Chapter Six

Darien

I sat outside the house in Hampstead for longer than I should, checking and rechecking that I had everything in order to ensure my visit would be a quick one. Home visits weren’t that unusual, but this one had my heart rate elevated and my palms slightly sweaty. I still hadn’t got a handle on Felix and the way he turned his flirtation on and off so easily. Did that mean it was an act? Something designed to throw me off balance? If so, it was working.

Another couple of minutes ticked by before I sighed at how pathetic I was being. Get in. Be friendly but firm. Ask my questions. Get out. There was nothing complicated about that. Besides, his mother was probably there. What better chaperone could there be? I chastised myself for being paranoid as I climbed out of the car, locked it, and made my way to the front door, knocking before I could think better of it. Once this was done, I didn’t need to speak to him for a couple of weeks unless there were problems .

The door swung open immediately, Felix’s raw masculinity filling the space. He wore a simple outfit, but his blue jeans and white T-shirt hugged his frame perfectly, making it look anything but simple. His feet were bare, and he was clean-shaven, a whiff of spicy cologne coming my way when he shifted slightly. If I’d been in a bar, I would have looked twice. More than twice, if I was honest.

“Hi,” I said, the word coming out a lot more throaty than I’d intended it to. I cleared my throat. “Sorry, I’m a bit late.”

Felix’s smile was slow as he completed his own scrutiny, my charcoal gray suit suddenly feeling like it didn’t fit properly. “Hi. Maybe next time, don’t sit in your car for so long and you’ll be on time.”

Why hadn’t it occurred to me that Felix might look out of the window? He’d been in my car, so he knew exactly what it looked like. I needed to engage my brain and think. With that in mind, I stood straighter. “I had a few calls to make. You know… busy, busy.”

“’Busy, busy,’” Felix echoed in a way that said he knew it was bullshit.

He stepped aside, and I took the silent invitation to enter the house. “Are we in the kitchen?”

Felix shook his head and led me down the hallway to a living room. “No, I thought we may as well be comfortable. Make the most of getting you out of your office.”

I laughed. “Right.” I would have preferred the kitchen. The kitchen would have put a heavy oak table between us as a barrier. For fuck’s sake, what was I thinking? I didn’t need a barrier. What did I think he was going to do? Despite giving myself a talking-to, I chose an armchair rather than the sofa to keep a bit of distance between us. “Is your mother here?”

The slight tightening of Felix’s lips said something about the question bothered him. “No. She’s just as busy as you are.” He stood and regarded me silently as I set about extracting all the things I needed from my briefcase. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“A glass of water would be nice.” I didn’t need it, but it would give me a few moments alone while he went to get it. By the time he returned with two glasses containing ice cubes and a slice of lemon, I had everything ready. He took the seat on the sofa closest to me and sipped from his glass while I fired questions at him, none of his answers anything but polite.

Felix’s case was more straightforward than most. There were no gangs that I needed to ensure he stayed away from. The only person he’d engaged in previous criminal activity with was his ex-boyfriend, who was serving a life sentence and wouldn’t be getting parole. He lived with his mother, so had zero contact with anyone who might prove a bad influence. Apparently, his mother had set up a bank account for him, so money wasn’t a problem and finding a job could wait.

Most of the clients I dealt with had a lot less going for them than Felix. Most would have chewed their right arm off to have a rich mother and a cushy house to stay in. Being Felix Church’s PO would be quite the breeze if things continued in the same vein.

“Are you finding anything difficult?” I asked.

His pretty gray eyes narrowed. “What do you think?”

I took a sip of my water. “I’m asking you.” I waved a hand around the living room, verbalizing my earlier thoughts. “You have a nice setup here. You’re lucky.”

“Lucky!” The way he almost spat the word out was my first warning. There was no avoiding Storm Felix as it came for me. He went from sitting on the sofa to looming over me, arms braced on either side to trap me in the chair in a matter of seconds. “Lucky, am I? I went to a prison for a crime I didn’t commit. For seven years. Is that lucky? My abusive boyfriend framed me. Is that lucky? My mother will barely talk to me because she thinks I chose that boyfriend over her and she has this fairytale idea that the courts are never wrong? Is that lucky? I have no prospects because of the aforementioned. Is that lucky? And I have a probation officer who asks stupid fucking questions. Is that lucky? So… if you need something to write on your form. Then the answer is everything . Everything is fucking difficult. Can you spell that? Do you need help with it?”

Anger flushed his cheeks as I stared up at him. My throat was dry, the half full glass of water only an arm’s length away resembling an oasis in the desert. I couldn’t reach for it because one of Felix’s arms was in the way. “I’m sorry,” I said, the apology not seeming nearly enough considering Felix’s fury. “I shouldn’t have been so flippant.”

Felix lowered his gaze, his face far too close for comfort. At least, he’d gotten himself mostly back under control, some of the flush easing from his cheeks and his stance relaxing slightly. “You’re sorry?”

“I am.”

“How sorry are you?”

I frowned, the question making no sense. “What do you mean?”

“We had a fight—”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight.”

“People should kiss and make up after a fight.”

Alarm bells rang, allowing Felix to trap me this way a rookie error. “You should sit down.”

“Should I? Why?”

“Because… I could report this as threatening behavior. Do you realize that your parole could be revoked and you could end up back in prison?”

“I do realize that.” Felix’s voice was soft and free of the strain I might have expected to hear in it .

“So… back off and we’ll say no more about it.” I’d been in tricky situations with clients before. All I needed to do was stay calm and bring logic into the equation. And there’d definitely be no more home visits. The office was safer. A shout in the office would have someone come running. Here, there was no one.

Why had I let myself end up in this situation instead of listening to my gut? Wrongly assuming his mother would be here? Or just a stubbornness to admit that I couldn’t handle him? Whatever false bravado had brought me to this point, it had left me trapped beneath him, with goosebumps on my skin that had absolutely nothing to do with being afraid of him.

“Kind of you,” Felix said. He lifted one arm, but instead of backing off, he plucked at the lapel of my jacket. “I like this suit. It looks good on you.” His fingers drifted to my tie. “This is overkill, though. This is a parole meeting, not a wedding.” Sure fingers without a hint of a tremor to them unknotted it before dragging it off.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking your tie off. Making you more comfortable. I don’t see you stopping me.”

Right. I wasn’t. I might not be able to get up without shoving him out of the way, but I still had the use of my arms. I should grab his hands. It was too late, though, the strip of pale blue material already being held aloft by Felix like it was a prize before he dropped it and it spiraled to the carpet. So he’d removed my tie. Big deal. Not exactly the crime of the century. I would have removed it myself when I got home.

His fingers returned to my collar to undo the top button. Two more followed. “Stop.” That word should have come out sooner. Why hadn’t it?

Felix’s finger stilled, and he cocked his head to one side. “Why? ”

“What?”

“Why do you want me to stop? Because you prefer women? You don’t have a wife. And you admitted to not having a girlfriend, so I don’t see why that matters. You can prefer women and still have fun with something harder. Something that can get into those hard to reach places.”

My cock was throbbing and my throat wasn’t just dry now—it was the Sahara Desert. “It’s nothing to do with me preferring women.”

“What is it to do with then?”

The question was so ridiculous that it almost didn’t seem worth answering. Wasn’t it obvious? “You’re my client.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“I do mind. I can’t…” I shook my head to clear it, Felix having wound a seductive spell over me without having done anything more than remove my tie and undo a few buttons. What was I, a Victorian damsel? I’d be swooning next, because he’d shown me his ankle. “We can’t do this.”

“But you want to.”

I struggled to pull in oxygen, my chest unwilling to cooperate and make the necessary movements. Maybe because one of Felix’s hands still rested there, right over my heart, his fingers burning a heated brand through the thin fabric. I should have worn something else to come here. Like a suit of armor or a full hazmat suit. Or maybe a straitjacket would be more apt.

“Seven years is a long time,” Felix said as his fingers started moving again and another button fell prey to their movements to leave my shirt open to mid-chest.

“Do you expect me to believe you were celibate for seven years?”

He lifted his head from his examination of my bare skin, a shadow crossing his face in another hint of vulnerability before he masked it. “ Not celibate, no. But it’s not the same. Its snatched moments with someone it’s doubtful you’d look twice at on the outside. Making do, if you will.” His lips curved slightly as he slid his hand inside my shirt. Fingers brushed my nipple, my body betraying me as the nub immediately peaked, even though the touch hadn’t been much of one. It might even have been accidental. “Now I get to choose.”

“I’m not on the menu.”

“No? So why haven’t you pushed me off? Why are you letting me do what I want?”

It was the same question I kept asking myself. Knowing it was time to bring this madness to an end, to show him he wasn’t the master of me, I convinced my arms to move and pressed my palms against his chest, intending to shove him. Only the feel of all that muscle under my hands had my brain short-circuiting. In a last gasp attempt to keep my sanity, I dredged up the worst thing that could come from this. “I could lose my job!” My voice sounded thin and desperate, the amount of pleading in it embarrassing. I don’t know what I’d hoped for—Felix recoiling and apologizing, maybe. But it wasn’t a smile like I’d told a funny joke. “I could!”

“What time do you finish?”

“What?”

“What time do you usually knock off for the day? It’s not that complicated a question.”

“Five.”

Felix deliberately turned his head to the side. I followed his gaze to an ornate clock on the mantelpiece. “That’s alright then. It’s a quarter past.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Why? ”

He couldn’t be that stupid, could he? “You don’t stop being my client after five. That’s a very simplified way of looking at the world.”

“I’m a very simple man.” His thumb stroked over my nipple, deliberately this time, a shudder running through me. “You’re not on call twenty-four hours a day. You can’t be.”

“No, but…” Why was thinking so hard? Why were my fingers still splayed over his chest, his heart thudding against my palm? Why? Why? Why? So many damn questions, and only a brain like spaghetti to answer them with.

Felix’s smile this time was knowing. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t. It can be our little secret.”