Page 10 of Possessive Ink

“Are you doing okay? Do you need anything from the grocery store or for your new place? Have you eaten? I’m not sure what time you got here.”

It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I check on Marcus like this. He always seems thrown by the fact that I want to make sure he’s okay.

“Oh, I’m fine. But…err…thank you.”

“What time did you have breakfast?”

“I ate before I got here.”

“Which was?” I ask, lowering my voice until it’s a little gruff.

“A little after five. I connected the motion sensor alerts to my cell so I know when he’s working.”

Scowling, I sigh unhappily. “Go home after lunch⁠—”

“No,” he interrupts. “I’m fine, I⁠—”

Narrowing my eyes, I sigh. “At one thirty p.m. you’re done for the day, Marcus. You know how Felix gets when he’s starting a new collection. He barely sleeps and gets completely consumed by his ideas. I don’t want you trying to keep up with him. That’s not healthy, and honestly, we don’t pay you enough for that. So go home, get some rest, and I don’t want to see you before eight thirty a.m. from now on. He needs you, Marcus, and I don’t want to see you burn yourself out.”

“But—” he starts.

“Marcus,” I growl, lacing my voice with a dominance that Marcus responds to.

“Okay,” he easily concedes.

“Good. Now I’ll grab coffee and pastries from Tori’s store before I come back. Text me with anything you or he needs.”

“Thank you, Atticus.”

“No need to thank me, Marcus. Do you have the keys to the van so you can take it to the art supply store?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Okay, wait until I get back to go, then you can eat first.”

“Oh, that’s…” He trails off at my raised eyebrow, his cheeks pinking. “Okay.”

Nodding, I head for my car, sliding behind the wheel of my Range Rover and hitting the start button. My car probably doesn’t match my aesthetic, but I love it, so honestly, I don’t give a fuck.

Turning around in our huge courtyard driveway, I click the button that opens the electric gate we had installed and wait while it slides to the side. Once it’s open, I drive through and onto the street. Rockhead Point doesn’t have much industrial space, so I’ve barely gone two blocks before the small warehouses and factories change to colorful shop fronts with tourists and locals milling around.

Parking my Rover in the parking lot of the grocery store, I climb out and grab a cart, pushing it into the air-conditioned store. I rarely stood out in New York, but in small-town Montana, my tattoos draw a lot more interested looks, and I flash smiles at some of the women who are openly ogling me.

Walking slowly up and down the aisles, I fill my cart with the staples Felix needs for his meals of choice, as well as the ingredients I want for my more varied diet. I’m just rounding the end of one aisle when someone crashes into my cart, their basket full of protein shakes and hunks of steak tumbling to the floor and scattering dramatically in every direction.

“No,” a female voice whines, dropping to her knees with a thud as she scrambles to pick up all the things that have fallen from her basket.

“Let me help,” I say, taking the basket from her hands and placing it on the floor while I collect the bottles and wrapped steaks.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman gushes apologetically, her blonde hair hanging over her face and hiding her from view.

The sight of her on her knees in front of me makes my dick perk up, and I pause, unsure why the fuck I’m turned on. After I grab the last protein shake and place it back into her basket, the woman slides her forearm under the mop of blonde hair and flips it back, revealing her face for the first time.

Fuck. Her hair is a halo of bouncy blonde curls, her lips are pale pink, bee-stung, and sexy as fuck. Her eyes are looking up at me from her position at my feet, and my dick isn’t just awake, it’s rock hard and pointed right at her.

“I can’t believe I did that,” she says, awkwardly rising to her feet and making me want to force her back into her submissive posture. “I’m so sorry.”

“Have you hurt yourself?” I growl, reaching for her hand and carefully turning it over to inspect her warm, peach-colored skin.