Borden (Borden #1)

by R. J. Lewis

  “Two kisses instead of one,” he finally said. “One on each side. Now.”

  Was that all? Ha! Score. Pecking him on his cheek five times a week was a ritual and impersonal. I didn’t even hesitate to do it anymore – no matter how unprofessional it was.

  I went to the side of him and bent to his cheeks. His eyes followed mine as I lowered myself, and he never did that. He never watched me kiss him. He was usually concentrating on something else, never on me.

  My chest tightened in nerves as I pressed my lips briefly on his cheek. I pulled away and slowly made my way to the other side of him since he wasn’t going to move his head. My body shook slightly and I felt a little wobbly in the knees. Why was he looking at me? I didn’t want him to look at me!

  I bent down and he continued to watch me closely when I brushed my lips against his other cheek. The scent of him and his heavy eyes on me was a heady combination that left me a little unbalanced. As I began to pull away I felt his fingers suddenly at my face. My eyes widened and my heart thumped harder before I realized what he was doing. He tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear and then brought his hand down, still watching me.

  I turned away quickly and rushed back into my chair. I kept my face turned away so that he couldn’t see how out of sorts I was.

  “Is it just going to be you and your friend?” he asked curiously.

  For some reason, I knew my answer would bother him.

  “Emma?” he pressed.

  “Um, no. It’ll be her and two others.”

  I hoped he wouldn’t press even more –

  “All women?”

  I cleared my throat and fidgeted in my chair uncomfortably. “No. Two guys.”

  Silence.

  Had I crossed the line? We were in a weird situation. There was tension between us, but it was never expressed.

  “Tell Graeme you want your names on the list,” he then said flatly. “Have as many people as you want.”

  From my peripheral, I watched him turn back to his documents, a deep frown set on his face as though he was displeased by something – and I knew what that something was. I was just too in denial to acknowledge we’d developed an attachment to one another. His company was the norm for me. Seeing him every work day was a guarantee. He had become a vital part of my life whether I liked to admit it or not.

  “Thanks,” I finally said weakly.

  He didn’t reply and another minute passed by.

  I cleared my throat. “So, uh, who’s Graeme?”

  He exhaled slowly and shook his head in disbelief.

  *

  How was it my fault I didn’t know Moustache Man’s name was Graeme? It wasn’t like we were on first name basis. Our union wasn’t filled with him going, ‘Hey there, I follow you around because a crazy fucking lunatic pays me to. I have this really distinguishable moustache, don’t I? Oh, and call me Graeme!’

  But I told Grae – no, I’m still calling him Moustache Man – the names after Blythe had texted me them.

  “Blythe, me, Jake and Thomas.”

  He wrote the names down and gave me a nod.

  Once home I dolled myself up to the best of my abilities. Since I was making more at this job, I had room in my budget for clothes. I’d bought some office clothes in the beginning to appease Lord Borden, and then a dress here and there. The one I picked out was a sleeveless white mini-dress that showed a lot of leg but covered up the boobage just right. I paid sixty dollars for it. For a poor girl, sixty dollars for a mini-dress was equivalent to owning Queen Elizabeth’s tiara.

  I had no intentions to drink or to chat this guy up that Blythe had gone on about. While it’d been over a year since I’d been laid – and I was at times scratching at the walls like a cat in heat – I had enough sense not to jump into bed with just anyone.

  I left my hair down in loose curls and went light on the make-up. Only after did I realize I’d steered clear from red and I didn’t want to admit to myself it was because Borden didn’t like the colour on me. Who cares what Borden thinks? I can put on red if I want. Just…Just not tonight.

  I couldn’t believe how content I was! Everything just felt different for me lately. The lack of stress over my financial concerns felt as though the shackles of poverty had been ripped from me. While I still had to budget for necessities and bills, I was nowhere near where I’d been prior to Borden’s forced recruitment of me.

  Who knew that something bright would come of that dark time in my life?

  I placed my apartment key around the chain on my neck; it was something I did out of habit that Granny had taught me once when I’d lost the house key coming home from school. A wallet you can drop, a purse can be snatched, but a simple necklace with a key around the neck often times went unnoticed.

  After turning off the lights and putting on my white heels, I hurried out of the apartment, hoping that tonight would not end with a man choking in an alleyway.

  Eighteen

  Borden

  VIP room? Really?

  Emma didn’t strike him as a girl who partied it up. In fact, he’d known her to be a hermit in her little unit apartment where she sat on her only couch and watched stupid shows all night.

  But no.

  Not tonight.

  Tonight, little Miss Emma Lynne Warne wanted to party in the VIP room with a guy who sat dangerously close to her and was watching her tits more than her face.

  That’s what Emma Lynne Warne wanted to do tonight!

  Borden clenched his teeth and sniffed. Whatever. If that’s what she wanted to do then that was her fucking choice.

  Yep. Whatever.

  The place was crowded. People were dancing around their tables and some men were fawning over the dancers on the stage. The lights flickered from colour to colour, the music thumped its party mix, and Borden just stood there in a sea of people, staring at the table where she sat with a guy who stared at her tits more than her face.

  He was angry. Always that anger that he couldn’t cool. It’d been a while since he’d found a release for it. Nobody was stepping on Borden’s toes! And it was really starting to piss him off. What was wrong with this city? Was it so hard for someone to just stir the nest and break him out of this perpetual boredom?

  Was boredom the reason he was standing here now?

  He was looking for trouble. Yes, yes, that must be it. It wasn’t her. Fuck no. It wasn’t her brown eyes that screamed obscenities at him on a daily basis, or the way she licked those unbearably soft lips when she was nervous around him, or the way she moved so fluidly without realizing how fucking gorgeous she was.

  No. No. No.

  Borden was currently following Mr Titty-Eyes to the urinal because… because he was bored! That’s all.

  Titty-Eyes was already standing in front of the urinal when Borden stepped in. He crossed his arms and leaned against the sink, watching Titty-Eyes do what was natural to him.

  Men were already doing one-eighty’s when they stepped into the restroom and spotted him. It was good that way. The room was reserved just for Borden and Titty-Eyes.

  “You liking that girl you’re sitting with?” Borden asked with a friendly smile on his face (there was no such thing as a friendly smile on Borden’s face, but Titty-Eyes didn’t need to know that).

  His eyes widened when he saw Borden.

  Christ, was this the type of guy Emma was interested in? Tall, lanky body, with moppy hair gelled in ridiculous directions and… Were those skinny jeans on the fucker? A man…A man in skinny jeans?

  It would be a serious disservice to the male race if Borden allowed this boy in skinny jeans go home with a woman that needed a real man.

  “Score on you,” Borden added with raised brows. “Very impressive.”

  Titty-Eyes relaxed and smiled back as he tucked that tiny little boy thing back into his skinny jeans and zipped it up. “Yeah, man, she totally digs me, right? She’s been all over me all night, man.”

  No, she fucking hadn’t. “Yeah? H
oly shit. She’s a looker, isn’t she?”

  “Fuckin’ oath she is. I’m gonna destroy that pussy.”

  Borden tensed. Oh, it would be so easy to drag this fucker into a stall and beat those skinny jeans off of him.

  “Well, that’s fucking fantastic for you, man,” Borden smiled as Titty-Eyes went to walk past him. “Except,” he added, extending his arm out suddenly to stop the guy, “that looker whose pussy you want to destroy… is mine.”

  Oh, this was his favourite part of being who he was. The shrinking of the shoulders, the widening of the eyes, the wobbling in the knee caps and the trembling of the lips – this was the common result of coming face to face with him.

  Borden’s smile vanished and he was looking harshly at Titty-Eyes now. “You wanted to destroy pussy that’s mine, little man?”

  Titty-Eyes shook his head quickly. “No, no. I didn’t know.”

  “And even if she wasn’t mine, you’d have only looked at her as a fuck for tonight?”

  He continued to shake his head. “No, no! I wouldn’t have done anything.”

  Borden sighed in disappointment. “I don’t believe you, little man. Empty your pockets.”

  Titty-Eyes immediately did as he was told, pulling out a wallet and car keys. Borden grabbed both off of him, setting the keys on the counter before opening his black leather wallet that had skulls on it.

  The name on the driver’s licence read Jake Barnett. There were two fifty dollar bills, some loose change and… Borden inhaled sharply as he withdrew two condoms. Titty-Eyes gulped as Borden set the wallet down and flashed the condoms in front of his eyes.

  “Didn’t plan on fucking her tonight, Jake?” Borden asked edgily.

  “N-No!”

  “Why do you have cock gloves in your wallet, little man?”

  Titty-Eyes didn’t answer. His fear quadrupled at the intensity of Borden’s eyes as they narrowed in on him like crosshairs.

  “You were going to glove yourself in my woman?”

  Titty-Eyes’ face crumpled and he… he cried! “Oh, man, I had no idea. I swear. I swear to fucking God, Mr Borden! I had no idea! Please! Please don’t hurt me! Please!”

  Borden’s nostrils flared as he regarded the crying lanky boy in skinny jeans. This was… This was just fucking pitiful. People were scared of him, sure, but it usually took them some time to fold under the pressure of his gaze. This boy did it at the drop of a hat.

  Borden was disgusted.

  Really, Emma?

  Really?!

  Emma

  I sighed.

  How long did it take for a guy to do his thing in the toilets?

  While I didn’t enjoy Jake’s company so much, it was better than being alone. Because being alone meant guys giving you attention you didn’t want.

  I’d had a bit of fun. Blythe and I danced for a good while. It was nice to let loose despite Jake trying fervently to get me to drink. I turned him down several times before he finally gave up and gulped down the alcohol himself.

  “Go easy on him,” Blythe had told me, referring to Jake’s attempts at intoxicating me. “He just broke up with his girlfriend, so he’s not really acting like himself.”

  “So he wants to get me drunk?”

  “Well… you might loosen up if you drank. You’re a little uptight, babe.”

  Then she disappeared with her guy, and suddenly the whole club thing wasn’t much fun anymore. Maybe it was because I was the only sober one there. There was too much noise, too much chatter, and even though we were in an elegant VIP room, there were too many people.

  Finally, I saw Jake emerge from the crowd. He looked… different than before. Gone was his confident demeanour. He was pale and feverish-looking.

  “You alright?” I asked him the second he made it to the table.

  He didn’t sit down and was uncomfortably looking away from me.

  “My intentions were to fuck your brains out and I’m sorry for my seedy thoughts,” he suddenly said, and the words sounded robotic. “I’m going to go home without you because I’m a filthy asshole in skinny jeans.”

  What the…

  Before I could even process his words entirely, he turned around and speedily took off into the crowd.

  “What the hell?” I whispered.

  My jaw dropped to the floor. I couldn’t move for an eternity. That was random and… and weird. I figured his intentions weren’t noble, but why come out and say them? I pressed my lips together and shook my head in disgust. Men! I mean, did he not care how I would make it home tonight? Didn’t it bother him in the least that I was on my own?

  Unbelievable.

  I watched the crowd for several minutes, trying to wrap my head around his words.

  “You having fun there, doll?”

  The familiar voice pulled me out of my clusterfuck of thoughts and I looked up at Borden’s passive face. Where the hell had he come from?

  He stood in front of the table with his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. He wore a white button up top that wrapped around his large arms tightly, and I had to remember to look at his face and away from his obvious muscle. The guy was a bloody tank.

  “Um… sort of,” I stammered out in surprise.

  His brows were knitted together in thought, his big lips pursed too as he regarded me. Against my better judgment, I felt better being around a familiar face, even if that face was Borden’s. Especially because that face is Borden’s, the hidden part of me whispered.

  “You want to sit down?” I asked, motioning to the seat beside me. It seemed the right thing to do.

  He stood there for a few seconds, debating my offer, and I was close to feeling silly, until he slid into the seat beside me. His shoulders brushed against mine and his unique smell enveloped me. He was vaguely looking around the room and I watched as the colours of the spectrum lights washed over his face. I observed his perfect profile, the way he licked his bottom lip, and how the movement of his head caused some of his brown hair to fall an inch over his forehead.

  Marcus Borden, Emma. This is Marcus fucking Borden. Not some random hot guy.

  I was a little shrimp next to him, and it made me feel a little vulnerable. It wasn’t like being in the office where I did all I could to not look at him, and he was certainly never this close to me either. Not unless I was kissing him on his cheek, something I hated to admit I looked forward to doing.

  He pulled out that zippo lighter again and circled it in one of his hands.

  “So I’m sitting down,” he said, flashing his blue eyes at me. “What now?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I’m the male here, should I offer you a drink?”

  “No, I’m alright.”

  “Oh, right,” he said seriously, “you don’t drink.”

  He closely watched me as I nodded and said, “That’s alright.” Honestly, I couldn’t believe he even remembered me saying that. That was months ago!

  “Why is that exactly?” he wondered. “Are you some reformed alcoholic or something?”

  I laughed, my mood instantly improving. “Um, no. My parents were, though.”

  “So they’re the reason?”

  “Yeah.”

  He nodded, and thankfully, he didn’t prod for more information. I was very grateful of that. Talking about it would have been a serious mood killer.

  “Where are your friends? You said you were coming with a group.”

  “Blythe took off with a guy, and the guy I was sitting with just… left me.” I was still shocked and confused by Jake’s abrupt departure.

  “Left you?” Borden raised his brows. “Why the fuck would he do that?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Did he not tell you?”

  “Uh, well, he did, but it was weird.”

  “Hmm.” He looked thoughtful and a little amused. “You look disappointed. Did you like him?”

  “No,” I admitted with a shy smile, “but he was company and I’m not good ar
ound crowds.”

  Why I was telling Borden this, I have no idea. But he was doing that normal thing again by not being an intimidating asshole that flaunted his power around. I really liked this side of him. It made me believe less that he was as mental as I allowed myself to believe. Borden was a mystery, and I was pretty sure he wanted to remain one to everyone around him. He wanted distance and yet he seemed to lose it when he was near me. It didn’t make sense to me why he wouldn’t just push me away, fire me, and let me live my own life if I was bringing out that side of him.

  I see colours when I’m around you. Those words shot through me again, like they sometimes often did, and I would gladly beg him to explain it to me. But ever since being in that office, all lustful sides of him had, for the most part, disappeared.

  He moved his eyes over every inch of my face and then looked away.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” he suddenly said, almost too quietly.

  I tried to contain my surprise at his compliment. He’d never complimented me. It was always some kind of criticism. Like how red didn’t suit me, or how my office shirt had been baggy that one time, and just last week he’d said, “What’s up with that feathery clip in your hair? It looks ridiculous. Are you a bird? You’re not a fucking bird. Take it off.” When I took my hair clip off, he tossed it in the bin and shook his head as if I’d lost my mind.

  “Nothing wrong for once?” I asked curiously.

  “No, this little handkerchief white dress suits you,” he answered, looking down at my dress with way too much concentration.

  “Handkerchief?”

  “Doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it?”

  I laughed lightly. “No, I suppose not.”

  “Got too used to you in your office clothes. I might have to force you to wear dresses like this once a week, doll.”

  I bit my bottom lip to stop from smiling like a dumbass. “Why just once a week and not every day if you like it so much?”

  God, he was suddenly fucking me with his eyes. “Because I can only handle a little taste of you. You show more and I’m going to demand the whole fucking cake.”