Chapter 4
Zia~
I was playing with fire, and I knew it.Nevertheless, I didn’t care.No matter what I said, Quaid Crawford wasn’t being robbed of his free will, so there was nothing stopping him from walking away at any time.
Plus, I didn’t necessarily want him to.
While I couldn’t know his exact age, he looked to be in his early forties, and not only was he well over six-feet-tall, but he also had one hell of a body underneath that white button-up and jeans.He also had these bright hazel eyes that stood out against his dark complexion, and they looked like they were constantly glowing somehow.In fact, he reminded me of De’Laney Ortiz, only a bit darker and older.
Quaid Crawford also looked like he could put it down, and I could admit that I was curious enough to try to find out.Back at his office, he’d been trying so hard to remain professional, letting my father deal with my immature outbursts, and it made me wonder what he looked like when he lost control.
Eyeing me, he finally asked, “Why?Why do you want the man to keep thinking about you afterwards?”
“Because I’m worth thinking about, Mr.Crawford,” I told him, refusing to let all of my childhood insecurities insist differently.“Because I matter.”
Tilting his head to the side, he said, “So, neglect is your poison.”
I almost flinched as he hit the nail on the head, but in all fairness, it hadn’t been all that difficult to figure out.Acting out and wanting to be the center of attention were classics signs of neglect, and while I hadn’t been neglected to the point of physical harm, I’d still been neglected enough to cause me some issues today.
“Which one is yours?”I asked rudely, presuming that everyone on the planet had some kind of issue or other.
At first, I wasn’t sure that he was going to answer, but then he said, “I have four siblings, and as the eldest, I practically raised them, giving me a slight aversion to...domesticationhood.It’s why I’ve never married or had kids.”
“So, you like your peace and quiet at the end of the day,” I surmised.“Could be worse.”
“Well, now you know why I don’t like complications in my life,” he remarked, but I was still calling bullshit on that.
“You don’t wantcommitments,”I corrected.“Again, if you didn’t like things complicated, then you would have chosen another profession.”
Stepping closer to me, he asked, “And how do you feel about commitments, complicated or not?”
Staring into Quaid’s bright hazel eyes, I wondered if this was how a black widow felt whenever a fly got too close to its web.“I can take them or leave them,” I answered truthfully.“After all, I’m only twenty-five, and until I’m ready to work on my issues responsibly and maturely, I’m fine with just letting the cards fall where they may.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re nothing but trouble?”he asked, but it didn’t sound like the insult that it should be.The rough tone in his voice made the words sound more seductive than they should be.
“A few times,” I quipped.
“Someone really ought to take you over their knee,” he continued, and I could only hope that he was volunteering for the job.
“Oh, really” I purred, my accent coming out whenever I got excited.“Do tell.”
Those prism-colored eyes of his flared a bit, and if I was able to get Quaid Crawford to bend me over and spank me in a voyeurism room, then I could definitely call this a successful night.Being as tall as he was, his hands were nice and large, and I could only hope that the stereotype about a man with big hands was true.
Instead of taking the bait, Quaid asked, “How often do you come here?”
