“You are such a freak,” I laugh out.

Masen works in his office for a bit while I do my homework then start to play with my new camera. I take a few pictures of the inside of the house but decide I need a better muse. Sneaking to his office, I can hear him on the phone speaking sternly to someone. I lower to my hands and knees, wrapping the camera’s strap around my neck. I crawl through the door one-handed while I use the other hand to steady the camera. I move behind the sofa as quickly as I dare. I don’t think he knows I’m in the room. He’s facing the opposite wall, looking out the window.

I turn off the flash and change the shutter speed to hopefully keep the camera silent. “Just handle it! That’s what you’re paid to do!” he snaps as he turns and hangs up the phone. “Fucking idiot,” he curses. I snap the first picture. He didn’t seem to hear me, so I wait until I’m ready and continue snapping away. He’s so attractive. His harsh face rugged. You would never know hours ago he was playing with me and pouting in the shower. I love that I see the sweet, kind side of him. Seconds pass before he lifts his head and scents the air. Masen’s whole face changes and I snap shot after shot as his eyes light up and the corners of his mouth lifting. God, he’s gorgeous.

“You can’t hide, Little One. If I wasn’t so damn distracted, I would have known the moment your pretty, little ass came within twenty feet. Now come out and give me a kiss. These people piss me off,” He states gruffly. I poke my head up and pout back at him.

“I was working,” I say in mock chastisement.

“Kiss. Baby, I need it.” He looks at me from under his brows, trying to be firm, but his lips are soft with one corner turned up. I huff like it's a pain but comply. I throw myself onto his lap dramatically.

Masen kisses me sweetly like he’s afraid of anything more after this morning. I turn up the heat a bit but pull away before it gets too far. “I love you, Masen.”

His eyes bore into mine. “Love you, too, Little One.”

I sit with him while he works a bit more before asking, “What’s Black Industries?”

“One of my businesses,” he answers aloofly.

“What kind of business?”

“I have lots of little businesses. Black Industries is one of the larger ones, but it holds lots of little ones.” He smiles kindly.

“Why are you being so weird? This is the second time I’ve asked you about your business, and you just keep being evasive. Do you not want me to know?” I ask defensively.

“No, no,” he dismisses me. “It’s nothing like that. I just own lots of business, but the only one I really have a hand in anymore is Black Industries. I don’t mean to be weird about it,” he chuckles, “Most everyone around here knows what it is. A lot of shifters come here just because I own Black.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve gotten in the habit of not talking about it.”