Switch (Natural) by Ioanna Arka

Author:Ioanna Arka [Arka, Ioanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-21T04:00:00+00:00

THEN

2 September, Aberdeen. The crop.

After John finishes the rest of my beer, he takes his leave of his family, and we head home. It’s not too late, and by the time we arrive at the estate, I’m not that tipsy anymore. I need to eat—he doesn’t seem to understand the necessity for regular meals, and I constantly have to remind him—so we spend some time in the kitchen, munching on ham and lettuce sandwiches.

Elon took today off to prepare for our trip back to Munich. He was replaced this morning by Andrew, who showed me around town and is now sitting across from us at the kitchen table. He spent the past couple of days with his son and grandson, so it’s no wonder that he’s going all grandpa on us, talking incessantly about the antics of the toddler. You can tell John isn’t particularly interested in the nearly endless succession of photos and videos of little Keith. I know how he feels. Although I keep emitting ‘oooh’ and ‘aaah’ sounds—I’d hate to disappoint the dear old bear—children are not necessarily what I want to be thinking of right now either.

John leans back in his seat as I continue feigning interest in all the grandfatherly stories. He’s had more than his usual amount of beer—my fault, partly, for tempting him with my unfinished second pint—but I’d be surprised if his intentions for the evening were revised. No, he’s just waiting, watching me below half-shut eyelids, certain that Andrew will get the drift soon.

And he does. The large man finally puts his phone away and excuses himself to go finish up the preparations for tomorrow’s trip. We should not forget to pack, he reminds us as he leaves the room, and I fancy I can hear the knowing smile in his voice.

I start clearing up the table, but John grabs my wrist. “Leave it,” the Bossman voice commands, and his eyes slide up my arm, stopping at my mouth. He pulls me to him and sits me down on his lap, covering my lips with his. There’s still a faint taste of alcohol in his breath.

When the kiss ends, he examines my face. “Are you tipsy?” he asks in a near-whisper.

“No, I had two sandwiches. I’m fine now.”

“Hmmm,” he purrs, and his eyes pin mine with that expression he has when he’s deciding something.

“Breath play?” I ask him. One side of his mouth turns upwards in that mischievous crooked smile. “Are you tipsy?”

“I’m fine,” he says and snaps his fingers. His other hand slides along my back, grabs a fistful of hair, and pulls my head back. He takes a hold of my jaw and turns my face away from him. “Master bedroom, ten minutes,” he whispers in my ear. “Naked.” So close, the hot breath moistens my skin, driving goosebumps down my neck. He bites my earlobe, making me let out a surprised yelp.

Without warning, he stands up, nearly throwing me to the floor, and leaves the kitchen. Trailing behind him, I get a glimpse of his lithe figure disappearing into the living room.

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