but her attention to detail is a turn-on. Look at what she can make with nothing more than her hands and some fabric. She missed her calling. Doing wet work is a total waste on a woman like this. She’s an artist, and a gorgeous one at that.

“But thank you for everything. I’ll be able to pay you back once I get the orders shipped, so--”

“No need to pay me back.”

“I should, though.”

“You should do whatever you want to do, kitten.” I move closer to her.

Her breath hitches.

“Is there anything in particular you want to do right now?”

“I-I … I, um …” Her voice is breathy, adorable. When her tongue darts out to wet her lips, something inside me winds tight. Like a spring waiting to be released.

I take her hand and bring it to my lips. Dropping light kisses on her fingertips, I watch her eyes close, her lips part.

“Why don’t you take a little break before getting to work?” I pull her to me and tilt her chin up.

“What are you--”

I don’t think, don’t hesitate, just kiss her.

She makes a surprised sound, but I hold her close, pressing her against me as I run my tongue along her lips. Her fingers curl in my shirt, clutching me tightly as her mouth opens just a little. I press my advantage, sweeping my tongue against hers.

She pulls a groan from me, my body tightening, my heart beating faster. I’ve never felt this sort of need, this heat of pure desire that stampedes through my veins. Did she dose me? Slip me something? Because I’ve thrown my usual caution out the window and lost myself in her.

When a low moan rises in her throat, I grip her waist and lift her onto the counter. Nudging between her thighs, I slant my mouth over hers, getting a perfect taste of all she has to offer. Paisley jumps down and struts away, but I can’t waste any time on him, not when I have my own kitten purring for me.

Running a hand through her hair, I grip the strands and pull. Breaking the kiss, I move to her throat and suck her sweet skin between my teeth. Her gasp sends goosebumps racing down my back, and I have the urge to strip her right here and fuck her raw on this counter.

Not just an urge—it’s the best idea I’ve had in a long time. With a shove, I lean over and swipe the bags from the counter.

She yelps.

“What?” I return to her neck, licking up to her ear.

“I have to make my--” She gasps when I cup one of her breasts. “Orders.” She swallows hard as I rub the stiff nipple through her shirt. “And I don’t know you.” She throws her head back when I pinch her tight tip. “Please, Kent.”

I grit my teeth and pull back to look her in the eyes. “Are you really going to make stuffed animals?” I brush her lips with mine. “Instead of letting me fuck you on this counter until you come with my name on those pretty lips?”

Her grip tightens on my shirt. “You are filthy.”

“I think you like it, kitten.” I run my teeth along her jawline.

“I … I do.” She shakes her head as if trying to wake from a dream. “But I have to do these orders. I have to.” She flattens her palms against my chest and pushes.

I groan and glance down at the situation in my pants. Her eyes drift southward, too, and grow wide when she sees the tent I’m pitching.

“Oh.” She licks her lips but shakes her head again. “Nope. Have to work. People are counting on me.”

“I need you, too, kitten.” I take her palm and press it to my cock.

Her eyelashes flutter and she gives me a slow, tentative stroke. “I want to.” She meets my eyes and pulls her hand away. “But I can’t. I mean, I don’t even know you. We just met, and I need to be smart, and there are all these goals I have, and I can’t reach them if I don’t make these--”

“Stuffies?” I rub my jaw and consider her, the thundering pulse at her throat, the hard nipples, and I can just bet her panties are soaked. Fuck, I want all of her right now. But she’s playing the long game. Really getting into character so she can take the kill right out from under me. If I’m not careful, I’ll fall into her honey trap and leave empty-handed.

I need to think with the right head. We have the same target--Tucker. I just need to find a way to get to him first.

“I’m going.” I hate saying those fucking words. But they’re necessary. I’ll be back. I’m beginning to suspect Layla has gotten under my skin, and I honestly don’t know why she hasn’t tried to knife me yet. But maybe she likes the competition.

“Going, right.” She hops down from the counter, but I don’t miss the hint of disappointment in her voice. “I have to work. Yep. You should go.”

“Give me your number.” I pull my phone out. “Please.”

She rattles off her number. I send her a text to check it’s not some burner. A buzz sounds from her bag.

“You got me.” She smiles.

“Not yet. But soon.” I fist her shirt and pull her to me again, giving her one more rough kiss that holds a promise of what’s to come.

She may be the slickest operative I’ve ever met, but I intend to teach her a thing or two about how I like to nail my targets. Hard, rough, and extremely thorough.