“You’re the one playing the role,” Grace teases me various times through the weekend. “You aren’t going to send me an invoice for how you’ve been acting the perfect boyfriend, are you?”

I pick her up and set her on the countertop so she can’t go running around the open plan apartment. She has a tendency to start a game of chase me whenever her nervousness or insecurity arises. It’s made for a fun weekend as I catch her every time and we end up fucking like it’s the last weekend for the planet. But I can tell she thinks it genuinely is and that I’m going back to my ‘playboy ways’ as she calls them, the instant Monday arrives.

“Babe you have to trust your trust in me. I’m not going to change how I feel about you. I don’t know what this is yet because I’ve been burned by instalove before, realizing it’s only hormones. But what’s between us isn’t like that. It’s definitely something so just relax and go with it. Can you do that?”

Tears fill her eyes, threatening to spill. But she smiles directly into my solid gaze and wraps her hands around the back of my neck. A possessional move that I actually enjoy when performed by Grace and one that soon has me pushing her thighs apart for the - god knows what the number of times it’s been in the last twenty four hours. We just can’t get enough of each other and I can’t see that evaporating over the next twelve.

I don’t wanna get sappy but I spend the best Sunday of my life just hanging out with Grace. I make her breakfast while she sits on the countertop wearing my shirt just like I envisioned. We eat in bed and don’t move from it until the afternoon when I get her up to go for a walk. Hand in hand we stroll up Fifth and back down Park like any couple.

Except she tips her face up to me at one point, no special reason but the look in her eyes sets my alight. I pick her up in my arms and jog back to the house, tossing her down on the rug as soon as I kick the door closed on the outside world behind us. She’s not moving from my bed the rest of the day.

We take the car to the office together on Monday morning and she looks up at me cheekily, when she says, “I’ve always wanted you to fuck me in the back of your town car, Sir.”

“You little vixen,” I tell her, laughing. “You’re a corporate spy, sent by the competition to bankrupt me, aren’t you?”

She’s so distracting all I can think of is being deep inside her while my mouth trails across her skin. Business is entirely forgotten.

We’re still joking when we get out of my elevator, her hand in mine and I lead her past the break room where it all began. She looks up at me again with that naughty grin. Then she slides her hand out of mine, remembering that we’ve arrived at my office. And I need to play my role as the big boss. I’m just about to tell her I don't give a shit who sees us. I want people to know. But we round the corner and standing beside Janice’s desk is Mrs, whatever – Grace’s parole officer.

I feel my girl tense up beside me and know this can’t be good.

“Good morning, Mr Grady,” the woman says deferentially then less so, “And Grace.”

“Good morning -” Janice immediately picks up on my loss and interjects for me, coming to the rescue.

“Ms Treadwell has come to check on Grace, as she um, hasn’t been seen at her residence for almost a month.”

“I -” Grace interrupts, immediately on the defensive, but I stop her.

“I moved Grace into town,” I tell the woman.

“That isn’t permitted,” she replies. Her attitude of ownership suddenly irritates me as never before. Grace belongs to me not her.

“I decide what’s permitted in my company, Ms Treadwell. I need my interns here in the office on time, not wasting their lives sitting in city traffic.”

“There are rules. But apart from that, Grace, you were in trouble with the police again -”

“I wasn’t.”

“Officer Pandy called me himself.”

“I have no doubt,” I interject. This is all my fault, I moved Grace, I told that officer to leave my building.

“You were planning to leave the country,” the woman accuses my girl.

“I was not,” Grace shouts. I can see how mad she’s getting over the woman’s assumptions that all her – assumptions – are correct.

“And you can’t deny that you were drinking and fighting on Saturday.”

She holds up her phone with a video some asshat must have posted of Grace and Sophie in their catfight. Also my fault.

“She attacked me and pulled me into the pool,” Grace yells.

“I know, Dear. Its’ always someone else’s fault,” the parole officer says with excess pretense of patience.

She’s meant to be a charitable worker but I’m not seeing much sign of that when she adds, “I’m going to have to take you back in.”

“No,” Grace screams and grabs my forearm so tight her fingers gouge at the muscle almost as hard as when she screams my name as she comes.

“She’s not going anywhere,” I announce firmly.

“I’m sorry I truly am, but if you don't comply Grace and be a good girl, I’ll have to call for back up.”

For fucks sake. Don’t these people have any real criminals to harass? Grace has started with the terror shaking again and the woman’s going to need the fucking army of SEAL forces to get Grace out of my care. They want a power battle, they’re about to see one.

I take Grace by the hand, walk her into my office and yank open a drawer in my desk. I have to rummage at the back to find what I’m looking for. The social worker woman outside is already on the phone making a call to the cops. She stands in my doorway, making sure I can hear her. Like I’m going to be intimidated by a couple of beat Sargents. Grace’s eyes stretch wide when she sees what I was looking for. I drag her across to my closet and her parole officer halts mid-sentence when she sees what I’m doing.

I snap the handcuffs I pulled out around Grace’s wrists. Then I raise her arms above her head and attach them to the bar for hanging heavy coats supported into the cement where my personal safe is. She’s safely secured for now, not going anywhere. I slip the key into my trouser pocket and pull out my phone to make a call to my friend, Judge Chapman.

Back when he was a lawyer, he picked up my case, got my sentence rescinded and the criminal record expunged. I owe him everything and he’s collected many times over.

“Andy, how are the wife and the dog?” I ask when he picks up on the second ring.

He makes the usual joke about wishing he could be married to the dog or some shit, then like always asks me when I’m going to find a woman to shackle up to.

“Actually I have a girlfriend and we’re pretty serious but she’s in a little trouble. I was hoping you could help me.”

I love seeing the shock horror roll across the three women’s faces surrounding me. My assistant is used to my defiant stunts when it comes to crossing the authorities and doing what I want. But this time, even she is gobsmacked by my audacious attitude. She’s never seen me in love before.

Naturally my old pal Andy has a friend of a friend connected to Grace’s case and says it could take a day or two but he’s sure it will be taken care of. It’s gonna cost me but Grace is worth anything and everything.

“So Ms, er,” I turn to the social worker that makes her living liaising with my charitable foundation.

“Treadwell,” Janice murmurs, still slack jawed.

“Yeah, Ms Treadwell. It’s your choice, either you can willingly leave Grace’s rehabilitation in my care, or I’ll have to leave her shackled in my closet until Judge Chapman gets the paperwork over to me.”

“I don’t know. This is kind of irregular.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve never been in this situation myself either but I'm sure you understand that I have to protect the woman I love at all costs. I’m sure you can make this go away without me having to hire anyone to dig up something you’d rather was left buried.”

Her face clouds over and then anger rises but she squashes it back down fast.

“I’ll give it two days and do whatever my supervisor tells me,” she snips.

“I’m sure you will. Janice, show Ms Treadwell to the elevator will you?”

The two women look frozen in shock then move away.

“Oh by the way,” I call them back. “What you don’t see on that vicious little video is that Grace saved the woman’s life. She deserves to be applauded for her selflessness not slung back in the slammer for not cow-towing to stupid rules.”

Treadwell opens her mouth to speak but clearly can’t think of anything to say. With a last look at Grace handcuffed in my coat closet, she allows Janice to lead her away.

I round on Grace, triumphantly and find her staring at me and breathing erratically. She looks absolutely gorgeous restrained in my closet like that.

“I don’t know why I didn’t train you better from the start,” I tell her, with a filthy grin so she relaxes and forces a smile. “I may have to keep you like that forever.”

Her lip is trembling so hard I think I’ve done a terrible thing in padlocking her into restraints. Have I triggered a slew of memories she can’t deal with? Perhaps my baby will never really be over that horror she went through even in a playful environment. As I take a few steps toward her she tenses up. But her nipples are hard little points pushing through the fabric of her dress.

“I want you inside me right now,” she says so softly I move closer to hear her better. Her eyes turn up to me filled with the heat of desire. “Fuck me, Hopper. Now.”