by Dukey, Ker
“The Big Bad Wolf? I’m supposed to be Little Red Riding Hood?”
I wink at her. “We’re roleplaying after all. I’m contractually obligated to bite you, so it kind of fits.”
“Go home, Wolf.”
“Had enough of me already, Little Red?”
“You’ve worn me out enough for one evening.”
I chuckle. “We’ll work up to it. Before long, you’ll be begging me to bite you.”
“Asshole.”
When I start to walk off, she surprises me by hugging me, her face burying against the side of my neck. I wrap my arms around her and hug her back.
“This is going to work,” I assure her, all humor gone. “I’m going to help you find what you’re looking for.”
“What if I never find it?”
I kiss the top of her head. “We’ll have fun looking. Together.”
4
“You seem different,” Wayne announces, stopping next to me at the coffee pot.
Frowning, I add another sugar cube to my mug, ignoring Judy’s judgmental eyes—our office health nut, who’s busy putting protein powder in a shake she’s mixing.
“How so?” I bite my lip, a pink tint blooming over my cheeks. Ever since the meeting with Joshua a couple days ago, something has happened to me. My body doesn’t feel like my own. It feels like I’m a slave to fantasizing about him. Every thought makes my core clench and pussy ache. He owns my reactions, the pooling in my stomach every time he flickers through my thoughts, which is more often than I’d like to admit.
“You had sex!” he blurts, making Judy miss her container and dump a scoop on the counter.
“Wayne,” I hiss, picking up my mug and marching to my office. I know he’s following, so I don’t bother closing the door.
“Spill it,” he demands, entering my office behind me.
Rolling my eyes, I take my seat and cross my arms. “Can you be more careful with your outbursts? I don’t want to be the talk of the office. I’m the boss, remember?”
“You’re also my best friend, and, girl, you’re hiding something. I know the just-fucked face, and you’re wearing it like it’s Victoria’s Secret.”
“I did not have sex. I’m just feeling better after a couple days off.” I shake my head.
His probing gaze chips away at my armor, but I hold firm, occupying myself with some mail on my desk. “Hmmm, I’m going to drop it for now, but if I find out you’re holding out on me, I’m telling Luke.”
“Rat.” I smirk, waving him away.
Luke, will have my life if he thinks I’m seeing someone without telling him. But I’m not dating. Joshua is a business transaction, not someone I’m romantic with and can gossip about. I have to be more aware of my transparency from here on out.
I’m shown straight into Mr. Hayes’ office when I arrive for our marketing proposal meeting. My stomach flips, like it usually does when I’m about to present to a new client.
His office is more like an apartment. Shelves line the walls, showcasing various awards, records, and memorabilia. His desk expands over twice the size of my own. Plush rugs cocoon my feet, making me grateful for going with a flat shoe.
“Thank you for bumping our meeting up a day. I have some events I need to attend tomorrow that came up last minute,” Ronan Hayes tells me, gesturing for me to take the seat opposite his desk.
“Not a problem. I’m happy to be here. I worked on this plan myself and think you will be satisfied.”
He remains impassive as he reaches out and takes the folder from me. Typically, I’d have a whole presentation room and monitors to pitch my marketing plan, but Mr. Hayes changed our meeting to his office, and a day earlier than planned. I assumed we were being tested. Can our firm pull it together when necessary? Be flexible with the ever-changing tide of a musical artist? However, now I think it’s just that his schedule is unpredictable. I can’t help but admire his beautiful face while I watch him take the USB stick attached to the file and upload it to his computer. He has a similar vibe to Joshua—the same style and dominating presence.
“With Berlin Scandal bringing out more mature music, I think we should be marketing to a wider audience. Raise the age of the people we’re advertising to, get them to want to attend the concerts, and make it clear they’re not just for teenagers,” I tell him, squirming a little when he doesn’t say anything.
He spends a few minutes perusing through the files on his computer, nodding a few times. I can only hope he likes what he sees. I’m good at what I do—really good—but that doesn’t always mean I’m a perfect fit for everyone.
Leaning back into his chair, he stares at me for a silent beat, then smiles, and it’s breathtaking. The entire room brightens.
“I love it. Let’s move forward,” he says, slapping a hand on the file. Getting to his feet, he rounds the desk and sits his ass on the lip. “This is why I wanted an independent company. Passion and commitment are always paramount with a self-built business, small but with the resources of a big firm.” He grins, holding out a hand for me to shake. I let his palm engulf mine and mimic his grin.
“Thank you, Mr. Hayes. You won’t regret it.”
Dropping my hand, he nods. “I’ll have the contract drawn up and sent over this afternoon. Again, thank you for coming in today.”
My thoughts splinter at the mention of a contract. Joshua floods my mind, making my skin heat.
“I hope everything goes well with your event,” I tell him, gathering my bag and leaving his office in a hurry. I’m almost through reception and out the door when I collide with a broad chest. Stumbling back, I open my mouth to apologize, but all saliva vacates and heads south. Did I summon him with my thoughts?
Joshua Tuck.
“Careful. You nearly went through me.” He chuckles, and the deep sound hums through my body, making me bite my lip.
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head, embarrassment pinking my cheeks.
His brow furrows as he looks around at our surroundings, then he flashes me a teasing smirk. “Are you stalking me?”
I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I find myself saying, “Not very stealthily. I could do better.”
Fire blazes in his blue eyes, making them spark. “That sounds like a challenge. Are you sure you’re ready for the big leagues?” My heart skips a beat when he closes in, his masculine scent washing over me. “You’re playing with the wolves now, Little Red.”
“Don’t mistake me for Little Red. I’m the huntsman.” I grin and push past him, willing myself with every ounce of self-restraint not to look back to see if he’s watching my exit.
I don’t have to. I sense his gaze on my ass, penetrating through my layers and anchoring himself to me.
Everything about this feels dangerous.
And exhilarating.
I am in control.
I’m invincible tonight, and I like it. I slip through the crowd of bodies like a seductive smoke. Everyone at Hush is on fire for what the night will bring. The pleasures, fantasies, desires fulfilled. The atmosphere is electric, static coursing through the room, infecting everyone it comes into contact with.
I shouldn’t have come. I wasn’t invited. But the interaction with Joshua at Harose today gave me a confidence and energy I haven’t felt in a long time, and I refuse to let the sensation fizzle out. I’m embracing it and being bold for once.
I know his eyes are on me, watching like a predator ready to strike from across the room. I’m not sure if he’s teasing me or I’m the one teasing, but it’s like he’s lit a match within me to feel the heat against his flesh, test the flame. What he doesn’t know, and I’m only just realizing, is I like playing with fire. I won’t be the first to burn.
5
Oh, Little Red, you only wish you were the Big Bad Wolf.
I smirk as she prowls through the crowd, a hungry glint flashing over her features. She wants this. So bad, she can taste it. I’m loving her confidence and hope we can grow it with time. She�
�s already a far cry from the trembling girl I first noticed the night she came to see me.
But I’m not here to make her feel safe and good about herself. I’m here to push her boundaries—to teach her how to take back the control others once stole from her. For that reason alone, I evade her. We’re not a couple. She’s not my girlfriend expecting a kiss and a greeting.
She’s my friend.
My friend with really fucked-up benefits.
And we’re bound by contract.
Little Red craves to be hunted.
So, I hunt.
Hush is pulsing with people and music and a dangerous vibe. I can feel it in my blood, in my nerve endings, all the way down to my toes. The crackle of anticipation deafens me, numbing me to the music and laughter and club sounds.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
All I can hear is the steady beat of my heart like a war drum as I track her through the crowd. She’s lost her momentary arrogance, chewing on her bottom lip with uncertainty. It’s clear she thinks the game is paused. Or I’m not playing. This is my club after all. It’s probably safe to assume I could be working.
Pressing my back against a shadowed wall, I force her to feel my presence with my weighted stare. I project my intensity her way—make her feel all the things I crave to do to her. She bristles with awareness. Her head darts left, right, then left again. Big green eyes search each person, looking for me.
Not so easy, Little Red.
Nothing in life ever is.
She speaks to a one of my bartenders, and an unfamiliar protective urge swells inside me. He’s taller than her and much broader. I don’t like how he stands so close. I’m about to emerge from the shadows to intervene, unsure what to make of my feelings, when I see him point down the hallway. She nods, then she heads that way.
I prowl after her, discreetly trailing in her wake. Despite all the club smells—sweat, alcohol, lingering sex—I can smell her. It’s as if I really can track her by scent alone. I know it’s all psychological, but try telling my dick that as it leads the way, half hard and eager to play.
I catch a glimpse of her as she dips into the ladies’ room. If I had to guess, she’ll come to my office next. Quickly, I make my way there, punch in the code, then press inside. Leaving the lights off, I prop the door open, then slip back out. There are people milling about in the hall, too in tune with one another to focus on what I’m doing. I pull back until I’m standing behind three people beside a statue. It’s shadowed. I easily blend in.
I wait.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Come out, come out wherever you are, Little Red.
As though summoned by my silent pleading, the ladies’ room door opens, and she steps out. I take a moment to admire her. This evening, she’s dolled herself up. A knee-length black dress that hugs her curves in all the right places. Black heels make her seem taller than normal, statuesque even. Her brown hair hangs in loose waves. She’s applied more lipstick, her dick-sucking lips beckoning for me.
Soon.
For now, I wait.
Her head darts to the left, then the right before she peers curiously into the dark office. She hugs her purse tighter to her as she steps closer.
Almost there, Little Red.
Step into my trap.
She knows it’s a trap. Can sense it. She squints into the darkness, still hunting for me. Step by step, she makes her way closer. Her body remains in the doorway, cautious and unsure.
As soon as she’s out of sight, I stalk her way, getting a glimpse of her shadowed form as she walks farther into my office. Quietly, I kick the doorstop out of the way and the door closes shut on its own behind me.
A gasp.
Soft and quiet, but there.
The club sounds are muffled. The ones inside the office become loud and obvious. The clicking of her heels on the wood floors. Her heavy breathing. A tiny whimper that’s barely audible. I home in on it.
The clacking of her retreat, then an “oof” as she hits my desk. My steps are stealthy and inaudible.
“Joshua?” The fear in her voice is almost enough to have me flicking on a light and pulling her to me.
Almost.
I pounce on her, pressing my body against hers. My palm finds her throat, silencing her strangled cry of terror. I bring my lips to her ear as I tighten my grip. “You have a safe word. Use it, Little Red.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows. I loosen my hand slightly. “Don’t hurt me.” The tone of her voice is challenging. An act. No safe word in play here.
“I’ll fucking hurt you if I want to,” I threaten, nudging my thigh between hers.
She gasps, her fingernails digging into my wrist. “Joshua.”
“I’ll start here,” I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to the skin just below her ear. I nip at the flesh with my teeth hard enough to make her whimper. “I won’t sit here and beg you to use your word. You know it. Use it if you want. Or don’t. I don’t fucking care.”
My palm finds her thigh, and I roughly pull her dress up. She squirms against my demanding touch, but doesn’t end it. I smack her outer thigh on her bare skin hard enough to make it sting.
“All this is mine,” I grind out, then suck on her neck hard enough to leave my mark. “There’s nothing you can do about it either. I’m going to take from you, Little Red. Take and take and take, until there’s nothing left.” I slide my palm under her dress to grab her ass over her panties. With a hard yank, I pull her against my thigh. “I bet your cunt is dripping with the need to be taken. You’re a dirty, needy slut, aren’t you?”
“No,” she bites out. “I don’t want this.”
We both know she lies. The whimpers. The way she rubs against my thigh. The heavy breathing. No safe word.
“You’re a liar,” I growl. “A beautiful liar with a wet pussy. You’re a whore for danger. You need help.”
She moans, getting off on my humiliation.
I release her ass to swipe a hand out behind her, making sure there’s nothing on my desk. Then, I push her down onto it. She can’t see me, and I can’t see her. We’re animals, reacting to instinct. I can taste her without my tongue and teeth on her. She lives inside my lungs. Her body desperately needs mine.
“I’m going to flip you over and fuck you from behind,” I threaten, ratcheting up her fear. Of course I don’t. Instead, I grab her wrists and bind them with one hand above her head. She struggles against my hold, but I’m stronger. “I’m going to do horrible things to you.”
I shove her thighs to each side and step between them. A garbled plea escapes her when I push her dress up over her hips. We both let out a groan when my fingers tease over her damp panties.
“I told you,” I rumble. “I fucking told you.”
“Oh God,” she cries out when my hand roughly pushes into her panties. I dive my fingers through her slick pussy lips, seeking out her wet hole. My two fingers easily part her flesh, proving to her just how turned on she is. The only sounds are the slippery ones of my fingers fucking her and the rattled breaths escaping her. My dick aches, desperate to replace my fingers and fuck her.
“You’re going to come,” I threaten, making my voice come out harsh and demanding, “or I’ll fucking kill you.”
I wait for the word.
Hush.
Say it, Little Red.
“Please don’t kill me,” she whimpers.
I fuck her tight cunt with my fingers, bringing her nearer and nearer to ecstasy with each brush against her g-spot. Her body writhes and thrashes, her hands trying and failing to break free from my hold. I rub my thumb over her clit as I intensify my efforts. With a strangled scream, she detonates. Like a bomb. A beautiful explosion. Brilliant and awe-inspiring. I wish it weren’t pitch dark so I could see the color of her skin, the flutter of her lashes against her cheeks, the part of her plump lips.
As soon as she comes down, I pull my fingers from her pussy, bring them to my lips, and make a great, loud show of sucking her juices off me.
She tastes good, and I groan to let her know just that.
Dragging my wet fingers over her lips, I make her taste the remnants of her pleasure mixed with my saliva that probably has a lingering hint of whisky. Our scents together are intoxicating. I brush her lips until they’re wet, then replace my fingers with my mouth. Her lips part, allowing me entry. My tongue is demanding as I taste her. I like having her sprawled out over my desk with her thighs spread. Her wet panties are no doubt soaking the front of my slacks, but I don’t give a fuck. I want to wear her desire on me. With her wrists still bound by my hand, she’s trapped like she should be. I tighten my grip, reminding her I’m the one physically calling the shots.
I nip at her bottom lip and breathe against her. “When I fuck you, it’s going to make you cry.”
Her back arches, making her tits press into my chest. “I’m not fucking you, you monster,” she lies, her words coming out as a hiss.
I lick her bottom lip and grind my dick against her pussy. “You’ll do whatever I tell you to do because you can’t get away. You’re trapped, Little Red. Mine.”
I steal another long, hard kiss as I rub against her with my cock. It’s easy to play her body because it’s so damn receptive to me. Her tiny breaths of pleasure and whines of need teach me more easily than her words ever could. I fuck her with our clothes on, and it feels nearly as good. If I keep at it, I’ll nut in my pants. As much as I want to do this until I come, I refrain and pull away, releasing her.
“What are we doing now?” she whispers.
“I’m going to work,” I tell her. “And you’re going home.”
I grab both her wrists once more and pin them to the table on either side of her head. Her pulse jumps wildly beneath my thumbs.
“If you don’t go home now, Quinn,” I warn her, “I’m going to fuck you. And honestly, we both know it’s not the time.”
“Okay,” she admits, her voice shaking.
“I like the way you taste.” I can’t help but smile in the dark.
