With my back to the door, I was reviewing patient charts in a quiet work room when the air pressure shifted, a familiar weight pressing down on me before I even glanced over my shoulder.
Remo leaned against the doorframe, immaculate in a dark suit that screamed killer power in a place dedicated to healing, his eyes finding me with predatory ease. He didn’t look like a man who owed an explanation, more like one who expected obedience.
The one day I didn’t want to see him, went up in smoke and with it my resolve to not lose my cool. “How could you?” The accusation tore out of me before I could stop them. I shot up from the chair, not caring that in toppled over, hitting the floor with a resounding clatter and pulling the attention of the nursing staff behind him. “You put Sean in the hospital.”
Remo pushed off the frame, stepping into the room until the space felt suffocatingly small. “Sean put himself in the hospital. I simply ensured he understood the consequences.”
“He kissed me,” I snapped, stepping forward instead of back. “That doesn’t give you the right to break his bones.”
“It gives me every right.” He closed the distance in one easy stride, backing me against a counter. His hands caged me in, gripping the edge of the surface on either side of my hips. “I told him what would happen. He chose to ignore me.”
“You’re insane.” I tried to shove past him, but he caught my wrist. “Let me go. People are watching.”
“Let them watch.” His voice dropped, a low rumble that vibrated through my chest. “Let them see who you belong to.”
“I don’t belong to anyone.” I yanked at my hand, but he moved closer, until the hard line of his body pressed into mine. The heat of him was overwhelming, drowning out the sterile scent of the hospital. “You have no claim on me, Remo. No right to dictate who I see, who I kiss, who I–”
His grip shifted, one hand around my waist, the other coming up to trap my chin. I opened my mouth to hurl the insult burning on my tongue, to tell him exactly where he could shove his claim.
“Happy birthday to you,” sung by my three friends entering the room, carrying a cake, stopped my words mid-thought. Their appearance, a welcome sight, I tried to smile. “Happy birthday to…” their voices trailed off, replaced by loud gasps.
Remo turned his head to look at them over his shoulder, his hand on my chin dropping to my waist. Their expressions a mixture shocked confusion, three pairs of eyes flittered to me before settling back on Remo, the candles the only flicker of movement between their frozen figures and ours.
“Sorry, Ishika, we didn’t know you had company,” Stasia was the first to break the unbearable silence before she tried to quickly usher them out. “C’mon?—”
“Stay!” That deep timbre in Remo’s voice cemented them in place.
They stopped moving to look at us and I caught the sassy lift of Stasia’s brow. She didn’t flinch, simply holding his gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary, a silent exchange passing between them that felt less like strangers and more like two predators acknowledging the same territory.
I knew she’d take him down to protect me, if it came to that. Her gaze shifted to my face, questioning. I assured her I was okay with a nod. Just as Remo turned to face me again, Stasia seemed to settle, the tension draining from her shoulders. The others were still frozen, but Stasia looked almost calm probably because he was focusing on me now, not them.
“It’s your birthday.” The statement was made in a surprisingly tender voice.
“None of your business.” I pulled at my hand still grasped by his fingers.
His hand came up to cup my jaw, the firm hold forcing me to look at him. “Every single thing about you is my business, even the color of your fucking shit.” Hot color burned my cheeks. “Now. Go celebrate with your friends now, I’ll fetch you after work.”
“What?” I choked, trying to yank my chin out of his hold. “I have plans,” I rushed on, trying to figure out his end game which I knew was an impossibility.
“Cancel them,” he ordered, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. I stilled. “Enjoy your cake, my little fox because the only candle you’ll be blowing tonight, is my thick, hard cock.”
“Oh, my God,” I uttered a nervous laugh. “What makes you think I’d want to. I don’t know you and you don’t know me?—”
He angled his head, bringing his mouth to my ear. “I know enough.” He licked the shape of my ear before biting down on the lobe.
I shook so hard; it was no wonder I was still standing upright. His soft chuckle only served to tighten my lower abdomen with a need I had yet to grasp around a man I didn’t know.
“You feel it, don’t you? That insane desire to have my cock buried deep inside your tight cunt. That bizarre yearn to have my cum quench your thirsty throat again. That strange mouthwatering need to gag on my dick once more.”
I gulped, trying to infuse every bit of disinterest into my stare. I failed because his next words stole the air to my lungs.
“When I fuck you tonight, I’m going to ruin you. Every part of you belongs to me now. I’m going to wreck your sweet cunt until it only gets wet for me.” His warm breath wafted over my lips as I struggled to breathe. “And by the time your birthday is over, you’ll be on your back, on your stomach and on your fucking knees, taking my cock in every little hole like a good fucking girl.”
He stepped back with a wink and walked out, leaving me gaping at the door for a few seconds before I swallowed lungsful or air.
“Holy fuck, he came back.” Brandi gawked as Stasia set the cake down on the table and they surrounded me.
“Did he hurt you?” Stasia gripped my arms, her eyes wide with worry.
