Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

“I’m not forcing her to stay,” he points out. “What can I say? Your pussy likes me.”
Huffing in annoyance, I slide my hands under Marie’s fluff and lift her into my arms. Once she
has been extracted from his hold, she tilts her head and nuzzles my neck. “The Stockholm syndrome is
wearing off already, hm?” I murmur, nuzzling her back. Her softness soothes my soul, but I’m still a
bit miffed about her enjoying him petting her. “He kidnapped you, you know? You’re not supposed to
like him.”
To prove she does, Calvin reaches over and offers his hand. She nuzzles her head right into his
palm.
“I should have adopted a dog,” I state wryly. “At least they’re loyal.”
Calvin’s lips quirk in amusement.
Behind us, Hollis asks, “Will you be needing anything else from me tonight, sir?”
Calvin shakes his head without looking away from me. “You can go.”
I didn’t expect Hollis to stay for dinner, but the prospect of our only possible chaperone leaving
makes my stomach pitch with dread. I don’t want to be left alone with Calvin. “Is there a private chef
here?” I ask.
Calvin nods and turns, obviously expecting me to follow him. “He’s making us dinner now.
We’ll have salad and three courses. Then dessert, of course.”
His last words send a shiver down my spine. I hope I’m not dessert.
He leads me down a hall, past a wine refrigerator with glass doors and into the open floorplan
kitchen.
A man with short dark hair in an all-black outfit stands at the counter beside the stove with his
back to us, preparing our first dishes.
Beyond the cooking area, a table is set beautifully for two against a backdrop of absolutely
stunning views of the city. The whole apartment—or at least what I can see of it—has floor to ceiling
windows and sweeping city views. I would never get anything accomplished if I lived here, I’d spend
every moment sitting in one of the comfy-looking chairs with Marie in my lap, watching the city down
below.
Marie squirms to let me know she wants down. I release her and she prances over to the white
fluffy blanket that appears to have been set up for her by the window. She gets comfy and sits there
watching us from her comfy perch.
“I see she hasn’t recovered from her bout of Stockholm after all,” I remark as Calvin pulls out a
chair for me.
“Why should she?” He places a hand on my shoulder and I tense as he leans a little closer. “I’ve
been treating her like a queen.”