“How long has Dave been working for you?” Her stupid question only adds fuel to my fire—the inferno already burning out of control inside me.
I get up and step around my desk. Keira’s eyes go wide when I stop in front of her and she sees the bulge in my pants.
“Get up!” I order. I’m so fucking tired of her questions. They're intrusive and unnecessary. She doesn't need to get to know me. She needs to learn to listen, to bend to my will—or I may just fucking break her.
She hesitates again, and I grab her by her silky, brown hair, my fingers digging into her scalp as I pull her to her feet. Her eyes, her lips, her body—all of it draws me in, begging me for things I'm not even sure it knows it wants.
A shriek of pain rips from her throat, and I shut her up with a searing kiss. Herhands land on my chest. I loosen my hold on her hair and pull her against me. I’m sure she’s going to push me away, but she shocks me and grips my shirt, holding me close while I devour those sweet lips.
Our lips still locked, I manage to pull her to the couch, settling her on my lap. My hand grips her head, tilting it back, giving me access to her neck. I see her pulse throb, and I press a kiss to it. My lips roam over the sensitive flesh, and I use my free hand to move her hips, grinding her into my cock.
“My offer still stands. Sex and I’ll protect you.” I murmur into her ear, releasing my hold on her hair so she can look at me. Her eyes fill with confusion.
“Last night…you said…”
She tries to stand, but I hold her down, pushing her ass onto my hard length, letting her feel how much I want her. Knowing I could have her if I really wanted to, but that I won’t, is driving me insane.
“Last night, I was drunk and high. I say a lot of shit I don’t mean when I’m high. Now, what’s it going to be? You going to spread those sweet legs for me willingly, or do you want your legs spread by someone else?”
Panic fills her eyes, and she tries to get up again. This time, I let her. As soon as she’s out of my lap, hate and disgust fill her eyes. The way she’s looking at me right now knocks the wind from my lungs. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but she runs out of the office, slamming the door behind her before I can get to her. I push the tightening of an emotion I don’t understand inside my chest away. I don’t bother following her. What’s the point? I told all my guys not to let her leave, and unlike her, they know better than to disobey me.
As I sit a moment longer, my cock throbbing with need, I realize Keira is an itch I can’t fucking scratch. She’ll never give herself up to me—never—and that bothers me a lot. But if I can’t have her, I’ll have someone else.
I need a blowjob right fucking now. That might fucking help me. Maybe it’ll get Keira out of my head. I think about it a second longer. I actually need fucking more than a blowjob, but I’m a little unhinged at the moment and don't want to hurt anyone, so I suppose I’ll just go for a blowjob.
I pick up the phone again and dial the bar. “Send Hayley to my officenow,” I growl into the line when Candy picks up, then I slam the phone back down and wait.
Two minutes later, I’m leaning back in my office chair while Hayley kneels in front of me, her pink painted lips wrapped around my dick, worshiping it like it’s a fucking god. She sucks hard and fast, and I close my eyes, enjoying her skills, wondering how much sweeter Kiera’s lips would feel wrapped around my cock instead.
Chapter 7
Keira
I’m angry. At myself. At the situation. I thought Damon was better than the man he just proved himself to be. How could I be so stupid? I knew he wouldn’t force me. I knew it, but that didn’t make his advances any less scary.
I wander aimlessly around the club trying every single exit Damon and I walked past earlier. Every single one has a bouncer standing in front.
Am I a prisoner now?
I notice people’s stares, how their eyes linger on me just a little too long. It leaves an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don’t look like any of the other girls here. In fact, I stick out like a sore thumb. I tuck a couple strands of hair behind my ear as I continue to survey the club. The staff watches me curiously, as if they don’t get Damon’s obsession with me. I want to tell them I don’t get it either, but I keep my mouth shut. I want to get out of here as soon as possible, and without making trouble for myself.
A couple strippers sneer at me as I walk past the dressing rooms, but they don’t say anything—which I’m thankful for. The club is open now, and I notice some men sitting around the center stage.
I see one of the strippers working the pole. She’s wearing nothing but a thong, her tits bouncing with every movement she makes. My cheeks heat at the image, and I avert my eyes. When one of the guys turns his attention to me, looking me up and down, I decide I’ve had enough searching for the day.
It’s painfully obvious no one here is going to let me leave, and after the way that guy stared at me like he wanted to eat me alive, there is no way I’m staying in this room, so I leave my pride behind and make my way back to Damon’s office.
He might be a monster, but I get the feeling there’re darker bastards lurking in the shadows here.
I walk swiftly down the hall and stop directly in front of Damon’s door. I twist the knob, opening it with ease, and instantly regret not knocking. Damon is behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed and arms behind his head. His features are full of pleasure. And as my gaze moves lower, I notice a head with long blonde hair bobbing up and down on his lap.
Oh my god, not on his lap...his cock.
She’s giving him a blow job.
My eyes bulge, the air in my lungs stills, and I swear I can hear my own heartbeat in my ears.
I don’t know who I hate more right now—him for being such an ass, or her for giving him a blowjob. Or maybe I should hate myself for feeling jealous.
