The Wolf (Billionaire Vikings Book 2)

by S. M. Maddox

  Before I’d nailed her Friday night in the office, we had this little cat and mouse game going on. More often than not, I’d catch her in the elevator in the morning. I knew that I turned her on without effort, and she had the same effect on me. With just a little smile, a little growl “Good morning, Malone,” in my deepest, most serious voice, I’d watch her body squirm in the corner of the elevator. She’d stand up a little straighter, her bottom lip would fall just a centimeter or so in surprise, and her nipples would stand at attention. She has a few spandex type dresses that really showcase them perfectly. Anytime she wore one of them on our morning lift, I’d be sure to stand just a little closer to her, making sure the fabric of my jacket causally grazed her arm as I whispered a greeting.

  As soon as she stepped off, I’d make a beeline to the nearest bathroom to rub one off with the image of her on top of me. Over and over and over, day after endless day of trying to be as professional as possible to her was beyond exhausting and frustrating. Secretly, I wanted her to take control of the situation and tie me down, literally and figuratively, and have her way with me.

  Fast forward to now, with her sitting on my lap, my dick was rock hard. She could feel it, too. When she kept talking, getting angrier with every word, her hips would occasionally swivel just to tease me. Her finger casually grazed up and down my forearms, sending my skin buzzing and my mind racing with all the places I wanted to fuck her if only she’d let me.

  “Roland?”

  Shit, I zoned out.

  “Are you still listening to me?”

  “Sorry babe, I got lost in your eyes.” She rolled her eyes, super hard. I’d like to roll my tongue over- “Ow!” A sharp pain radiated out of my nipple as I looked down to see her little fingers twisting the dear life out of it. I didn’t think she could cause actual physical pain to someone without a weapon.

  “Cut the bullshit, Roland. Me and you, we don’t do bullshit. Ever. Period. The end.” I nuzzled her shoulder, kissing her collar bone to try and pacify her. She always smelled like clean cotton and campfire spices. If she had a perfume, it’d be called ‘Sassy Cinnamon.’ Hell, that’d be her stripper name, too.

  “No bullshit, ever. And speaking of, I’m still waiting for the part where you’re stealing company time.”

  She sighed heavily, her eyes looking down in regret of what she was about to say. “I thought I turned you off, or scared you, by saying I’d kill him.”

  “Are you fucking crazy? Can you not feel how hard I am right now? Don’t think I didn’t feel your hips wiggling my dick around like you didn’t know what you were doing.” A tear rolled down her cheek as she hung her head lower.

  “Malone, look at me,” I whisperingly commanded as her fiery eyes slowly travelled back up to meet mine. I wiped her tears away with my thumb as I kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re not going to scare me. You’re not going to push me away, unless that’s what you really want. Do your worst, Jessie Malone.”

  She took another deep breath, calming the nerves I knew she must be feeling. She’d gotten herself all worked up, and probably for no reason at all.

  “Ok.”

  “Ok.”

  “Ok, so. Remember how Jack’s letter said I should come here and find the Andersen’s?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well,” she paused for dramatic effect, “I found you.”

  “Ok, obviously. And?”

  “And I didn’t mean to. Not right off the bat, anyway. I’d heard about Assiduous. Practically everyone in Connecticut has. When I was a journalist, I’d saved up some money to make a trip down here. I wanted to interview you, the famous Roland Andersen. Maybe feature you in a news story or something. It was a random, loose idea, really, but I saved the money, nonetheless. By the time I figured out the whole e-mail thing, I was getting taunted regularly.”

  “Taunted how?” My body grew rigid. That part I had no clue about.

  “It started with dog poop on my front porch. You know, stupid kid stuff. I didn’t think anything about it at first. But it got worse. I’d come home and my flower beds would be all ripped up, or there’d be bags of manure poured out all over my porch. Just nasty stuff. Then I started getting notes in my mail box, those letters written with magazine clippings like serial killers do you know?”

  “What’d they say?”

  “It’d be a list of specific places and the times I’d been there, down to the minute. Someone wanted me to know how much of an effort they were putting into stalking me. They wanted me to know they were watching my every move.

  “Of course that freaked me out, so stupidly I moved to a different address, thinking that’d throw them off. But then things only got worse. That seemed to make them angry, the fact that I had the balls to try and run. Every morning at 3 a.m. someone would walk around my house, beating on my windows randomly.

  “Otis was always in a tizzy when it happened. He’d start growling at random shadows throughout the night, thinking it was someone trying to break in. He never left my side, my faithful sidekick.

  “A week before we moved here, someone broke in and stole all of my notes. Everything I had put together, that Jack had put together. I hadn’t yet made copies of my notes, but I knew I had my Hawkmail account safe and sound. The last night before we moved, they lit my mailbox on fire. Like I said, taunting. He could’ve just killed me if he’d wanted to, but I guess it was more fun to torture me.

  “Nothing has happened since we moved here, but I can’t shake the feeling that someone is still watching me. Ever so often, I’ll get this creepy feeling that someone is around the corner, or someone is staring at me from a distance.”

  “Whenever you feel like that in the office, it’s 100% me.”

  “I’m serious. I have this sense of impending doom, like something is fixing to happen at any given moment.”

  “You don’t feel safe here?”

  “Honestly? Your being here is the safest I’ve felt in almost two years.”

  I pulled her closer to my body, my erect dick snuggling between her hip and my stomach. Dick action or not, I was glad she was finally opening up to me.

  The realization finally dawned on me. “Fuck,” I cursed silently. This is what my bros meant by being pussy whipped. I was officially a caught man. For real, for real.

  Jessie’s sad eyes looked over at mine, questioningly. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, babe.”

  A shadow fell across her face. “You’re mad at me.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes you are, I can tell.”

  “You fucking can’t tell. Mad is the furthest thing from my mind right now while my dick is staring up at me, begging to be shoved into your soft, round ass. I’m desperately trying to concentrate on being supportive, here, Malone. Throw me a bone.”

  “Maybe we should humor him a little bit, then.” Malone slowly eased up from my lap, turning her back to me while rolling her underwear off just enough. She seductively raised her ass, allowing me the full, luscious view as she descended onto my cock. She slowly started to gyrate as her head fell backwards against my shoulder, her mouth falling open in pleasure. My hands reached up and grabbed her tits, pulling her body into mine as she continued to taunt me. She was so warm and wet, all the time. How the fuck could anybody be this wet all the time? Maybe she wasn’t kidding when she’d said she couldn’t even look at me.

  Malone moved her hips around me as I clung to her chest for dear life. “Still trying to…. Concentrate… Malone…” I growled into her neck while her hands travelled down to my thighs to hold on for dear life.

  “As I was saying,” she breathed raspily, “I found you on accident. I’d decided I’d have one night of wild, passionate sex to settle my nerves before I went to Andersen Brothers to apply for a job. I was going to make you hire me.”

  “Settle your nerves on me aaannnyytime.” Fucking hell, it was nearly impossible to concentrate but I was trying hard to focus. I sensed this was the part where sh
e was going to reveal her deep dark secret.

  “I’ve mentioned that you check all of my boxes, yes?”

  “What?”

  “That invisible list that all women have. Physically, emotionally, aggressively, sexually, you’re my list. Every single box. The minute I saw you, I knew you were my perfect list. I wanted to dominate you.”

  “Mission accomplished.”

  “Are you listening to me?”

  “Babe, I’m trying really hard to, I promise you, but you’re a literal cock tease and the best definition of lap dance I’ve ever known.” I bit the back of her neck while she taunted me.

  “I knew Roland Andersen owned Assiduous, but I didn’t know you were Roland Andersen. I wanted, needed, to build my case back up, to earn your trust first before I approached you for help. I need your help to bring the motherfuckers down. I didn’t mean to fall for you...”

  She stopped moving, pressing her sobbing face against my temple as I rubbed her hard nipples between my thumbs and forefingers.

  “I didn’t want you to think I was just using you.” She grew quiet, waiting for me to respond while my dick was achingly throbbing inside of her.

  “I’m guessing from your silence that that’s your big secret reveal? You thought I’d think less of you?” Her small arms and hands wrapped themselves around my much larger ones.

  “Don’t you? Everyone uses you for your money and name. I didn’t want to be just another one. I wanted to earn your help, not fuck you for it.”

  I reared up, throwing her onto all fours as my head rolled back into a deep, throaty, maniacal laughter. I knelt on my knees behind her, “Malone, you honestly don’t know what you fucking do to me?” She slowly pulled her shirt up with one hand, revealing yet again the image of her perfectly round ass framing her sacred area, mine for the taking. She was still bright pink and swollen, dripping from where we’d just left off. I ran the head of my cock up and down her slit, harder in the places I knew would make her moan for me.

  Jessie slowly inched her torso down, forming an acute triangle with her body. Her palms spread out to her sides, bracing herself as I inserted inch by inch into her wetness. Her wild mane fell in a circle around her shoulders, like her whole head was on fire. She pushed it to the side, so I could see part of her face. Her eyes were darkened with the want that only we understood, her mouth slightly open and panting in anticipation for what I was about to do to her. Steadily. I thrust in and out repeatedly, harder and harder as she moaned my name.

  Her juices rushed out as she came, coating my balls in warmth as I collapsed beside her, completely spent. She turned over to me, draping her leg across my thighs as she nuzzled into my neck.

  “Woman, I need a high protein diet to keep this up.”

  “How’re you feeling, Roland?”

  “For once in my life, not horny. At least for a minute.”

  “You know what I mean. About me. How do you feel about me now that you know?” She asked delicately, as she twisted her fingers through my dark chest hair.

  “I feel pretty damn good about you, in you, on top of you, underneath you. There’s no way that you don’t make me feel good, Malone.”

  Jessie punched my ribs, making me laugh. Her fist felt like someone tickling me with a feather.

  “Please, could you just be serious for once? I used you. I didn’t mean to, but I did, and I feel awful about it. How do you feel about me now that you know? Can you ever forgive me?”

  “I feel like this is horseshit. Your dramatic antics are horseshit, and you need to stop.”

  She gasped beside me, and I could hear the sobs in her voice. “I’m- I’m- so sorry Roland.”

  “Jessie. Stop. How do I feel about you? I’m in love with you, Malone. I’m going to fucking marry you, whether you like it or not. Not today, obviously, but that’s in our future. How many women have I proposed to? 0. How many have I told them I loved them? 1, but I was a teen and that’s a story for another day. You. Are. The. One.

  “Whatever your problems are, they’re my problems, too. There’s nothing to forgive, Malone. You did nothing wrong. This whole scenario you’ve built up in your head, as far as I’m concerned, is just that. In your head. You did what you needed to do, you survived. You survived the fuck out of life and all that was thrown at you. You did exactly what your boyfriend told you to do to save yourself, which was come find me. Me, Malone.

  “Now, obviously his mistake was that he didn’t know I was sexy-as-hell, but he sent you to me if anything should happen. You wanted me immediately, unaware that I’d be your boss a few days later. Now here you are, in my arms. That’s not a coincidence to me. That’s destiny, straight up as fuck.” I flipped over on top of her, pining her to the floor with either of my forearms beside her head.

  “You want to build your life back up? You’re gonna have to include me, because I’m stuck to you like a sexy barnacle. You want to use my resources to win my trust and approval? Done.

  “Malone, you’re so fucking adorable I just can’t stand it sometimes. You need protection? Baby, I’ll protect the hell out of you. So will my family. You want my heart? I’ll rip it out right here, right now, and give it to you. As far as being mad at you for any of the above information, you’re crazy as a fucking Betsy bug.”

  “I’m not crazy.”

  “Bloody fuck, is that all you heard out of my whole heart pouring speech?”

  “No,” Jessie purred as she wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled my lips down to meet her. “I also heard your stomach growling.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jessie

  I woke up in my bed, fresh off a dream of my Hollywood dream-list man mowing the front yard naked. His cute, seductive ass pushing the mower, the sun glittering off the sweat beaded up on his rippled, tan body. Smiling to myself, I rolled over and felt of the bedsheets. Who needs fantasy dream men when you’ve got the real thing beside you. Except Roland wasn’t. beside me I heard something in the kitchen, and decided he was cooking breakfast.

  I can’t remember a time when I was ever so thoroughly fucked in my entire life. In the good way. In the best way possible. Somehow, this weekend had turned into an entire sexcapade, full of orgasms and deep, dark secrets. What day was it even? I’m pretty sure it was Sunday, and he’d been at my house for nearly two full days. And, Roland said he loved me. He loved me.

  This time, I wasn’t going to be afraid of love. I believed him when he said he’d protect me, support me. Even more so, I wanted him completely. I’d say yes when he asked me to marry him, provided that he didn’t change his mind about officially proposing later. I wanted to have him for the rest of my life.

  Just then, I heard him cursing loudly towards the front of the house. Roland ran into my bedroom, grabbed a blanket from my chair and turned to run back out before pausing and aggressively saying, “Do. Not. Leave. This. Room.”

  Totes obvs, not gonna obey him. Did you just say ‘totes obvs’? Grow the fuck up, Jessie.

  I swung my feet around to the side of the bed and stood up. Something seemed off. I made my way through the house, noticing that the front door was standing wide open and there was a large shadow moving around in weird motions on the front porch. The closer I got, the more I noticed there was blood all over the front porch, with footsteps leading into the house. My heart sank, as I ran outside. It looked like a massacre had taken place. Blood was smeared everywhere, on the rails, on the porch, on the concrete steps.

  “No! NNNoooooo!!!!!!! Otis!!! Otis!!!”

  I collapsed in tears as Roland gently lifted him down from the rafters, freeing him from his bondage. My baby had been strung upside down on my front porch, with his throat slit. Just like Bart Collins had been. Just like Jack had been. Otis’ blood was everywhere as I collapsed into a blubbery mess, his liquid life surrounding me.

  Roland rolled him up in the blanket, careful to cover his face so I couldn’t see the terror that had been in his eyes during his final moments. His fi
nal moments…

  “My baby.. my Otis… what happened?” I sobbed into my hands, also now covered in Otis’ blood.

  Roland was far calmer and more level-headed than I as he explained. “I let him outside for just a second. He was throwing up so I let him go outside while I cleaned it up. I’m so sorry, Jess. But you need to pack your bags. Pack everything that means anything to you. You’re not safe here anymore.”

  “He had cataracts! He wasn’t supposed to go outside without me! Otis was… the only thing… I had left….” I cried as he wrapped his arms around me. I could see Otis’ little toenails sticking out of the other end of the blanket. “How… could… this... happen?”

  “Fuck Jessie, I am so sorry. I really am so sorry, you can’t know how guilty I feel. I shouldn’t have let him out. I should’ve watched him. But the fact remains, someone was watching you. Someone Otis trusted enough to let them get close to him. You need to pack your clothes now.”

  Someone Otis trusted? Jason. Fucking bastard. I’ll kill him myself.

  “I… don’t have anywhere… to go.” I started whispering to myself, counting backwards to still the tsunami inside me. “20… 19… 18…”

  I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep going through this. I’m completely alone. Jason is just torturing me for sport.

  “Yes, you do. You’re moving in with me, no arguments. Our house is the safest place in all of Fries, if not all of Connecticut. The sooner we get you out of here, the better it’ll be for everyone. Go pack. Make sure you get all of your notes and everything. Absolutely everything on this case. I swear to you Jessie, I will kill him.”

  “No, you won’t. I will.”

  Roland kissed the top of my head before scooping me up honeymoon style and carried me to the bathroom so I could wash Otis’ blood from my hands. As I watched the red swirls circle the sink, I tried to still my shaking hands. My trembling limbs were cold and clammy, my stomach twisted in knots while the rest of my body was in a mad fury.

  Fight or flight. I’d been running this whole time. Now, I had reinforcements.