Claim Me: A Novel

“Thanks,” I say, genuinely pleased. I haven’t met that many people since I moved to Los Angeles, and I’m psyched to have a potential friend in the building.

I promise Lisa I’ll give her a call this week, then head upstairs with Alex. I want to get back to work, but I also know I should get to know my team. I suggest that we eat in the break room, but I have to confess that I am relieved when he tells me that he’s going to eat at his desk so that he can play WoW.

I’ve finished the salad and am deep into an analysis of some troublesome code when Damien calls. “Hey,” I say. “Did you see that article in Tech World?”

“Talking shop, Ms. Fairchild?”

I laugh. “What else should I talk about? The scarf you sent me? Your skill at picking out gifts has become a little rusty, but I guess there is some logic. If I already own it, I probably already like it.”

“You make a good point,” he says. “I’ll keep that in mind for future gifts, too. At the moment, though, I was hoping to talk about the very interesting piece of correspondence I received this morning.”

For a moment, I have no idea what he could be talking about. Then I remember the drive in the Bentley. Oh my.

“Are you in an office or a cubicle?” he asks.

“An office,” I say. I swallow, recalling all the things I wrote in that letter.

“In that case, my dear Ms. Fairchild, I think you should close your door. For that matter, I think you should lock it.”

“Damien, I’m at work,” I protest, but I do as he says.

“What a coincidence. So am I. Imagine my surprise as I’m reviewing my morning mail. Requests to speak at business conferences. Investment opportunities. Real estate proposals. All intriguing opportunities, but none so enticing as what I find when I open a simple letter sent on my very own stationery.”

“Damien …”

“You have a way with words, Ms. Fairchild. I was quite relieved that my assistant was at her desk when I read your letter. I don’t know that I would have been able to hide my erection. You really are quite a little minx.”

My brows lift. “A minx?”

“I can still remember the sound of your voice,” he quotes, “so smooth I almost came just from the sound of it. And the cool leather against the hot skin of my ass. Even then, I wanted your hands on me, your cock inside me. I barely knew you, and yet I wanted to submit to you utterly.” He says, “Yes, I think minx is a very accurate description.”

“Oh.” Hearing my own words read back to me, I have to silently agree. “I was inspired.”

“I’m very glad to hear it. When I ran across the scarf in the apartment this morning it reminded me of you, and after I got your letter, I thought that I should return it right away. You see, we didn’t really let that scarf live up to its potential.”

“We didn’t?” My mouth is dry.

“No,” he says, softly. “But I intend to make up for that. There are a lot of things one can do with a scarf. A lot of things one can do with fringe. The delicate brush over your erect nipple. A teasing stroke over your hot cunt. I promise you that we’ll fully explore all of the various possibilities.”

“Um.” I swallow.

“Wear it today and think about what I’ll do with it tonight.”

“Tonight?” I ask, as I drape the scarf around my neck.

Damien laughs. “I’ll pick you up at seven,” he says. “I’ll have you naked by eight.”

I float through the rest of the afternoon, though I do manage to partition off my Damien thoughts so that I manage to accomplish some work. My head is down as I step off the elevator at the end of the day. I’m reading a text from Jamie detailing exactly how amazing Raine is, so I don’t notice Carl until he steps right in front of me.

“Nikki.”

I freeze, momentarily caught off guard. Then I regain my senses and start walking again. “We don’t have anything to say to each other.”

“Wait,” he calls. “Please.”

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