Chapter 0211

“What!” I shriek, shocked, a noise that makes Kent laugh.

“Kent!” I hiss in a whisper, remembering that this is apparently a secret and that I should be quiet, “put me down! I need my

pants!”

“No, you don’t,” he replies, laughing a little with derision as he climbs. “Those ugly shorts — where did you get those anyway?”

“They're comfortable!” I protest.

Kent shocks me then by delivering a punishing little smack on my ass, making me yelp. He laughs again and I can feel his head

moving against my hip, shaking from side to side in frustration. “All the resources in the world,” he mutters, “and you order

polyester pajamas — honestly Fay —*

“They're cute!” I retort, shocked and a little offended as he continues to carry me up the steps slung over his shoulder like a sack

of potatoes.

“They're horrible,” he mutters, pushing open a door and passing through it. As Kent turns to close the door behind him, I look

around and am mildly surprised to see that we're in his bedroom. “I’m going to put those clothes in the incinerator first thing in

the morning,” Kent informs me, pulling me off his shoulder and lowering me down to my place in his bed.

“Rude,” I retort, laying back against Kent’s pillows and narrowing my eyes at him. A little smile grows on my face when I see him

pause, looking over my naked body. “If you burn my clothes, what will I wear?”

“Nothing,” he drawls, sliding his hands into his pockets and looking hungrily down at me. “Ever again, if I have anything to say

about it.”

I laugh, then, and am pleased when I see him smile. “I'll get cold,” I protest, giving a little pout.

“We'll wrap you up,” he retorts, bending down to pull back the comforter and sheets and tuck me into them, his hands lingering

unnecessarily long on my ass as he does. Then, that done, Kent picks a book up from the nightstand — my nightstand,

apparently, and a book I didn’t place there — and tosses it to me to keep me occupied while he turns and heads to the closet.

As Kent pulls the closet door open and disappears inside, I cock my head, considering...does Kent Lippert have pajamas?

What do they look like?

Biting my lip in anticipation of finding out, I look down at the book, a well-loved hardcover with a gilt title that reads Control and

Manipulation. I flip it open, wondering if Kent just tossed me the first book he found to keep me occupied, or if he picked this for

me...

I look up, distracted, when Kent comes out of the closet again wearing nothing but his underwear. I can’t help the way my eyes

follow him as he crosses the room, as I admire his well-muscled form, his eight-pack abs, his strong legs and his round ass.

I'm still watching him, unable to tear my eyes away, as he moves to his side of the bed, picking up his alarm clock. “Kent?” I ask

quietly.

“Hmm?” he replies, only paying half attention to me as he sets his alarm.