Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
TORMENT
By
Scarlett Dawn
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
TORMENT
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2017 © Scarlett Dawn
Format – Down Write Nuts Book Services
www.downwritenutsbookservices.com
Edit - RMJ Manuscript Service
http://www.rogenamitchell.com/
Cover - MadHat Covers
https://www.madhatcovers.com/
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
CHAPTER ONE
Pure dumb luck can kiss my lily-white ass. A couple of times. Right after I’ve had a bad bout of diarrhea. Then possibly lick the toilet bowl I shit in. Without flushing would be best.
Yeah. I hate luck. It’s for pussies.
And luck is the only way I would get caught. Their luck, not mine.
Fucking hell…
“Ms. Megan Marshall?” A man repeated his words for the third time behind me. “I know it’s you. You can quit ignoring me. Also, I’d like to commend you on your ability to disappear without a trace. If my alcohol-happy friend, just outside the door there arguing with his general foreman, hadn’t wanted a drink—in the middle of the day, I might add—then I still wouldn’t have found you.”
And that was an affirmative. I hadn’t lost my touch for disappearing.
Excuse me, Luck? You can go fuck yourself.
A puff of air rushed between my teeth in annoyance. I pinched the bridge of my nose as I reluctantly turned around. Only the bar I worked behind separated two men from my annoyed glare. I attempted to keep the surprise from my features seeing who was across from me—it wasn’t hard. I was that annoyed…but I was a little hopeful now. They weren’t my father’s henchmen. In fact, the two men staring me down were the exact opposite in every way from the idiots my father would have sent.
I stopped squeezing my nose to place my hands on my hips and leaned forward in aggravation. My voice was pitched low as I growled, “I don’t go by Megan here… so keep it down.”
Mr. Wolfe Cooper of Cooper Corporation smirked. “What do we call you then?”
“Nothing.” I pointed at the front door with a sharp finger—to where there were, indeed, two men standing outside arguing. “You guys can leave. I already answered all of Mr. Baker’s questions to the best of my ability after I was kidnapped.” I tipped my head to the man in question sitting next to Mr. Cooper. Mr. Baker’s white military styled hair gleamed in the sunlight, making him no less menacing. “He even recorded it. I have nothing else to say to your fancy, little group.”
Fancy was a polite term for these men.
Typically, I would use: Conceited, Greedy, Dangerous, Rich.
Maybe even: All-Powerful. Their entire group of corporation heads was most definitely that.
They ruled the world. Classifying them was simple.
Even if Mr. Godric King of King Corporation had disappeared for the last month. If the gossip rags were correct, he was on vacation. But I called bullshit. No one in his position of power goes on vacation for that long—with only his corporate besties to back up his business. No way, no how.
That man was in some type of trouble. And these two across from me were covering for him.
But I didn’t give a shit either way. I wanted nothing to do with these men.
When they didn’t move from the bar stools, I wiggled my finger at the door. “Now who is ignoring whom? I’m done talking with you.” I grimaced and dropped my arms and hugged my chest. “And please forget you ever saw me here.”
This new job actually paid decently—all direct credits from the tips. Other than the construction of new buildings occurring outside the area on the outskirts of New City, it was an easy, entertaining job. My spirits had even started to lift when I was able to rent a small apartment directly in New City—instead of living in an alley two blocks away from work.
Mr. Baker didn’t smile. He only stared with cold eyes. “Are you sure you didn’t forget any pertinent information about your kidnapper? Anything at all that could help us catch him?”
Lowering my arms from around my chest, I leaned on the bar toward them. There was something in his voice. It was a little off. If I had to guess, it was pain pushing through his solid, frigid defenses. With a glimmer of curiosity leading my actions, I questioned, “Did something else happen?”
Mr. Cooper shook his head of gray hair. “No, nothing else.”
But Mr. Baker kept his eyes on mine. “Yes.”
His friend’s attention snapped to him. He grumbled in warning, “Finn—”
Mr. Baker lifted his hand to cut off his friend, not peering away from my person. “I answered you, Megan. Now answer my question.”
My lips pinched, and I shook my head softly. Sorrow actually squeezed my chest, making my shoulders hunch, since he was this hard up for information. Whatever else had happened must have been awful—and I had seen firsthand how demented my kidnapper was. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any other information to give you. I did tell you everything that day.”
He lowered his hand and nodded, his white brows furrowing. “I do appreciate that. And I am sorry if I frightened you. I’m sure that wasn’t pleasant after dealing with him.”
I straightened and chuckled, shaking my head. “Yeah, you were an asshole.”
“I was doing what I had to.” He shrugged his massive shoulders.
“I’m sure you were.” I rolled my eyes and gave up the fight. “Well, if you handsome guys aren’t leaving like I asked, you could buy a drink or a shitty snack we have here. And be sure to leave me a fabulous tip—for the emotional distress I had to endure before.”
>
Both instantly glared.
I snickered softly. Winked.
Men like these guys weren’t capable of real change, even if a half-hearted apology was given—too late. Their dominant side ruled all, including their thought processes. A virtual stranger like me could only go so far with the teasing.
It still wouldn’t stop me.
My own stubborn, dominant side wouldn’t allow for me to be brought down a peg by bossy men. I’d had enough of that in my life. I was in their league of mind games even if they didn’t know it.
Of course, just as I was getting ready to dive in deep with them and manage to extract an excellent tip, it was then the most delectable male walked into the bar, and all my hormonal senses crashed down on my libido. He had to have been shot from Hell and deposited on earth purposely by the Devil, just to torment the ladies—or men. Regular guys who sat behind a desk all day were not made like him. He was extraordinary in all the rip-my-panties-off places a woman fantasized about while having their Tuesday night scheduled sex session in hopes of keeping things frisky in the bedroom—after twenty-five years of an arranged marriage.
Men like him just weren’t real. And he was staring right at me.
White flag! White flag! I surrender to thee.
Come take my breath away… And put those long fingers wherever you want to.
“Hello, hello, hello,” I whispered under my breath. “I could lick that man all day long.”
Mr. Cooper and Mr. Baker both blinked and then craned their necks around to see who I was staring at. It was Mr. Baker who snorted, and mumbled, “I should have guessed.”
Mr. Cooper merely shook his head in exasperation. “I don’t get it.”
“Then you don’t have eyes,” I hissed. I ran my fingers through my hair quickly as they turned back around to face the bar. I asked in a rush, “Are the gossip mongers telling the truth this time? Is he still single?”
“He’s always single,” Mr. Cooper mumbled and tilted his head to view the alcohol on the shelves behind me. “I’ll take a—”
“Shh. I don’t give a shit what you want,” I griped, cutting him off.
Then my eyes were glued to the man-god as he sat down next to his friends.
Mr. Rune Mason of Mason Corporation. He owned the largest construction company in the world, and by his current appearance in a simple white t-shirt and black cargo pants, he didn’t mind getting his hands dirty. My lower stomach quivered in appreciation, the smudges of white dust marring his forehead and his forearms heating my blood. He placed his strong hands on the bar, cocking his head to blatantly evaluate me.
I didn’t mind. I was doing the same to him.
His shoulder-length black hair slipped to cover his right eye, but I could see his other one perfectly. Eyes the color of vibrant sunshine roved up and down my frame. His red lips parted in obvious surprise as he inhaled through his nose deeply, his nostrils flaring. Oddly, I had noticed a lot of the male customers who frequented this bar sniffed in my direction when first meeting me. It was weird as hell, but none of them reacted as Mr. Rune Mason was currently doing.
His chest was pumping as fast as mine was. His golden eyes were as dilated as my blue eyes were. Our black hair shifted in the breeze as an air conditioner overhead turned on as if the machinery knew we were both going to combust into flames at any moment.
I raised one black brow at his silence. I may be getting laid soon. And it had been a long, long time. A shiver ran down my spine as I exhaled.
His golden eyes blinked, taking away their magnificence momentarily. As if he were in a trance, he mumbled, “You smell like sex and home…and chocolate chip cookies.”
My mouth bobbed in confusion. “Thank you? Maybe?”
Mr. Baker’s blue eyes widened, glancing between us. “Ah, hell.”
CHAPTER TWO
At the sound of his friend’s voice, Mr. Mason shook his head, attempting to gain his wits back. “Ignore my idiocy a moment ago.” He extended his hand in my direction, a teasing smile flirting on his lips. “I’m Rune. And you are?”
I placed my right hand in his, stating automatically, “I know who you are. I’m Megan.”
Mr. Cooper stared. “I thought you didn’t want your name—”
“Shh,” I hushed the interloper. My eyes dipped as I watched the most beautiful man lean his head over my hand and kiss the top of it. I had to lean against the bar as my knees went numb in delight, all from a simple brush of his lips against my flesh. His skin was so warm, causing mine to heat even further, a few drops of perspiration dotting my forehead. Reluctantly, I took my hand back, our eyes still on one another’s. “They said you were thirsty. What can I get you?”
Mr. Cooper stated quickly, “I’ll take—”
My blue eyes snapped to him. “I said be quiet. I’m not talking to you.” Then my attention returned to where it wanted to be, my voice softening in a surge of need. “What would you like, Rune?”
Mr. Baker choked on a laugh and sat back on his barstool, silent and observant.
Mr. Cooper merely glared and attempted to flag down the other bartender.
Rune crooked his left arm and placed his strong, angular chin on a fist, his golden eyes shimmering in the light. Both slashes of his black brows lifted, a teasing smile still gracing his lips. The pheromones between us were off the charts—instant ignition. His purr was intimate as if he were swiping his tongue along my pebbled nipples already. “Let’s see, Megan. To start with, I would like you in the storage closet that I know is only twenty feet away—since my company built this building. Then I’d like for you to take off that tacky purple apron so I could undress you more easily—since I’ll be in that storage closet with you.”
I gasped in much, much anticipation. He was just as forward as I was.
Gimme, gimme this hot man. Naked. In the storage room. Pronto.
His friend Mr. Cooper glanced at him. “That’s a little forward, even for you, dickhead.”
“Butt the fuck out, like the beautiful woman said,” Rune growled.
He didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Have you met her before, like Finn has?”
Golden eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as he eyed Mr. Baker. “How do you know her?”
Mr. Baker lifted his hands, as if in surrender. A small grin was curving the edges of his lips. “Not in that way. I’ll explain later.” He lowered his hands and tipped his head to the back room. “We’ll wait, by the way. Have your fun.”
Mr. Cooper started massaging his forehead but didn’t comment further.
Golden eyes skimmed back to my face, staring at my lips. “Yes or no, beautiful?”
I snapped my jaw shut and glanced at the other bartender. “Let me see if she’ll cover for me.”
There was no way I was passing up an impressive man between my legs. My core was already singing his praises, wet and needy for him. I required release like I needed my next paycheck.
Mr. Baker was ever so helpful. “Wolfe and I will keep her busy. Go on.”
My brows snapped together. “Why are you being nice?”
Nothing was ever free.
His massive shoulders shrugged. “I’m a gentleman like that.”
“A gentleman who loves knives and has a friend who can practically fly through the air.” I snorted, memories of his friend, Cassander, jumping higher than anyone ‘normal’ ever could. Though I tried to block out the memories of my kidnapping as much as possible. None of it made any sense. “But I’ll take it. Keep her busy for a while?”
Rune stood from his barstool and slapped a hand down on Mr. Baker’s shoulder. He nibbled on his bottom lip, even as he watched me remove my apron and turn in the direction of the storage room. He ordered quietly, “A long while, Finn. If anyone interrupts us, I’ll kill them.”
“I believe you, man. I believe you.” Mr. Baker patted his friend’s hand. Then he was lifting an arm as I hurried on fast feet to my orgasm destination, his deep voice booming inside the crowded bar. “
Excuse me, miss? Yes, you. I’d like to know all about the liquor you have here.”
“What’s his problem?” my partner in bartending asked me.
I hurried past her. “No clue.” I didn’t look back.
I dodged in and out of customers at the standing tables, a few sniffing in my direction and raising their eyebrows as I skittered past them. Then their attention would catch on Rune following at a safe distance behind, their eyes widening before they abruptly found another place to stare.
I was sure he was intimidating to most. Just not me.
All I wanted was a fan-fucking-tastic sexy time with him. That was all.
His status in life didn’t bother me. It just didn’t impress me the way it did others. I’d known powerful men forever. Another one didn’t mean anything.
Rune managed to beat me to the storage room—or closet as he had stated. I eyed the inside as he opened the door for me, my nose wrinkling at the small space. But fuck it. I wanted to get fucked.
I stepped into the area and turned to the side so he could fit too.
He didn’t bother to turn on the one light as he shut the door behind himself. There were no shelves in here yet, the building still new. No brooms or cleaning supplies to step on. It was just him and me and the walls hugging us—literally embracing us it was so tight a fit.
Darkness and instant heat descended.
He grunted as he wiggled his shoulders, trying to find a more comfortable position. He muttered softly, “I forgot how tiny this place was.” Another grunt—as he stepped on my right foot.
I pulled my shoe out from underneath his. “Maybe we should wait for later?”
Shut up, Megan. Shut up!
“To hell with that. I’m rock hard and need to be inside your sweet little cunt.” His warm palms landed on my sides, right above my hips. “We can make do. I’ve been in more cramped quarters than this before. The woman still screamed my name.”
“Don’t need to know that, stud.” I grabbed at the hem of his t-shirt and yanked it up in jerky motions, banging my elbows against the walls. “Turn to the right a little.”
Torment Page 1
