by Alexa Riley
A little too much.
With a grunt of frustration, I dig around in my purse to locate the morning-after pill I bought on the way to work this morning. I’m praying to God he’s clean because we had sex carelessly four times without a condom. I quickly down the pill with my water bottle and put my purse away.
Heat creeps up my neck as I steal a glance toward his office. The door is closed, and I can hear Jeff’s deep voice booming on the other side. Whatever they’re talking about doesn’t seem like it’s good.
Once my computer is finally powered up, I find I have two emails waiting for me. The first is from Clint and the second is from Gray. I ignore Mr. Fuck-A-Lot and open the important one. Clint’s sent me a Word document, listing all of all my new duties. I already do everything on the list each day, aside from manage people. After I reply to him that I received it and save it for easy access, I open Gray’s email.
Violet,
Last night was incredible. YOU are incredible. I want to take you to lunch.
Gray
I smile because he’s pretty incredible too. After my ex, I should be hesitant to dive right into something with someone—my boss no less—so quickly, especially considering he’s extremely attentive but I can’t help myself. His magnetism draws me in.
Vaughn was the same way…
I squash the thought because I refuse to let my past dictate my future. Gray is generous and thoughtful and sweet. He’s not psychotic. I’ve worked for him for six long years, and although he’d been nicknamed Mad Max for his eccentric ways, not one time had I thought he was an evil person.
He’s just hyper-focused.
Obsessive about his company.
Driven to succeed.
But not a possessive lunatic.
I’m still trying to convince myself when Gray’s office door creaks open, and Jeff steps out. His gaze darts over to mine. Guilt shines in his eyes. My heart rate speeds up, and I frown at him. He gives me a quick wave in greeting before stalking back to his office. I’m still staring at him when Gray comes sauntering out. He’s scowling until he sees me. All irritation melts from his expression as his face lights up. And dammit, I feel my face lighting up too. I love how my presence seems to cheer him up.
“Good morning,” I say with a smile.
He strolls over to my desk and sits on the edge. When he reaches out to toy with a strand of my hair, my eyes flutter closed and I exhale a tiny sigh. His fingertips brush along my jaw and down my throat. I pop my eyes open when he touches the string of pearls my mother gave to me as a high school graduation present.
“I like this necklace on you,” he praises, his dark brows pulled together as he inspects my jewelry. This necklace was the only thing I was able to take with me when I ran away from Vaughn because I happened to be wearing it that day.
My heart is thundering because, God, he smells delicious and he’s touching me intimately, despite our workplace setting. Warning bells are going off inside my head because all it takes is the wrong person seeing our exchange to give me hell. Unfortunately for me, I’ve never been one to heed warnings very well and tend to float off into the deep end without a raft.
Gray will save me.
Once, I thought Vaughn would too.
A rough thumb brushes against my bottom lip and my eyes dart to his. His icy blue eyes are narrowed as he scrutinizes me. Seconds pass by—tick, tick, tick—as I remain under his microscope. The thing with Gray is, it’s almost as if he can see right into my head. As if he knows exactly what’s running through my mind. I feel naked and exposed around him.
“Are you sore?” he questions, his voice husky. His eyes flicker with heat that burns its way straight to my core.
I jerk my gaze around the office but nobody is paying attention. “Yes,” I admit with a whisper.
A smug grin tugs at his handsome mouth. “Good. I like the idea of you thinking about my big cock every time you sit down.”
“Gray!” I hiss and once again do a visual sweep of the office for nosy co-workers.
He shrugs. “What? I’m just being honest. How busy are you right now?”
This feels like a trick question, and like the naïve girl I am, I follow him right into the proverbial white van where he promises candy and puppies. “Not very busy.”
“Good,” he says with a wolfish grin that has my panties becoming wet between my thighs. “I need your assistance in my office.”
He stands and turns away to walk back to his room. My gaze roams his fit body that looks too perfect in a suit. It’s a good thing I’m leaving this company soon because having to stare at him each day looking good enough to eat is quite distracting.
I’ll be leaving soon.
Several days ago, I’d have been thrilled.
But that was all before Gray finally noticed me.
Guilt and indecision wars within me. He’s already done so much for me. We’ve gone from co-workers to friends to lovers in a matter of days. Grayson Maxwell is so intense that I’ve easily been swept up into his vortex.
How will it feel when I finally crawl my way out?
Will I be the same?
Rising from my chair, I push away those thoughts for now as I stride into his office and close the door behind me.
“Lock it.”
His rough command sends shivers through my body. I flip the lock and regard him with my hands on my hips.
“What do you need help with?” I question, my voice raw and shaky.
He sheds his jacket and hangs it on the back of his chair. The powder blue dress shirt he’s wearing today molds perfectly against his skin. I can see his tattoos through the fabric and it sends another thrill shooting through me.
“Gray,” I try again, my voice rising. “What do you need?”
He arches a brow at me and pins me with a smoldering glare. “You know what I need.”
As I choke on my words, he unbuttons his shirt at his wrist and begins rolling up his sleeve. The veins in his forearm bulge and the muscles flex with his movement. I find myself staring at his wrist of all things with my mouth watering for a taste. He continues on with the other side. Then, he begins working at the knot on his navy-colored tie.
My body is about to combust. Between my thighs, my panties are drenched. Hardened nipples scratch against my bra. And an internal fire alights my flesh from the inside out. He sheds the tie and undoes the first two buttons before placing his hands on his hips to mimic my position.
“I need you to look over some contracts with me. I want some advice,” he says as he strolls over to sit in his chair. I’m so dumbfounded by the quick turn of events that it takes me a second for my mind to catch up to his words.
“Contracts?” I murmur.
His dark brow arches up again, and he smiles crookedly at me. “Contracts.” Then his gaze narrows as he roams my body. “You didn’t think we were going to fuck in here, did you? With everyone listening?”
I swallow and shake my head before hurrying over to the seat across from his desk. Snagging the nearest folder on his desk, I snap it open and stare at the words on a page. My brain is running a hundred miles per hour. Nothing on the page makes sense.
He reaches across the desk and snags my wrist. I let out a yelp when he pulls my hand to his face. Then, in a shocking move, he sucks on my middle finger. I dart my gaze to his blazing one, my lips parted open in surprise. His tongue teases the underside of my finger like he’s done on my clit which has a low moan escaping me.
“Baby,” he growls and playfully bites my flesh before pulling away. “I most definitely want to fuck you. Right here on this desk. I want to make you scream. I want your pussy to drip all over these files and smear the ink. Violet, I want my cock buried so deep in your sore cunt that you beg me to stop.” Another growl. “But that’s the thing, beautiful, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I’d fuck you all day over and over. You’d be weak from all the orgasms, and I’d be worthless to run this company. Together, we’re explosive.” He kisses t
he tip of my finger. “Which is why the fireworks have to stay outside of this building.”
I swallow and nod. “You drive me crazy with the way you talk…”
“I know.” He winks and flashes me a knowing grin before releasing me.
Now that I know I won’t be getting spread out over the desk and feasted upon like a Thanksgiving dinner, I can focus. Focus. Focus.
Violet, focus.
“I HAD A PET BIRD ONCE,” he murmurs, his voice soft.
My fingers had been stroking circles on his bare chest. “Mmm?” I look up to find him staring up at my bedroom ceiling, lost in thought. After a productive day at work, he took me out for sake and sushi. Then, we ended up in my bed where he made me come so hard I nearly forgot my name.
But I didn’t forget the condom.
I managed to throw one at him and even ignored his groans of complaint.
The sex was amazing.
This cuddling thing, though, is even better. I’d missed human connection. Simple kissing and touching.
“I’d been hunting quail with my dad. We killed a mother. She left behind a squawking baby bird. My father was pissed when I told him I was going to keep it as a pet,” he tells me gruffly. “I hardly ever acted out against my father. But I wanted it, Violet. I needed it. Something about that bird spoke to me.”
I smile because him caring for a little bird is sweet. “How old were you?”
“Nine.” His hand covers mine on his chest and he rubs his thumb along my flesh. “I took it home. Named it Wail the Quail.” We both laugh. “Wail was loud and needy. But I loved him. I’d marched my butt down to the library and checked out every book I could find on quails. I learned about their feeding, nesting, sleep habits. Everything there was to know about Wail, I made it my job to figure out.”
“That’s so sweet,” I say, leaning forward to kiss his jaw.
He’s quiet for a moment before speaking. “I loved that bird. Dad knew it.” His voice grows cold, sending shards of ice poking at me. “One day, Mom cooked a nice dinner. As we were eating, Dad not-so-kindly pointed out that we were eating Wail’s mother.”
I tense and stare at him. His eyes are clenched shut and his nostrils flare with fury. I kiss him again in hopes to calm him, but it doesn’t work. A ripple of rage quakes through him.
“When I stood from the table and told him I would not eat my pet’s mother, he threatened to murder Wail if I didn’t eat the meat. With tears in my eyes, I choked down that bird. Mom had mentally checked out, staring at her plate and not touching the meat she’d prepared.” His voice cracks which causes tears to well in my eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
He swallows. “When I finished, I went back to my room. I’d felt so guilty and wanted to apologize to my bird but…”
My heart pounds in my chest. “What?”
“He wasn’t there,” he chokes out. “Wail was gone.”
A tear leaks out of my eye and I sit up. My palm strokes his stubbly cheek. “Where did he go?”
His eyes are hard when they meet mine. “My father said my bird stunk up our house. He killed my bird. Dad plucked the feathers and cleaned his carcass. Handed it to my mother and made her cook it up.”
“No…”
“She didn’t know,” he murmurs. “Always doing what he asked of her. But I didn’t eat Wail’s mom. I ate Wail.”
I press a kiss to his mouth. Soft kisses. Comforting kisses. Over and over again because I don’t want him to think about his asshole father. He’s still at first, but when I straddle him to kiss him harder, he parts his mouth to meet my tongue with his. His fingers spear into my hair to guide our kiss.
A moan escapes me when his hard cock rubs against my ass. When he reaches between us, I lift my body and let him guide himself into me again. My body aches from all the sex we’ve had, but this feels different. Not just fucking. Something else. I slide up and down on his thick length as my gaze meets his. Sadness lingers in his eyes, but the hunger he always seems to have for me slides into the forefront. His strong fingers find my hips. He grips them almost to the point of pain as he lifts his hips to drive into me.
“Gray,” I moan as my head tilts back. One of his hands slips to my breast while the other begins massaging my clit. I ride him wildly until an orgasm is rippling through me, causing every muscle in me to spasm. I’m trying to find the sense to slide off of him before he comes, but then he’s gripping my hips again. With hard, measured thrusts, he seeks out his own climax. And with a groan on his end, I feel his heat surge into me.
Fuck.
Why am I so careless with him?
He yanks me to him, and I fall hard against his chest. Our heartbeats are thundering against one another through our chests. His fingers tangle in my hair as he whispers sweet nothings against the shell of my ear through my messy hair.
You’re mine.
I want you forever.
Let me keep you.
Mine.
Let me love you.
Forever.
The words are intense and spoken quickly, but I drink them up. I greedily take them all as though I have no self-control around men like him. They offer intensity and I devour it as if it nourishes me somehow. Vaughn fed me this same way. It’s what I’m attracted to.
This attraction was, at one time, nearly fatal.
As my eyes drift close, my thoughts drift to the night I ran and never looked back.
“THIS WAY, LETTY SPAGHETTI,” Vaughn grumbles as he drags me by my wrist down the dilapidated hallway of the apartment building we came to.
I tug at the short hem of my dress but it’s so tight it hardly moves. I settle for fingering my pearls that belonged to Momma in a nervous manner. Vaughn and I have been playing this game for months. The sane part of my brain that survives when the pills wear off tells me I’m a prostitute. This is not my boyfriend. He’s my pimp. But prostitutes get paid, don’t they? What does it make me if he forces me to have sex and I see nothing in return?
A slave.
It makes me his damn sex slave.
Anger begins to bubble up inside me. Earlier when he shoved the pill into my mouth, I tucked it into the side of my mouth between my teeth and cheek. He’s so used to me swallowing without complaint that when he looked, he didn’t really look. Just a simple glance. I managed to pull it out on the walk down to the car and tossed it into the bushes.
My brain is clear.
My heart is angry.
My soul is broken.
He stops in front of a door and knocks loudly. A large black man answers the door wearing a tight white wife beater, a beanie on his head, and a baggy pair of jeans that hang several inches off his hips showing his blue boxers.
“V, my man,” he greets in a deep voice. “I got your money, dawg.” He pulls a wad of bills rubber banded together and hands it to Vaughn.
Vaughn nods and fist bumps the guy. “I knew you were good for it, Fuzz.”
The guy named Fuzz lets his gaze roam over to me. “Your girlfriend? Damn, she fine.”
“Could be yours for the night if you got more cash,” Vaughn tells him.
Fuzz’s easygoing features harden as he steps aside to inspect me as I cower behind Vaughn. He lets out a whistle of appreciation. “Shit, V, she’s got some fine-ass legs. Her cunt tight?”
I shudder at his crude words. Normally, I’m high off my ass by the time we get to these men he sells me to. Awareness prickles through me. I wish I were fucked up right now.
“The tightest,” Vaughn brags, a lingering hint of possessiveness in his tone.
“How much?” Fuzz questions as he blatantly eye-fucks my tits.
“How much you got?”
Fuzz laughs. “You took all my money, man.”
“You got any brown left?” Vaughn asks.
“I got a gram or two,” Fuzz tells him, his gaze never leaving the way my dress hugs my tits.
“I need it.”
I swallow and gape at him. Surely
he’s not selling my body for a couple of grams of crystal meth.
“Come in, man, shit’s over there,” Fuzz says and points to the couch.
Vaughn drags me into the dingy and trashed apartment by my wrist. Terror spikes through me. I don’t like this guy Fuzz and the way he stares at me as if he wants to hurt me.
“You got twenty minutes with her,” Vaughn tells him as he sits on the lumpy sofa and reaches for the tray of drugs. “No anal.”
Fuzz lets out a whistle before grabbing me from behind. I scream when I’m lifted off the floor and carried into the bedroom. Vaughn’s laugh sends ice shooting through my veins. This is an all-time low for him. So many times he’s hurt me but this betrayal runs deep.
Once inside the bedroom that reeks of body odor, I’m shoved to the floor. Fuzz shuts the door behind him and starts ripping off his shirt. He’s giant and solid muscle. It’s the evil glint in his eyes that has me scrambling away. I’m halfway toward the window when he grabs me by my hair and hauls me over to the bed. The screams ripping from me are otherworldly as he shoves me over the edge of the stinky stained mattress. He rips my dress up over my hips exposing my bare ass to him.
“No anal,” he mimics as he begins unbuckling his pants.
Tears stream down my cheeks and I once again try to claw my way away from him. He’s strong as he presses the back of my head down against the mattress with his massive hand. I’m squirming but it doesn’t stop him from pushing his fat erection into my dry pussy. I sob and claw my fingernails into the soiled mattress but to no avail. He drives into me brutally. His grunts and moans are like alcohol in a cut, stinging me from the outside in.
“This ass is so fucking hot,” he tells me as he slams into me. “I’m going to hit it too.”
I start screaming for Vaughn. Begging him to save me. Fuzz pulls out of my pussy and begins pushing the head of his cock against my asshole. Fire burns through me from the tiny intrusion. I’m fearful for when he manages to get all the way in.
“V-Vaughn, p-please,” I sob.
Pain, excruciating and all-consuming, explodes within me when Fuzz pushes all the way into me. I black out but the fire won’t let me go. It holds me just out of reach from passing out all the way. Some sick torturous game.
