“Not in the least.” I grab her ass and squeeze.
“Griff!” She laughs again and smacks my arm. “Sleep!”
I give up and stroke her hair. She’s right, after all. She needs rest. We’ve spent every moment tangled up in each other, passing the days in a sensuous haze. I don’t want it to end, but even my sweet Vivian needs rest sometimes.
“I love you, Vivian.” I kiss her hair as she lets out the cutest little snore.
Mama stands up and stretches, then hops over the enclosure and pads to the bedroom door. She sits and stares at me.
I don’t want to get out of bed. I’d much rather spend all my time with Vivian, but Mama stretches and claws down the side of the doorframe, then sends yet another look my way. With a sigh, I ease out from under Vivian, then make sure she’s tucked well beneath the covers.
“Yes, ma’am,” I whisper and open the door for Mama, who trots off like she’s on a mission. I have no idea where she’s headed. Maybe she heard a mouse or something.
I consider getting back into bed, then decide Vivian needs some actual sleep, not me pawing at her. Because even now, I want to jump her, to pin her beneath me and make her moan.
Before my resolve fails, I hurry to my closet, throw on some clothes, and leave the room quietly. Once in the hallway, I realize it’s midday, the sun high and bright through the windows. I don’t think I’ve bothered to open the drapes even once this weekend.
“Look what the cat dragged in. Literally.” Mrs. Putnam opens a can of fresh food for Mama as I take a seat at the kitchen island.
If it’s lunchtime, I should go back up and check on Vivian. Maybe she’s hungry. Maybe she wants more of me. Maybe I can eat her pussy while she eats a sandw–
“Are you even listening to me?” Mrs. Putnam tosses the empty can into the recycling.
“Of course. You were saying?” I clear my throat.
“I said you’ve been shut up with Vivian for days. Would you care to share any information with me?” She goes to the fridge and pulls out her famous chicken salad, then goes to the oven and cracks it to get a better look at the fresh croissants she’s baking.
“Those smell amazing.”
“I’m aware.” She closes the oven and whirls on me. “Have you decided what you intend to do?”
“About what?” I shrug.
She snags an energy drink from the fridge and hands it to me. “About Vivian, young man.” She rolls her eyes.
“I feel like I’ve been doing plenty already.” I smirk.
She smacks me on the back of the head. “You know what I mean.”
I try to imagine anyone else striking me. I can’t do it. Any of my men would lose their hand if they raised it against me. But Mrs. Putnam doesn’t ask permission, and we both know her hands are far too valuable for me to chop off.
“You may have wowed her in the sheets, but it seems you’ve forgotten your engagement for the evening.” She raises a brow at me.
“That’s tonight?” The dinner with Grant hadn’t crossed my mind, but now I rise and start to pace. “We’ll need to get Vivian some dresses to choose from and–”
“Done.” She crosses her arms over her chest, the black fabric of her dress getting wrinkly with disdain just like her face. “I’ve handled everything. I even ordered all the ingredients she’ll need to make the lava cake dessert she’s been talking about. If you hadn’t worn her out, she’d be down here right now.”
“Shit.” I scrub a hand down my face.
She finally relents, backing away and returning to the oven. “You have time. The cakes come together quick. But I’m going to need you to give her a moment to breathe. Don’t scare her off.”
I want to tell her it’s quite the opposite. That Vivian is just as ravenous for me. Fuck, the way she rides my cock, the way she licks my cum and swallows when I release in her sweet mouth. But none of that is for Mrs. Putnam’s ears. In fact, that’s for no one’s ears. Vivian is mine, and mine alone.
“Do some work.” She waves me away and disappears into the pantry. “Let her rest.”
I’d argue and inform her I’ve already made that decision all on my own, but with Mrs. Putnam, there’s no point. I don’t know how her late husband died, but he may have just keeled over from frustration at that woman.
My office is just how I left it, though I already know my email inbox is piled up, as are my messages. I sit with a sigh and begin to sift through them. Only one catches my interest. Linn has sent an email detailing all of Charles’s meetings with the Santivascis over the past week. He’s definitely in bed with them.