by Hamel, B. B.
I pick up the clothes, a simple skirt and blouse, similar to something I’ve worn before…
But designer labels.
I bite my lip and laugh a little. Maybe there are going to be other perks.
I lay the clothes out on the bed then get ready. I shower and brush my teeth using the toothbrush and toothpaste I find under the sink.
When I’m finished and dressed, I stare at the door to Knox’s room. I’m so tempted to go in there…
He didn’t tell me I wasn’t allowed. But for some reason, I’m sure that would be a violation. So instead, I force myself out into the hallway and down into the kitchen.
Another note, this one propped up on the counter.
Coffee in the machine, just hit start. Travel mugs over the sink. See you soon. Knox.
That man is an angel.
I get my coffee started and idly look around the kitchen while I wait. It’s just like any other kitchen…
And I’m almost tempted to go into the basement again just to see all that priceless art. But I hold back.
When the coffee finishes, I fill a mug and head out the door. It takes me a second to remember the way to the office, but at least it’s a gorgeous fall morning as I stroll along the sidewalk.
I keep mulling over yesterday in my head. It was like a dream, but as I walk, I know it was real. I can still feel his hands on my skin, solid and intense… and the pleasure that ripped through my body.
It’s still coursing in my veins. It’s there whenever I think about him.
About Knox.
I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure he can keep me safe. Sure, he’s rich, filthy rich. But he has no clue who we’re up against…
And what I think they’re willing to do to get me.
Knox is waiting in his office for me. He smiles when I knock softly and step inside.
“How did you sleep?” he asks.
“Like a baby.” I grin and hold up the coffee mug. “Thanks for this. And for the clothes.”
“Happy to help.” His smile is tight. “Now, are you ready to work, or are you going to be too busy thinking about how easily I made you come last night?”
I blink rapidly, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks. God, this man knows exactly how to make me blush.
“I’m fine,” I say.
“Good. I have some things I need from you already waiting in your email. Get to work.”
He looks back to his computer.
For some reason, I’m disappointed. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe for him to kiss me again… maybe for him to treat me like something other than his secretary.
But that’s what I am.
I’m his secretary still, even if we also have this… other relationship.
So I go to work, even though I want him to bend me over that desk and slide his cock so deep between my legs that I don’t walk straight for weeks.
* * *
The day passes faster than I thought it would.
Part me of figured I’d be obsessing about Knox all day, thinking about his tongue between my legs, his hands on my skin, that orgasm ripping through me.
Instead, I fall into work. It’s like nothing is happening between us. Everyone else in the office is blissfully unaware, and I know I can’t exactly tell them.
As if I’d want to.
I can only imagine the rumors. People in this office can be vicious.
I think Knox likes it that way. Keeps people on their toes.
But I make it through the day unscathed. People slowly filter out around five, and by six-thirty, it’s almost empty. Knox is the only one still working, and I know I can’t go anywhere until he’s done.
Not that I have anywhere to go.
It’s strange how quickly I’ve adapted. I think I’m just used to this. Staying in that apartment was the longest I’ve been in one place in a long time, and it was almost starting to feel like home.
I’ve been on the run for as long as I can remember, ever since my father…
I force that out of my mind.
I can’t think about that right now.
“Ruby?”
The voice cuts into my thoughts. For a second, I look up, thinking it’s going to be Knox.
But it’s not Knox.
The man smiles at me, a little uncertainly. He’s wearing glasses, his light brown hair slightly disheveled. His clothes are neat and clean, a dress shirt tucked into a pair of brown slacks. A brown jacket is draped over one arm. He looks like someone’s kindly uncle or something like that.
“Yes?” I ask. “Can I help you?”
He steps closer. “You’re Ruby?” he asks.
My heart starts racing. “I, ah…” I stand up. “I don’t think you have the right building.”
“Oh, no, no, dear. I think I do.” He grins at me.
He’s missing a tooth.
I turn and try to run but he’s faster than I thought he’d be. I manage to get away from my desk and halfway out of my cube before he grabs my wrist and yanks me back hard.
I twist and stumble. He holds my wrist hard and turns it again, forcing me down onto the carpet.
My face slams onto the floor with a soft thump, like a rug being dropped onto concrete.
I groan, head swimming. I blink a little as I feel the man’s knee suddenly shove against the small of my back. He pins me down, one hand still holding my left wrist.
I struggle, but I can barely breathe. I try to scream but nothing comes out.
“Ruby, Ruby, Ruby,” the man whispers. “You should’ve changed your name. Do you know how many girls named Ruby I had to hunt down before I found you? Not that many, believe it or not.”
I struggle some more but he pushes harder. Pain lances through my ribs and I groan.
“Don’t make this a mess,” he whispers. “I really hate messes.”
I can’t see him and my heart’s racing. I can only hear his voice and feel his body pinning me down with a force like concrete. My head’s turned toward Knox’s office…
Oh my god. He’s going to kill me.
The thought hits me like a truck.
This man is going to murder me right here, right near Knox’s office. And there’s nothing I can do. Knox doesn’t know this is happening. I’m going to die…
“You father is next,” the man whispers in my ear. “But we wanted to find you first. It’s nothing personal, honestly. I wish I could let you go, but you know how these things go. You hurt the family so the family hurts you… and everyone you love.” He sighs, almost a bittersweet-sounding thing. “You’re a pretty girl. It’s a shame. I almost wish I had caught you somewhere more private. But I’d better get this over with before—”
Knox’s office door opens. I can’t tell if the man is looking or not, but I can hear his breath still.
“—we’re caught,” he finishes. “Don’t need any witnesses.”
Feet come storming out of Knox’s office. There’s no sound as they draw closer, running. I only hear the man on my back grunt in surprise as the legs slam into him.
The pressure releases. I gasp for breath, groaning, and roll into a ball on my side.
I watch as Knox pins the man down on the carpet. He slams his forehead into the man’s nose. Blood sprays him in the face.
As I lay there, body aching, heart racing, I can’t stop thinking one thing:
Knox looks so calm.
It’s almost spooky, almost terrifying.
The man struggles against Knox, pushing him back. He holds something up and there’s an enormous roar.
My ears are ringing when I realize that the guy has a gun.
I scream.
But there’s no more blood. Knox roars something and lashes out. He knocks the man back. Two more explosions rocket out from the gun as Knox stomps down onto the man’s hand and kicks the gun away.
Knox stumbles back as the man rolls and kicks out, hitting him in the back of the knees. The man gets to his feet and looks at the gun for just a mom
ent…
But he knows Knox is closer.
So he turns and runs.
Knox grabs the gun and stands, holding it out in front of him with a practiced ease. He aims at the man as he runs through the office.
But he doesn’t shoot.
He sighs, lowering the weapon. He’s covered in blood.
I get to my knees, crawling over to him, ears ringing.
He says something. I can’t hear him. He pulls me up into his arms, looking at me, checking me over.
I push him away. “You’re shot!” I say. “You’re bleeding!”
He frowns and looks down at himself. It takes him a second to realize.
Not my blood, he mouths to me.
I look at him, hands roaming his body… and he’s right.
The man missed. Three times, he missed. The blood is from the man’s broken, bleeding nose.
I throw myself into Knox’s arms. We stand there in the office, a spray of blood on the dark carpet already starting to soak into the fibers. My ears are ringing but starting to get a little bit better as his strong arms pull me tight against his chest.
He saved my life… and risked his own.
That man had a gun. He must’ve had it the whole time and Knox had to have seen it. He was going to murder me right in the middle of the office…
But Knox saved me.
I don’t know how, but he saved me.
He slowly pulls me back away from his chest and looks at me. “Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod, probing my body. Nothing hurts too badly, just some aches and pains. Nothing’s broken, at least not that I can tell.
“I’m fine,” I manage to say.
The ringing’s getting better. He takes my hand. “Come on. We have to head home.”
“What?”
“People heard that shooting. Do you want to explain to the police?”
I stare at him. “Aren’t there… cameras?”
He laughs. “No, of course not. This is corporate America. We’re way too cheap for that.”
I smile uncertainly. He squeezes my hand. “Come on.”
“Wait.” I look around before running over to my desk. I grab an old sweater from my bottom drawer and thrust it at him. “Your face.”
He hesitates before taking it. He wipes the blood off his face.
It helps. A little at least.
He frowns at the sweater before hurrying into his office. He strips off his jacket and shirt. I stare at his incredibly muscular body… at the scars that snake along his skin, paler than pale.
He glances at them but doesn’t say a word.
There’s an extra shirt hanging in a little closet behind his desk. He pulls it on.
“Come on,” he repeats, and finally we hurry out of the office. We pass downstairs and through security without incident, although people are already talking about what happened.
He squeezes my hand and smiles. “Relax,” he whispers, putting an arm around me and pulling me tight. “Nothing happened. Just walk.”
We leave the building together. Police come in past us and for a second, I think they’re going to realize that we’re getting away…
But nobody says anything.
We step out into the evening and start our walk back to his townhouse.
We don’t talk on the way. I let him keep his arm around me. Really, I push closer to him and make sure he doesn’t let me go. We walk with the crowd this time, not going too fast, not bothering to snake our way through the slower-moving people.
I think we’re both just happy to be alive right now.
Finally, we reach his house. He unlocks the door and we step inside. He closes it, locks it, and turns to me.
I think he’s about to throw me out.
I wouldn’t blame him if he did. I don’t think he thought he’d be fighting off an armed gunman the day after making this little deal.
Instead, he frowns thoughtfully.
“Take off your clothes,” he says.
I stare at him. “Excuse me?”
“Your clothes.” He nods at me. “There’s blood on them.”
I look down at myself. It takes me a second before I realize he’s right. The guy’s blood splattered on my blouse. It’s not a lot, but enough.
Slowly, I unbutton the shirt. I take it off and toss it over to him. He catches it.
“Skirt,” he says.
I obey, taking off the skirt.
I’m left in my bra and panties, standing in front of him. I’m cold but my heart’s racing.
He walks over to me. I want him to kiss me… touch me… make me feel alive.
Instead, he takes my hand and leads me upstairs.
He takes me into my room, opens the bathroom door, and starts the shower.
“Strip,” he says, barely glancing at me.
I hesitate before taking off my bra and panties. When I’m done, he looks over, a little smile on his lips.
He strips next. I stare at him, at his muscular body. He’s ripped, incredible. There are little white puckered scars all over his skin…
And then he takes off his boxer briefs and I can’t think about anything else.
His cock is enormous. He’s long and thick and hard, standing rod-straight. He smirks, one hand slowly stroking himself.
“Can’t help myself around you,” he says softly. “Get in.”
We climb into the shower together. His cock presses against my body and my heart’s racing wildly. I can barely keep myself calm. I think he’s about to fuck me… take me for the first time right here in this shower…
But instead, he takes the soap and lathers his hands.
And he washes me, fingers trailing along my skin.
He’s so gentle. His hands are firm and strong but still so gentle. He rubs the soap onto my skin, cleaning me, washing every inch of my body. His hands linger on my breasts, between my legs…
And the whole time, his enormous cock is rock hard.
Fuck, I keep thinking, over and over again, my heart hammering so hard in my throat.
When he’s done, he washes my hair and rinses it out. He kisses me softly then hands me the soap.
“Go ahead,” he whispers.
I do exactly what he did. I lather the soap then wash him down, my hands gliding over his ripped and chiseled torso. The man is sculpted and incredible and my heart’s racing as my hands move lower… lower…
Finally I take his rock-hard cock in both of my hands and stroke him. He growls, his face inches from mine.
“Finish,” he says, although I think it hurts him.
So I do what he wants. I finish washing him. I clean his back then his hair. And when I’m done, he steps out of the shower and towels himself off.
I turn off the water. He hands me my own fresh towel. I dry myself.
When I’m done, he disappears into his room before coming back dressed in loose comfortable exercise clothing. He tosses me some shorts and a t-shirt.
“Too big,” he says. “But good enough.”
I can still see the outline of his cock, half hard through his shorts.
He wants to fuck me… with that?
“Dress and come downstairs.”
Without another word, he leaves the room.
I’m left alone for the first time since it happened. My heart’s still pounding as I pull the clothes on. I have to roll the shorts and tie them tight, but they stay up at least. The shirt’s way too big, but I cinch it in the back so it’s not hanging down practically to my knees.
I sit down on the bed and gather myself. I close my eyes and think about my hands wrapped around his massive cock… slowly stroking him…
“Fuck,” I whisper out loud.
The ringing in my ears is almost entirely gone now.
I get up and leave the room. I find him downstairs, standing in the kitchen, a glass of whiskey in his hand.
Another is on the counter. I pick it up and drink it back in one swallow.
“My father was a hi
t man for a mafia,” I say before he can ask.
He simply frowns slightly. “When?”
I laugh. “I tell you my father was a hitman and you just ask when?”
He shrugs. “It seems important.”
“Twelve years ago. I was eight years old when he was arrested… when my whole world ended.”
He nods a little. “What happened?”
“I don’t know the full story.” I stare at the tile. He walks over to me and pours me another glass. I sip it gratefully. “I just remember my father being arrested, some stories in the paper. My mother told me some of it… but I read about the rest later.”
“What did he do?” Knox asks softly.
“He flipped,” I say simply. “He ratted. He sang.” I laugh, a shrill, insane sound.
I’ve never told anyone this story before.
“That’s why they want you dead?” Knox asks.
“That’s right. My father gave the FBI enough evidence to put the old boss away… but only for twelve years. I bet he thought that would be long enough.”
“It wasn’t,” Knox says simply.
“No, it wasn’t. I realized what was going to happen a few years ago. I started getting messages… warnings, I guess, or threats. Weird phone calls and emails. They just kept saying the same thing, over and over.”
“What?” he asks softly.
“I’m going to die.” I look at him in the eye. “They said they were going to kill me.”
Silence hangs thick between us.
“What happened after that?” he asks.
“My mother was checked out. Had been for a while. Addicted to pills after some botched back surgery.” I clench my jaw. “Maybe even before that, I don’t know. I knew that she wouldn’t help… so I ran away from home. I was so scared, I didn’t know what else to do. She died a couple years ago.” I choke back tears. I remember skipping her funeral, too afraid to go back. I still hate myself for that.
I know I’m ranting, but I can’t help it. “I knew this guy, good with computers… I paid him everything I had and he says he wiped my entire background. I don’t know if that’s true, but I know I had a hell of a time finding a job. I thought I could stay safe if… if I just kept moving. If I was like a ghost.”
He smiles slightly. “I noticed that. So Ruby is your real name?”
I nod once. “Yeah.”
