Transgressions by Carolyn Faulkner (the reading list txt) 📕

kill him. It didn't, but it made him do something he didn't think he'd ever done with her, and he always hated that men were always described as doing it—he rolled off her and was asleep within an instant or two, his big hand still splayed on her lower belly, leaving Ally hanging for her own pleasure, which she knew she wasn't allowed to do anything about, so she rolled over and went to sleep, feeling marginally better than she had in nearly a month, but somewhat depressed that it had taken a spanking to accomplish it.

She became a kept woman, which is what he liked to tease her about being, although he thoroughly enjoyed the concept that she was always at home waiting for him, warm and wet and willing. Hell, he'd even taken to coming home for lunch rather than eating out or skipping it entirely, and food was rarely on his mind when he did so.

Ally recovered more slowly than he would have liked, despite his attempts to fatten her up. He didn't like the idea of making rules about eating for her, but he did tell her she had to eat something at least three times a day. He already kept the place stocked with the things she liked, including fresh navel oranges and pink grapefruit, celery and baby carrots to snack on, as well as the occasional treat like cheesecake and ice cream.

He worried that she might be becoming a bit bored just hanging around the house—and he didn't allow her to leave without permission, for which she had yet to ask—so he began to take her to the office with him, just for decoration, at first, but she quickly became an extremely valuable asset.

People talked to her. He was big and intimidating, even when he wasn't trying to be. She was small and warm and welcoming, and everyone seemed to stop by where she was sitting before they got to him to talk to her, and unload their problems—which occasionally involved him—as if he couldn't hear them when he was only about ten feet away. Passively and actively, she gave him insights into people that helped him manage them better. Small things made his crew happier overall and big things that garnered pledges of undying loyalty from individuals who could be of great help to him in the future.

No wonder her father had given her control of her family. No wonder Frankie was jealous of her.

She didn't come in to his office every day, sometimes, particularly after a long night of loving her—or punishing her—or both—he would tuck her in just about the time he was getting out of bed and tell her to sleep—sometimes she did, sometimes she didn't. He didn't worry one way or the other. If she was exhausted that night, he'd put her to bed early, and that would take care of that.

This particular morning, she got up and had breakfast with him and kissed him goodbye before he left. He liked it when they ate together; it reminded him of her family, where everyone ate together morning and evening, every day.

Ally was just puttering around the house, and she got to thinking about something he had said when he'd first brought her here from the city, the night she and the girls had gone to see that male revue. She'd been too distracted by the awfulness of what was going on to pay attention at the time. He'd said that the house was always surrounded by his men when they were there.

Always surrounded. By his men.

Even when it was hot and the windows were open. He was a nut about fresh air and preferred it to air conditioning whenever the weather allowed. Their windows had been open quite frequently—before, during and after what she had come to think of in her mind as 'the crisis'.

She picked up her phone and texted him. "When I first got here a month ago, did you tell me that we were always surrounded by your men here?"

"Yes," he replied.

"And that's always been so? Since we first got together?"

"Yes."

She knew he had to be wondering what she was getting at, and she was just about to hit him with it. "While the windows were all wide open?"

Nothing.

"While I was groaning and moaning or screaming and crying because you were—"

The phone rang as she was texting.

"Good morning, sunshine," he began.

"Sell it somewhere else," she growled.

"Watch your tone, Allegra."

"I'm not happy," ground out from between clenched teeth.

"I got that idea. But I want you to remember a few things. They're my men, and they know they'll pay dearly if they say anything crude to anyone. And they like you—way more than me—so they're much less likely to, anyway."

She didn't bring up the fact that he was the reason they'd keep their mouths shut, not her.

"Plus, it's not like they're standing outside our windows. They're checking the perimeter. And they all have ear pieces, which means they're half deaf, anyway."

She was not assuaged in the least by all of his careful reasoning.

"Why do we still have them when the situation has been neutralized?"

She knew he didn't like that question at all because he didn't respond immediately, and she was amazed when he finally did answer. "Because it makes me feel a bit safer."

Now, that had her chuckling, regardless of how unhappy she was. "You? Afraid? Not likely."

Another long pause. "Not for me."

Ally stood up, her back straight. "Is there still that much of a danger?"

"Not from that quarter, anyway, but…" He didn't want to say that he liked the idea that she was well protected when he wasn't there to do it for her. Did he?

And she wasn't going to let it go, of course. "But?"

The thing was that she was probably right. There wasn't an imminent threat any more. There was no need for the extra guards. There was no need for any guards, for that matter, considering how much he'd paid for all