by M. S. Parker
Her lips parted as if she was going to say something, but the elevator made a faint chime, interrupting.
We both stepped away. I took a shuddering breath as I moved into my office. Just before I closed the door, she slid me a look.
It was heated and full of promise.
Fuck. How was I supposed to concentrate when she was looking at me like that?
Closing the door, I strode to my desk, forcing myself to focus on the asshole I had to talk to. I pushed a button as I sat down and looked at the security feed going into my computer, including the monitor in the outer office, where Mitchell Pence was moving toward Aleena with a predatory look in his eyes.
I’d intended to stay quiet and let Aleena bring him in rather than me going out to get him, but I was flexible. Depressing the intercom, I kept my eyes on his face as I barked, “Aleena, has my ten-thirty shown up yet? This tardiness is unacceptable.”
Pence jerked to a stop and he spun away from Aleena. He made a slashing motion at her, drawing a hand across his throat. I knew what he meant, but there was still an air of menace to it that made my hands curl into fists. I wanted nothing more than the opportunity to hear his sniveling nose crunching under my knuckles.
“One moment, sir,” Aleena’s voice said through the intercom. She sounded calm and cool, but I could see the tension on the monitor.
Take your time. I hit the control that allowed me to hear the conversations out in the office. We didn’t have sound everywhere, but in my waiting room, I did. Amber had made sure of it since she was usually the one out there. Aleena only filled in when Amber wasn’t available. Like now.
Pence hissed, “Tell him my driver was late. A wreck in front of my hotel. Unavoidable. I called and left a message.”
“I don’t have a message, Mr. Pence.”
His eyes narrowed. “You will tell him I left a message. I don’t give a fuck if you have it or not.”
I couldn’t see Aleena’s face, but I didn’t need to. I heard the reproach in her voice. “Perhaps you should give him the message, Mr. Pence. I’ll let him know you’re here.” Before he could say anything else, Aleena hit the button. “Mr. Snow? Your appointment is here. He wanted me to tell you about a wreck. In front of his hotel.”
I grunted. “Bring him back, please. Thank you.” Instead of shutting down the security feed, I split the screen and brought up the news. He’d asked for a room at the Waldorf. A wreck there may or may not make the news, depending on how big of a wreck it was, but hey, I could at least pretend to look.
Aleena opened the door. Pence stood a little too close behind her. Aleena quickly stepped out of his way, but he still managed to brush into her as he came inside. “Thanks, sugar,” he said, his voice jovial.
“Ms. Davison.”
She arched a brow. “Yes, Mr. Snow?”
I shook my head at her and then glared at Mitchell Pence.
He came striding toward me, hand outstretched. Roughly five feet away, he realized something was wrong and he slowed. “Good morning, Dominic.”
It took all my control to keep my tone even half-way civil. “Her name, Mitchell, is Ms. Davison. Not sugar. Not sweetheart. Not honey. Not even Aleena. You will call her Ms. Davison. Period.”
Slowly, the smile faded from his face and he lowered his hand to his side. He glanced over at Aleena and then back at me. He tried for the kind of smile that I’d seen men like him give when they were caught. “Look, Dominic. I think I know where this is coming from. I know I had a few too many last week and I’d be happy to apologize—”
“Good.” I sat down behind my desk and gestured toward Aleena, letting her know she could go. “I’ll have her work email address forwarded on to you. A formal letter of apology for your sexist, racist remarks would go a long way in convincing me that you understand my obvious concerns. Please be sure to copy the email to me so I can make sure it gets into your file.” I gave him a thin smile. “It will smooth things over on your transfer here.”
Pence gaped at me.
“Now, let’s discuss your job des—”
The shock subsided and he leaned forwarded, hands braced on my desk. “Wait a minute.”
Head cocked, I asked, “I’m sorry. Was I unclear? I can have Amber come in to dictate and send the notes to your email, if you wish.”
“I don’t want anybody dictating something to me.” He bit off each word, his eyes narrow. He had the sort of tan that came from a tanning bed, artificial and almost painstakingly perfect. There were faint, pale lines around his eyes from where the protective lenses sat when he lay on the bed. I wondered if he’d had a hair transplant too. I seemed to remember him having a slight bald spot in one of the company’s pictures.
Hands braced on the desk, he leaned in. “Are you really expecting me to write that girl a fucking letter? Because I responded when she flirted with me?”
So that’s how you’re going to play it. Pushing back from the desk, I folded my hands on my lap and said, “That is how a formal apology usually goes. You write a letter. The one you offended reads it. It’s done.”
“Look, Snow—”
“Mr. Snow.” I snapped back and pointed at a seat. When he went to snarl, I held up a hand. He sat down. “Before we get off track, I assume you received the information I sent you last night?”
He made a dismissive gesture. “Yeah. What of it?”
“You read it?”
Pence crossed his arms, looking more like a petulant child than a grown man. “Sure.”
“Good. Then you’ll know sexism, racism, anything that demeans any human being because of their race, sex, class, sexual preference…none of that is tolerated here, and is grounds for immediate termination, regardless of any deals or contracts.” I gave him a moment for that to sink in. “Since you and Aleena started off on the wrong foot, it will be best to smooth things out so your transfer here goes smoothly.” I paused and then smiled at him. “You do want it to go smoothly, I assume. Unless you want to return and work under Miriam Beckham?”
A vein pulsed in his temple. “I want to be where the action is, Mr. Snow.”
“Then let’s get to work.”
I gave him a week.
***
He didn’t make it two hours.
Aleena had one hand on my arm, as if to hold me back, although it wasn’t necessary. I was done.
Mitchell Pence was on the floor, gagging, curled up in the fetal position and cradling his balls.
You must suck cock really well. You’ve got Snow twisted—
I’d heard that much come out of his mouth before Aleena had shoved him back and told him to get away from her. If she’d looked at me the way she’d been looking at him, I’d have been running for the door.
Not him. He’d grabbed her arm and I’d seen red.
My brain had somehow managed to function even when some primal part of me had been processing along the basest level, because while I was imagining ripping his dick off and choking him with it, I’d heard myself calmly telling him to gather his things. Security would escort him out.
He’d pushed me. Not physically, but with a few remarks I’d assumed he’d thought were sly and clever.
I’d just smiled at him and pushed back, mentioned a few things I’d heard here and there regarding his sexual prowess...or lack thereof.
He’d hit me and I’d laughed, saying that must’ve meant the rumors were true.
He’d hit me again and that was when I’d let myself drive my fist into his mouth. Blood spurted and I was pretty sure I felt a few teeth crack. Even as he reeled back, I’d caught his tie and stopped him, jerked him close and did my best to shove my knee into his chest cavity via his groin. I didn’t usually hit below the belt. Most men wouldn’t. After what Aleena had told me about her conversation with Miriam Beckman’s husband regarding Mitchell, I figured Pence deserved it.
He was still twitching and shuddering, making odd little noises.
“Come on,” I said. “Get up.”
“Dominic, love,” Aleena said softly. “It’s enough.”
Her voice pulled me back and when I looked down at her, I realized my hands were shaking. She squeezed my arm as the doors to the elevators slid open and security stepped out. I watched Amber and Aleena share a look as Aleena dropped her hand. She didn’t move away from me though. Amber stepped towards the security guards as Aleena spoke.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, Mr. Snow.”
Her words didn’t make any sense until I felt her guiding me back towards my office. I went with her, trying to tie down the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. Once inside, she shut the door and went to my private bathroom. A few moments later, she came out with a wet paper towel and reached for my hand. She began to wipe the blood from my bruised knuckles, the touch of her skin burning my already overheated flesh.
I needed.
I reached for her and she made no move to stop me as I picked her up. Her legs went around my waist as I leaned her back against the door. I pushed up her skirt as she fumbled with the front of my pants. I was so hard it hurt.
I needed.
I pushed aside the crotch of her panties and had just enough presence of mind to meet her eyes. She nodded and I drove into her.
She made a low noise, her body shaking with the effort to stay quiet.
Staring into her eyes, I covered her mouth with my hand and watched, waited for her response. All she did was twist against me, her eyes closing with a slow flutter of her lashes.
I needed.
I slammed into her again.
I hadn’t had a chance to pull even a third of the way out before she was rising to meet me, her mouth moving against my palm, tongue teasing, teeth scraping.
Mine.
I couldn’t speak. Through the door, I could hear the voices of my security team talking with Amber. If I spoke, they’d hear. So I thrust into her harder and faster, telling her with every stroke what I couldn’t say out loud.
I needed.
Mine.
Over the barrier of my hand, her eyes opened, pleading in their pale green depths. I twisted my hips and angled my body until I slid directly across her clitoris. She shuddered around me.
Mine.
I needed. She needed.
That…just…like…
She came around me, wet and sweet and shaking, and I followed, emptying myself inside her, my anger draining away as I rested my forehead against hers for the few sweet seconds of oblivion our pleasure granted us.
It had only lasted a few minutes, the drama outside still playing through. A discreet knock at the door reminded me that I still had something I needed to deal with.
“Yes?” I grimaced as I pulled out. Fortunately, the paper towel Aleena had brought out for my hand was enough to clean me. She headed for the bathroom to take care of herself.
It was Amber and I had no doubt she knew we hadn’t merely been taking care of my hand. Still, she kept her voice professional. “Um. Mr. Murphy would like to know how you want him to deal with Mr. Pence?”
I considered asking if killing him and dumping the body in an alley somewhere would be an option.
Sighing, I glanced at Aleena as she came out of the bathroom. Her face was flushed, but she looked otherwise collected.
She nodded at me that she was ready and I opened the door. She followed me out, keeping a professional distance between us.
Coolly, I stared at the man who now stood cuffed between two uniformed guards, then turned my gaze to my head of security. “What are my options?”
Chapter 4
Aleena
“So it was that easy.” I stared at the wall. I rubbed my temples and murmured, “It almost feels like cheating.” I’d had a headache since Mitchell had been led out of the office, and it hadn’t let up even after we’d gotten home. I’d thought eating would help, but it hadn’t.
“It’s not cheating.” Dominic sat behind me his arms wrapped around my waist. We’d settled on the couch after a simple dinner of last night’s leftovers, my body automatically leaning into his. He made a low noise in his throat as he skimmed his lips up my neck. Then in a wry voice, he added, “And I wouldn’t call it easy.”
The bruise blooming on his cheek was still faint, but it would be live and in full color come morning. I’d given him ice at the office, but he’d taken the first blow on his cheekbone, the second on his jaw and the entire side of his face had been swollen. “I still can’t believe he hit you,” I said, shaking my head.
“Twice,” he reminded. “I let him hit me twice.”
“He still hit you and you still let him. Twice.” I sighed, confused. “Why?”
“It made sense.”
Slowly, I rubbed the base of my neck. This so wasn’t helping my headache. “Okay. Just how do you figure it made sense to let him hit you?”
He took my hand and dropped it on my lap. A moment later, his fingers were massaging my neck, then working up, under my hair, to my skull. That did help my headache.
“Because I know guys like him.” He sounded smug, but kept up the massage. “I couldn’t just outright fire him, not the way things were. He might’ve tried to sue, claiming I’d never intended to really hire him, that I just did it to seal the deal and intended to fire him for some made-up reason. He thought he had me over a barrel. But once he’d been made aware of the company policy and signed the contract agreeing to it, I had a legitimate reason once he fucked up. I knew he wouldn’t go quietly though, so I had to apply a bit more pressure. He attacked me. He got two punches in and then I defended myself. I have him on assault. That’s going to look really bad on his record. He can either let this go and I’ll be quiet about it.” He shrugged. “Or I can get ugly about it. Which one do you think is going to work out better for him in the long run?”
Good grief. I shook my head. “You know, this corporate America world? It’s a lot more cutthroat than I would have thought. And I never thought it was all cuddly bunnies.”
“I can give you cuddling if that’s what you want.” He ran a hand down my shoulders and across my stomach, then up to palm my breast. His fingers sought out my nipple and began working it to a stiff, throbbing peak.
“That…” My voice hitched. “That’s not cuddling, Dominic.”
“No.” He tugged again, sending jolts of pleasure straight through me. “But it can lead to it.”
He continued to toy with me, teasing my nipple through the thin cotton of my shirt and bra. Staring hard at the flickering television screen, I tried to focus on whatever it was we’d started watching. I couldn’t even remember. He liked to play these games, stroke me and work me to a fever pitch while we talked about work or some mundane things.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “Do you think this is going to affect things with Devoted?”
The images flickering on the screen made no sense and my breathing was beginning to sound terribly loud as he flicked the tip of his tongue against my ear.
“No.” He curved his free arm around my waist and pulled me more firmly against him. I felt his cock against the small of my back. My pussy throbbed and I started to press my thighs together to relieve some of the tension.
“Don’t.” Dominic’s voice was firm.
Groaning, I dropped my head back onto his shoulder.
He pinched my nipple hard and I gasped.
He went back to discussing business. “They shouldn’t have messed with Eddie. They knew he and I were talking. Had they left him alone, then I would have left them alone. They made their bed. Now they can lie in it. Besides, I doubt they’d want to risk looking bad for an asshole like Mitchell. I might not press charges, but enough people know what kind of ma
n he is. Word will get around.”
He began to unbutton the plain cotton shirt I’d put on when we’d gotten home. Underneath, I was still wearing the black silk bra I’d worn to work. I was no longer wearing matching panties since those had been soaked. For some reason, I’d decided not to bother with them at all when I’d traded my skirt for a pair of comfortable leggings.
I stared at his hands as he freed each button. The sight of his hands baring my skin was painfully erotic and once more, I went to cross my thighs, hoping to ease the ache building there.
“I told you, don’t.”
“Dammit, Dominic!” I put my hands on his thighs, my nails biting into his skin through his dress pants. He hadn’t changed his clothes other than removing his tie.
“I want to see your pretty tits, Aleena.” He made the comment in the same tone of voice he would have used if he’d been telling some guy behind a counter that he wanted to look at a watch. The same tone I’d heard him use at a restaurant when deciding on the red wine instead of the white.
It shouldn’t have been so fucking hot.
He skimmed his hands from my breasts down to my waist and said softly, “There’s a brunch on Sunday. For Trouver L’Amour.”
“I know.” I rolled my hips back against him. I wanted him inside me. I didn’t care that I’d had him only a few hours ago. I wanted him. Now.
“I’d like you to come.”
He could have thrown a bucket of cold water in my face and it would have had less effect. I tensed, and his hands stilled. Slowly, I started to pull away. He let me go and I rose, crossing to stand in front of the window. I needed some distance.
Shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself and stared outside. Twilight was falling over Central Park, but I couldn’t appreciate the beauty of it. An ache tried to choke me, drowning out the pleasure I’d just been experiencing.
I should’ve been happy about this, but I couldn’t be. I was still dealing with the humiliation from the last party. Hell, screw that. I was still dealing with the humiliation from dealing with his mother and Penelope on a regular basis. Dealing with Mitchell Pence.
