by Rina Kent
It’s the way she easily submits to my dominance, how she trembles in my hold, even when she’s bent on defying me.
The way her small body feels so close to mine and how her breathing hitches the moment my fingers dig into the sensitive, easily reddening skin of her throat.
“What if I keep running?” Her voice is low, so low that I barely hear it.
“I’ll keep chasing you.”
“What if I run fast and disappear? What if you can’t find me? Will you give up then?”
“I’m not who you’re running from, beautiful. I won’t slow down and I sure as fuck won’t give up. So if you feel like running, do it. Believe me, I will enjoy every second of hunting you down.”
She licks her lips and her tongue grazes my thumb. “And then what?”
“Then?”
“When you find me, when you catch me and forbid me from running anymore, what are you going to do?”
“Bend you over the nearest object and fuck that tight cunt of yours until you can no longer hold in those screams. Until I have to grab you by the throat and jam my fingers into this mouth to mute you, but guess what?”
“W-what?”
“You’ll probably never shut up, will you? You’ll just keep screaming until everyone can hear you. Until everyone knows you’re being fucked deep and raw by me.”
She’s flat out shaking now, a different type of red that’s nothing like the anger that was covering her cheeks. And my cock becomes painfully hard, so hard that I can barely contain it without adjusting my trousers.
“Wouldn’t everyone think you’re harassing me since you’re a partner and I’m just a lowly employee?”
“Am I harassing you, my little liar?”
“Maybe you are.”
“Maybe you’re too scared to admit how much you like it.”
“Maybe you’re too arrogant and think everyone will fall for your charms.”
“I don’t just think it, I believe it.”
“That’s what all arrogant jerks say.”
“I think I have enough reasons to be arrogant.”
“Like what?”
“My looks, for starters. Even you fell for it that first time in the bar.”
“That wasn’t a very studied decision. Besides, I would’ve slept with the first man who appeared. I wasn’t being picky.”
My jaw clenches so hard, I’m surprised a tendon doesn’t snap. “You would’ve slept with anyone. Interesting.”
“Yeah, so it’s not about your looks or your accent or the scent of your cologne.”
I smile. “Good to know what you liked about me.”
“I’m saying that so you have no misconceptions.”
“I don’t have those, beautiful. Do you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you would’ve slept with anyone, but you didn’t. You let me fuck you any way I wanted. You didn’t even comment on being tied up or thrown down, you took it all like the good little submissive you are.”
“I…am not.”
“If you repeat that a hundred times before you fall asleep, you might start to believe it.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She grabs the forearm of my hand that’s on her throat. “You’re not the only fish in the sea, Knox.”
“What?”
“You’re not the only one with a useful dick out there. So if I want more fun or to let go, I’ll just go to a bar and pick someone else to spend the night with.”
A muscle tics in my jaw again. My body tightens and so does my hold on her throat. She wheezes, her face reddening with the lack of air and I release her because I’m two seconds away from suffocating the fuck out of her.
“You don’t want to play that game with me, Anastasia.” My voice is eerily calm considering the fire that’s eating me from the inside out.
“Why? Because you’re the only one allowed to play games?” She tilts her head to the side. “You don’t know who you’re up against, Knox. You really, really should’ve pretended you didn’t know me, but you made it hard for both of us and started a needless game. One that I decided to play.”
“Hmm. We’re playing, then?”
“We are. And guess what the first rule is?”
“Enlighten me.”
“No fucking.”
“Today?”
“Ever.”
I chuckle, the sound dark and ominous to my own ears. I approach her and she must see the menacing look in my eyes, because her feet falter. But she does manage to stop herself before she steps back, I’ll give her that.
I tower over her tiny frame so that I’m looking down on her. She’s so small, I want to throw her over my fucking shoulder. “Let’s see how long you’ll last, because I promise that I’ll fuck those words out of you, beautiful.”
13
ANASTASIA
If there’s anything I can count on from Gwen, it’s that she’ll try to take me out for lunch every single day.
At first, I fought it and tried to come up with different excuses about how I couldn’t be outside, but she’s persistent and definitely doesn’t take no for an answer. I think that part of her determined personality is due to her father’s and Nathaniel’s influence. Growing up surrounded by powerful people can have one of two effects on you.
Either you become as powerful as they are, like my cousin, or you retreat into yourself trying to survive each day on its own, like me.
Gwen is in the middle. She’s not too out there, but she’s definitely not a recluse either.
And because of her, we’re having lunch in a huge restaurant downtown with one of her friends from college—an intern who joined the firm at the same time that she did. His name is Chris and he has long hair that reaches his nape and obviously hates suit jackets, because his is lying on the chair beside him. Along with his tie.
The clinking of utensils and a low hum of chatter echo in the air like a distorted symphony with a horrible orchestra. Not only that, but the smell of food and a mixture of perfumes make the atmosphere as suffocating as trying to breathe underwater.
Gwen is laughing at something Chris said while eating a slice of her pepperoni pizza. I, on the other hand? I keep watching the windows, the door, the servers. Even the lady sitting at the corner opposite us who’s eating on her own and observing everyone. Is she searching for me? Did they send an old lady now?
“Jane!” Gwen snaps her fingers in front of my face.
“Uh…yeah?”
She observes me with those colorful eyes that seem to be in a world all of their own. “You’re not eating or listening. Are you feeling unwell?”
If being on the verge of hyperventilating is unwell, then sure, I think I’m one stage beyond that. Maybe I’m close to having a panic attack. Otherwise, why is Gwen blurring and why the hell is that lady still looking at me?
Maybe it’s one of the men in disguise so I won’t suspect them. Maybe they’ll jump in front of me, like in my scariest nightmares, and tell me the fun is over.
“Jane?” It’s Chris who calls my name this time.
“I…I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” He runs a hand in front of my face. “You look pale.”
“And you’re trembling.” Gwen motions at my fingers that are clutching the fork and knife, and yup, they’re flat out shaking.
Is this how I’m going to be in public for the rest of my life? A pale, trembling mess who can’t get a hold of her life?
No. I already have control of my life. I’m my own person now.
“Yeah,” I say in a more assertive voice, slowly trying to erase the woman and the rest of the restaurant from my peripheral vision.
Gwen and Chris’s presence helps, because I can use them as crutches.
I feel bad for calling them that, even in my head, but I really wouldn’t have anyone to hold on to if they weren’t here.
“Did you even hear a word we said?” Gwen asks.
“Of course. Chris was taunting you about Nathaniel.”
&
nbsp; Gwen’s face turns red and she plays with her spoon on her plate. She’s really not subtle at all about anything Nathaniel. He’s eighteen years older than her and is her father’s best friend and partner. Oh, and her boss, whom she always complains about being too stern, but all of that seems null and void to her. Like none of those obstacles exist and her feelings for him make complete sense.
It’s been about two weeks since she started her internship and those feelings seem to be getting stronger every day.
And the worst part is, Nathaniel is the most stoic, aloof person I know. He’s cold to a fault and seems to be a working machine, so I’m worried that her feelings won’t be returned.
I never thought I’d worry about anyone else besides Babushka and my cousin, but Gwen is the type who jumps in front of you and gives you no choice but to become friends with her.
And the best part? She didn’t choose to be friends with just anyone, even though she could have. This cheerful, albeit a little weird, girl chose me.
Not anyone else. Me.
The knowledge of that makes me feel special in a warm, fuzzy way.
“First of all, it’s Nate. You’re the only one who calls him Nathaniel, Jane. Second of all, Chris is jealous that I’m interning with the managing partner of W&S.”
“I have nothing to be jealous about since I’m interning with the rising star of W&S, Knox. The same Knox you wanted to intern with but couldn’t.”
Gwen slams her cup on the table. “It’s not that I couldn’t. It’s that Nate was being difficult.”
“Whatever. I’m with Knox and we’re having so much fun with the Bell case while you rot in corporate law.”
She pokes him with the spoon. “No need to rub it in.”
Chris pokes her back. “I totally will. This will look so good on my law school application.”
“And so will all the large corporate cases I’m doing with Nate.”
“Boring corporate cases.”
“They’re NOT boring. Don’t you dare call anything Nate does boring or I will kill you in your sleep.”
“But they are! None of them compare to the fun I’m having with Knox. You should’ve seen the way he prepares the case, it’s so strategic and ruthless.”
“Nate is strategic and to the point. There’s no one like him, not even my dad.”
“Knox is better.”
“No, Nate is, and as proof he’s the managing partner.”
“Just because he’s older.”
“Hey!”
“I’m just saying. Knox is better.”
“No, it’s Nate.”
“Knox.”
“Nate.”
They’re both crossing their arms and glaring at each other so hard, sparks fly between them.
Both of them have a tendency to start an argument or debate that goes on for several minutes. Usually, I’d sit there, watching while sipping water.
But the subject of choice is making me all hot today. I want to jump in with Chris and take his side, but then what? Defend Knox?
Why the hell would I do that?
It’s not like he took Sandra’s case out of the goodness of his heart. It’s probably his way to reach for the glory, to be a public figure in front of the flashing cameras.
It’s been eleven days since I told him he can’t fuck me. That I’ll find a replacement.
It was a challenge, mostly empty and out of spite because he was being impossibly arrogant. But maybe he took it as real, because he hasn’t texted me to meet in the supply room since then.
He doesn’t text me, period.
Or talk to me, really.
At first, I ignored him as much as he did me. At the time, I believed it was all part of a game, a push and pull of sorts.
But there’s only been a push.
If I don’t go up to his floor for a spying session, I go a whole day without seeing him.
At some point, I became angry, I became so angry that I considered doing exactly what I threatened. To go to a bar and fuck someone. A stranger. A random person.
Maybe that would ease all the tension gathered in my chest.
But then again, I wouldn’t do something like that out of spite. It’s just wrong.
Like everything lately.
Even my “Oldies” playlist doesn’t sound the same anymore. The songs are too sad, too colorless.
And they shouldn’t be. They’re the most colorful thing in my life. The things that give me the power to push through the day, to create more systems, and just survive.
That’s what has always been my goal, right? To survive.
“Jane, you choose.” Gwen’s voice brings me back to the present and that’s when I notice that they’re both looking at me after their glaring session.
“Yeah, you choose, Jane. Isn’t Knox better?”
“Nope, it’s totally Nate. Don’t you dare choose anyone but Nate.”
I take a sip of my water to soothe the dryness in my throat and say the exact opposite of what I’m thinking, “I’ll go with Nathaniel. He’s more experienced and level-headed.”
Gwen slaps both her palms on the table. “Thank you!”
“You have terrible taste in lawyers, Jane.” Chris side-eyes me. “Both of you will eat your words when he wins Bell versus Bell.”
Gwen flips her hair back. “That’s if he wins. I heard Mathew Bell is backed by the mafia.”
I choke on my water and it snorts through my nose and splatters all over my lap.
“Jesus, Jane. Are you okay?” Chris offers me a napkin, but I’m unable to focus on it, because all I can hear are Gwen’s words.
“T-the…the what?” I stare at her with what must look like an expression from a scene in a horror movie.
“The mafia.”
“Which mafia, Gwen?” My voice is all choked up like my insides.
“Russian, I think? I don’t know for sure. I overheard Nate talking about it with Aspen the other day, not that I’m spying on them or anything. I swear I was just passing by, and fine, maybe I stayed on purpose to hear what they talk about when they’re together, but it’s not like I had any ill intention or anything. I swear on my sacred vanilla.”
Gwen’s hyper speech dims to the background and something much more nefarious pops to the surface. I think I’m going to throw up.
Or maybe choke.
Or faint.
And I can’t do that in front of Gwen and Chris or they’ll find out I’m broken. So I stand up as slowly as possible, because if I do it faster, I’m definitely going to end up on the floor.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper and turn around, heading to the bathroom.
That lady is watching me again. She has her eyes on me and it’s more intense now, more focused.
She knows me.
She knows exactly who I am, despite the glasses and the disguise and everything, and she’ll tell them. She’ll say she saw me here, that she found me, and they’ll come for me—
Stop.
You need to stop.
I suck in deep inhales of oxygen and head to the bathroom. Removing the glasses, I place them in my pocket and splash a copious amount of water on my face.
“You’re going to be fine,” I whisper at my disheveled reflection in the mirror. “They can’t find you.”
It takes me a few seconds to be able to control my breathing before I go out, slipping my glasses back on.
I slam into someone and wince.
“Watch where you’re going.”
I freeze.
Was that an accent I just heard with that voice? The same voice I’m familiar with?
Slowly, too slowly, I peek at the person I slammed into. He’s tall, broad, and wears glasses. They’re not as thick as mine and they make him look smart, camouflaging his true dangerous nature.
Kirill.
A pirate.
One of them, anyway. And he’s so powerful and cunning that no one dares to cross his path.
He’s judging me now with his ligh
t eyes that are covered by the glasses, and for a moment, I think it’s over.
For a moment, I think he’ll reach out, pluck off my fake glasses, poke out my contact lenses, and drag me back by my hair.
A man steps in front of him. He’s scrawnier, shorter, and has feminine looks, but he never fooled me. Behind that appearance hides one of the most lethal human weapons. Aleksander. Another pirate whose purpose is to guard Kirill.
He’s the one who told me to watch where I’m going, and he’s also the one who’s glaring down at me.
I’m under both their scrutiny now and I wish the earth would open up and swallow me.
I wish I’d stayed in the bathroom.
I wish I’d never come here.
Hell, at this moment, I wish I was never born.
“What are you looking at?” Aleksander asks in his not-so-deep yet threatening voice.
I can’t stop staring at them, can’t stop the shaking, the heart pounding. All of it.
This is a meltdown, isn’t it? I’m going to have it in front of them and destroy everything.
“This little insolent piece of shit…” Aleksander reaches out for me and I can see it, his hand, the violence it promises, but I can’t move. I’m unable to.
And then he’s grabbing me by the collar and lifting me up. My feet leave the ground and my throat closes with his savage grip, blocking my air.
My nails find his arm in a desperate attempt to peel him off me, but that only manages to make him tighten his choke-hold on me, bringing tears to my eyes.
Shit.
Shit.
I stare at Kirill, who’s right beside him, watching the scene without moving a muscle. As if he’s bored and his guard is providing him his daily dose of entertainment.
Aleksander shakes me so that my attention slides back to him. “You don’t look at him, you don’t cross his path. You apologize for disturbing him, or I will bury you where no one can find you.”
I’m about to call their names, to beg, but I don’t. If I do, for what purpose did I come this far? Why am I here?
Something moves in my peripheral vision and then Aleksander is forced to let me go.
I’m on the ground again, a strong hand holding me by the shoulder, and warmth I haven’t been able to forget surrounds me.