by Lewis, R. J.
“You think I was getting a lap dance in here?” he growled, forcing me in front of him. His chest pressed against my back and his arm wrapped around my waist.
“What were the girls doing if not dancing, Borden?”
“Yes, they were dancing, but I wasn’t fucking them with my eyes, doll. I was talking business while you were out there getting drunk with the likes of Hawke.”
“Again, I’m not drunk,” I retorted. “And why would you have girls in the room talking business when Hector specifically said something like” – I made air quotes – “‘bitches belong outside the door and on their knees’?”
“Because Hector is a shit-stirring ass-wipe. But I see what’s happening here. You heard I was in here with the girls, and you decided to get back at me –”
“Now you’re really thinking the fucking worst of me!”
He suddenly spun me around, gripping my shoulders with both hands, forcing me against him as he looked furiously down at me. “You could have went straight to the office, could have finished out some fucking paperwork you’re behind on, instead of fucking around with my closest guards, in the arms of one of them to fucking boot –”
“I fell and he caught me.”
“I’d rather he wasn’t close enough to catch you, doll.”
“Are you saying you would have rather me hurt myself?”
“I would have rather you avoided a drink altogether.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re jealous, aren’t you? Is that what’s happening?”
He gritted his teeth, leaned his head closer to mine and seethed, “Yeah, I am fucking jealous. I can feel it everywhere, in my bloodstream, pounding inside my brain like a fucking brick to my skull – and all I keep thinking about is that fucking look on your face when he fucking caught you. I’m pissed by that fucking look, Emma. I want to bend you over this fucking couch, tear that hair out of your skull, pound my dick inside you and fucking remind you who you should be giving that look to. That’s the extent of my jealousy.”
I was too gobsmacked to respond. My heart battered inside my chest, and I grasped for words. Grasped so hard, my brain hurt. Nothing intelligent came out, except a trembling, “You shouldn’t have done that to Hawke. It wasn’t his fault. We’d just made amends and…”
“Let’s get this straight, Emma. He’s not your friend. Neither is Graeme. They will never be your friends. They’re my workers and they’re protecting you.”
“That’s not true. Graeme means a lot to us. He’s always been there.”
“He’s there because I pay him to be.”
“I don’t believe that, and I don’t believe that’s how you feel about your men, either.”
Borden’s face tightened. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not a good guy, Emma. Just because you tear me up inside, it doesn’t mean I’m soft. If either of them betray me tomorrow, I’ll put a bullet through their fucking heads. If Hawke looks at you the way he did ten minutes go, I’ll bind him to a chair and feed him his own dick. I am not a good man. Outside of you, I feel nothing for anybody.”
He didn’t give me an opportunity to question that. He let me go and stepped back. “Climb on the couch,” he then said. “Knees spread apart, chest against the cushion.”
My heart quickened. “Why?”
He cocked his head to the side, looking at me like I was an idiot. “I just told you I wanted to bend you over on the couch and fuck you.”
“You mean punish me.”
His lips pulled up in a devilish smirk, and before I could respond, he grabbed at his belt and unbuckled it, slipping it off in one swift movement. With the belt still in one hand, he used the other to grab my arm and spin me around. He shoved me toward the couch, the expectation clear in that one movement. But I didn’t climb it. I stood still, facing the couch, tentatively listening to him.
I wasn’t going to do it, I decided. I was still too angry at him, and for being told to get into a sexual position in a room that was minutes ago occupied by naked girls and him. Fuck him.
“Are you really going to make this difficult?” he asked me. “Do you want me to hurt you?”
“I want to hurt you,” I seethed, irately. “For being such a fucking asshole.”
“You’re just pissed because of the girls.”
“I’m pissed at the girls, at the way you talked to Hawke, at how much you pretend not to care for other people.”
He neared, until his front lingered neat my back. I felt my hair gather into his hand, and he tugged harshly at it. My head shot back, and his teeth grabbed at my earlobe. He bit once before letting go and whispering, “Get on the couch.”
“You can’t erase everything with fucking, Borden.”
“I’m not trying to erase anything by fucking you, Emma. I’m solidifying the fucking facts.”
“What facts?”
“That you belong to me. That you’ll never be touched by another man again. That you’re fucking mine not because I’m demanding it, but because you want to be too. And the girls, Emma? They fucking mean nothing to me. And deep inside you know that.”
Before I could reply, he pushed me down, and I went willingly. I did belong to him, in every dirty way possible. I couldn’t deny that no matter how angry I was. I heard him unzip his pants, heard his breaths come out in harsh sounds as he drew closer to me.
“Don’t fucking drink without me near you again,” he told me. “Got it?”
I nodded.
He grabbed my skirt and forced it over my hips, and then he grabbed my underwear and tore it off, throwing it somewhere nearby. His hands grabbed at my ass, kneading my flesh before delivering a harsh smack against one side. I flinched and my mouth parted. The sting felt good, especially as he began rubbing the crease down my ass and all the way to my pussy. He remarked under his breath how wet I was, how sore I was going to be, how we were going to have dinner tonight and I would have to hide the pain he’d leave me in.
I shut my eyes, savouring his words before he firmly gripped me by the hips and shoved himself inside me. There was nothing delicate about it. He fucked me hard and fast, leaning over my bent body to bite and suck at whatever exposed flesh there was of me. His strokes moved deep inside. I felt his balls slapping against me, ravaging me with every slide of his long and thick cock inside me. That magical piercing of his always added an extra spark to the mix. I squirmed as the pleasure became almost too unbearable to take, and then I exploded, the walls around him tightening as I rode out my pleasure.
He followed shortly after, coming inside of me. He didn’t remove himself from me. He remained buried within me as he wrapped his arms around me and tugged me down against the cushion of the couch. Tucking my back against his chest, he kissed me on my shoulder and said, “Like I told you, doll, it’s just you.”
Eight
Borden
Old people.
The most judgmental people of all. And now he had to endure a bloody dinner with an old battle axe that was probably going to try and tear his balls a new one. He wouldn’t blame Darlene when the time came to it. After all, he was fucking her granddaughter – thoroughly, he had to add – and he was certainly no knight in shining armour.
She’d probably witnessed the bruises on Emma’s skin. Probably frowned in disbelief at Emma’s constant lame explanations when she showed up to her house with his men in tow. Probably listened to her granddaughter defend him every time the battle axe warned her away.
In Darlene’s eyes, he was most likely an abusive stalker with severe control issues, and so good with words, he’d brainwashed her granddaughter into defending him like the good little slave she had to be to want him in the first place.
In other words, this was going to be fantastic.
He smirked at his little alley cat, sitting next to him with her face practically pressed against the window. She was alert, all fogginess from this afternoon’s time at the bar had diminished. She was dressed in this sexy little ensemble: form fitting grey
mini-dress with white tights. He would have liked the pants gone, in his opinion. Would have been glorious access to her supple little pussy, one that he hadn’t properly savoured in the club. That was an anger bang he needed to get out of his system before he did something stupid, like seriously injure Hawke. He wasn’t sorry about dismissing him. He knew a look of want when he saw it, and it was blazing out of that bearded asshole’s dark eyes. It was for his own safety that Borden told him to get the fuck out. If he’d stood around a moment longer, staring at Borden’s woman with that look, Borden would have shot him. In hindsight, he should have picked up on Hawke’s softening side toward Emma. He should have noticed the tolerance the asshole had begun to extend to her, remembered the remarks that were made about her in passing, but he’d never actually dwelled on them.
He’d take care of him later.
He continued to observe Emma. If she wasn’t currently so dejected like she was going to her death, he might have put up the divider between the front and back seat and had a taste of her. Unfortunately, with her face covered in worry lines, that wasn’t going to happen.
Because old people.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked her. “We can turn the car around any time you like, doll.”
“That would be worse,” she quietly answered.
“Not really. You can tell her I’m busy. That I have body bags that need filling.”
Emma’s eyes widened in shock. “Borden!”
“Maybe some people to torture then? You know, any one of those things she’s probably convinced I’m doing in my evil lair ten stories beneath the earth.”
“My grandmother is very old and frail, and I need you to be a gentleman.”
“Do you honestly think I have a gentlemanly bone in my body, doll?”
“Grow one because I need you to be likeable. Is that possible?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“And no fucking swearing, either!”
“I’ll leave all the swearing to your dirty little mouth, then.”
He continued to smirk at her, licking his own lips as he stared down at her nervously bitten ones. He could bite them for her. He’d take that bottom lip into his mouth and nibble it gently, until her breathing spiked and her skin warmed. As if sensing his wicked thoughts, she turned away and resumed being miserable. She clasped and unclasped her hands over and over again, and the amusement in Borden faded as he realized just how terrified she was.
“Emma,” he said softly. “It’s going to be alright.”
She glanced at him dubiously like she was waiting for the punchline. Was it so hard for her to believe he was genuine?
He slid down the leather seat and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He brought her close to him, turning her small face into his chest. She reluctantly let it happen, and when her head was buried against him, she finally wrapped her arm around his waist, holding him tightly. Like she was clinging for dear life. Borden let out a breath, surprised by her vulnerability. Fucking hell, this was a big deal after all.
She may have lost her parents, but her grandmother was her world, and he didn’t want to take that lightly. This shit needed to be handled with care, and he needed to…care.
He ran his hands through her long black hair and absently stared out into the night as Graeme began to manoeuvre past older houses. These were streets Emma walked along countless times as a child. He’d have given anything for a peek inside her life before him. To see her as a child, alone and confused. There was a twist in Borden’s chest just then. He recognized the emotion. Sympathy. He didn’t want his little firecracker to be so distressed.
“I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” he sombrely promised. “Because it matters to you, and I want to make you happy.”
She pulled away from his chest and her warm brown eyes met his.
“Serious?” she asked.
“Of course,” he answered.
She relaxed against him. “Thank you, Marcus. I’ve never asked you for a favour, but I think after all the shit you’ve pulled on me, I deserve just this little one. My grandmother is going to be hard on you, and you’re going to get angry by it, but I need you to be composed. To just…take it.”
“I can handle a little abuse.”
She eyed him carefully at that, a small smile curling her lips.
He chuckled dryly. “Don’t read too much into that. You know what I mean.”
But that smile didn’t falter.
“Emma, the abuse would have to come from you for it to be acceptable. I don’t have a thing for old ladies.”
“No?”
“No.”
She pressed soft kisses up his neck, and when she reached his ear, she did what he had done so many times before. She took his earlobe into her mouth and bit gently. He felt it all the way to his dick, and his breath thinned at her brazenness.
“You’re meant to be miserable,” he scolded as her mouth moved to his. “You’re not meant to tease. You know how I am with the teasing. You know how weak I am around you. One little look and I’ll need to fuck you.”
“I can’t help myself with you.”
“You should. Because if you do that in front of your grandmother, she’s going to be traumatized by the end of the night, and you can’t hold me responsible for my actions.”
She laughed. “You can make any shit situation bearable, you know that?”
He’d have smiled if his heart wasn’t tightening in his chest so much. He kissed her tenderly instead. He felt damn good that he had the ability to make her feel better. Emma pulled away from him just as Gerry parked along the side of the street in front of her grandmother’s house. They stepped out, and she quickly swept her hair behind her ears and ironed out her top with the palm of her hands.
The front porch light was on, and by the time they reached it, Emma had migrated a few steps away from him. He frowned at the distance she’d put between them and reached his hand out to her.
“Don’t,” he whispered to her. “We do this together.”
She didn’t realize she’d done it.
“Sorry,” she whispered ruefully, taking his hand.
He pulled her back to his side, and then he rang the doorbell. He felt her tense when the door opened not a moment later. Her grandmother stood before them, and if she hadn’t that bitter look on her face, he would have thought she was the most adorable old lady he’d ever seen with that white hair all up in a bun and cheeks that were rosy red against pale wrinkled skin.
“Come in,” she simply said, opening the door all the way, her dark eyes of hatred moving to his.
Borden didn’t react to the look – if anything, it amused him. Before he stepped in, he casually looked over his shoulder at Gerry who was still sitting in his car, and then at the other two cars that had followed and parked nearby.
His security was covered, though he would have preferred it if Graeme and Hawke were among them.
Turning back, he smiled coolly at the old lady and stepped into her home. Darlene looked between them as they walked inside. Her face was grim, but she forced a smile in place when Emma glanced at her. The moment she turned away, Darlene was assessing him, and he was ignoring every second of her deep calculated stare. She took in his casual pants and long sleeved grey shirt. His growing beard made him look harder, more intimidating, and as a result, she appeared agitated.
“Please do remove your shoes, Mr Borden,” she suddenly ordered in a hard tone.
Borden blinked once at the demand. For a fleeting moment he could see where Emma got her shitty tone from. This frail thing didn’t care how intimidated she felt. It was like staring at Emma sixty years into the future.
But it wasn’t Emma who was ordering him around, therefore he wasn’t feeling so tolerant about it. He clenched his teeth and reminded himself he was doing this for her. He managed a nod at Darlene. She turned away and headed into the kitchen, taking Emma’s hand with her in the process. Emma glanced worriedly over her shoulde
r before she disappeared, and he faked a smile. It dropped the second she rounded the corner. On a small sigh, Borden bent down and removed his shoes, laying them neatly against the cracked yellow wall beside the door. Then he followed after them.