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Claimed by the Bad Boy

Page 13

by London Saint James


  “At last,” Deck said, grinning from ear to ear. “I was beginning to wonder if you would ever realize you did.”

  “You’re lucky we’re in a hoity-toity place, or I’d be flipping you off right about now,” he teased.

  Ryker and his brother finished their meals and were still chatting about women—namely Molly and Tiffany—when Deck received a call from his foreman saying one of his employees had been injured on the job.

  “Go on, man,” Ryker said. “Do what you need to. I’ve got lunch.”

  “All right. Thanks. Catch ya later, bro.”

  ***

  Getting up from her seat in the Douglas room at the Ritz, Molly was relieved the over two-hour get-together with the board was over. It hadn’t been an easy discussion; however, she and Jack did gain the board’s approval to proceed with getting some construction estimates, moving away from proposed cost to actual hard figures for their next go-around of talks. She supposed some progress toward the needed expansion was better than none.

  Making her way over to the door where Jack was waiting for her, she wasn’t particularly looking forward to meeting with him alone, but she’d set her mind to tell him today she wouldn’t be seeing him any longer and would let the chips fall where they may.

  “I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I need a stiff drink over lunch.”

  She gave him a polite grin. “I don’t drink, Jack.”

  “Well, you eat. And I know I’m hungry, so let’s walk over to Elway’s and eat while we talk.”

  “All right.”

  He allowed her to go first, following behind then catching up. “How was your time with Mary this weekend?”

  “Oh, gosh. She had the baby.”

  He smiled. “She did?”

  Molly nodded. “A little girl.”

  “What did she name her?”

  “Eliza Mae.”

  “Cute name.”

  “She’s a sweetie pie. Dark hair and green eyes.”

  When they got to the restaurant, Jack placed his palm on the small of her back, speaking to the hostess. Molly tried to move, but he moved with her, and it made her uncomfortable; however, she wasn’t able to outmaneuver him unless she made a scene, and that wasn’t something she would do. So his hand remained planted on her until they were seated.

  “You look beautiful today, Molly,” he said.

  She squirmed a bit in her seat. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Why did you want to get together after the board meeting?”

  He scowled. “Do I need a specific reason?”

  “Jack—”

  He ran a hand down his blood-red tie. “I wanted to talk about us.”

  There was her opening to tell him she needed to end their relationship.

  “I would like to discuss a few things as well,” she said, straightening her spine.

  Before Molly could even gather her next thought, Jack reached across the table for her hand, which she very carefully, slipped back from his.

  An instant later, Ryker was standing at their table, features hard, jaw muscle ticking, stormy eyes narrowed in on Jack, then her.

  “He’s your meeting, Molly?” he asked in a low rumble, which made her nipples peak to life.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Present.

  “Excuse me?” said the corn nut, gazing at Ryker, incredulous. “Who are you?”

  “Molly.” Ryker glared at her, declining to speak with pretty boy. “Do you want to tell him who I am, or should I?”

  “Ryker,” she said, in a voice and demeanor—all business. “This is Jack Jamison, the director of Horizons, whom I work with, and we were having a meeting over lunch.”

  Fucking hell. She never mentioned the coworker thing.

  “You work with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wait a minute,” Jack said, hand slicing the air. “What’s going on, Molls? Who is this guy to you?”

  “Molly,” she snapped, glowering at Jack. “Not Molls. And Ryker is….”

  “What’s the hesitation about, Molls?” He looked at Jack and wanted to punch him in his perfect, symmetrical, clean-shaven face. “Molly belongs to me, Jack.”

  Her head whipped up, eyes rounded.

  “Belongs?” Jack asked, frowning.

  “You heard me. I didn’t stutter.”

  Ryker stared the asshole down, only just leashing his fury.

  “Ryker, please,” said Molly in a hushed tone.

  “Get up, Molls. You’re coming with me.”

  She scooted her legs around in her seat. “You’re not going anywhere, Molly,” said Jack.

  “Stop it. The both of you.” Her gaze darted from left to right. “People are starting to notice us.” Molly stood, in a graceful move, and swiped her hands down her hips. Ryker put his arm around her waist, claiming his woman. “Jack. I’m sorry, but if I hadn’t have been interrupted”—she glanced up, giving him the, you’re-being-a-dickhead look then back over to the man Ryker wanted to strangle—“I would have told you about Ryker, and I would have said I can no longer see you outside of work.”

  “What?” he spluttered. Hand fisted on the table.

  “I’m sorry for how this conversation transpired, and how I’m sure everything here this afternoon has taken you by surprise.”

  “Come on,” Ryker said, moving her along.

  “Wait,” Jack called, getting up.

  Molly half turned to see him. Ryker’s fingers curled into her hip. “Please. Don’t make this any worse than it already is. I’ll see you at the office later.”

  “You can’t just go, Molly.”

  “She can,” said Ryker. “And she is.”

  Part of him was pleased she was leaving with him, the other, that dark possessive side of Ryker, was enraged over the fact she would be seeing the douche-nozzle at work on a freaking daily basis. That tidbit of news made his temples throb and was going to drive him nuts.

  Keeping his arm secured around her upper back, they left the restaurant. “Ryker, you shouldn’t have—”

  “Molly. Don’t say another word.”

  “But—”

  “I swear to God. If you open your mouth one more time….” Ryker grabbed her wrist and placed her palm to his hard crotch. “I’m putting this in it.” He linked his fingers with hers and tugged their hands down to his side, walking with determination to the expansive front desk. “I need a room. It doesn’t matter what room. Whatever you have available.”

  After going through the process, slapping down his platinum card to pay for the place, and getting the key, Ryker, once again, moved Molly along, keeping steady pressure in the middle of her shoulder blades with the palm of his hand until they arrived at the room, where he swiped the electronic card key through the security lock and then maneuvered her inside.

  The door shut and latched behind them. Ryker dropped the card key on a table, gaze set on her as she sashayed farther into the room. He rolled his head along his tense neck, then followed. Unloosening his tie, he took it off, flinging the dark silk over the chair and next removing his Versace suit coat—all the while Molly stood silent and took him in, biting the bottom lip he wanted to bite. The woman was driving him crazy.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you work with him?” he asked. “I think that little piece of information was something you needed to mention.”

  “I didn’t think….” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head, glancing down at her twisting hands.

  “Molly. You didn’t think? Come on.” She snapped her spine straight and lifted her head, meeting him eye to eye. Her quiet defiance stroked his need to bring her into compliance. He devoured her with his gaze, standing there so prim and pressed in her sensible skirt and sky blue blouse, with her hair pulled into a loose bun behind her right ear and a few loose strands dangling down her cheek. Tempting him. “Do you want to make me jealous? Was that your plan?”


  “No. I-I.” She was nervous. Good. He was going to remind her who she belonged to.

  “Let me warn you now. Making me jealous isn’t a road you want to travel with me.”

  “How could I have known you would be here today? There wasn’t any plot to rub him in your face. It was nothing but a working lunch, and I was going to tell Jack I wasn’t going to see him any longer.”

  He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off. Her gray-green gaze went to his chest. His stomach. Her tongue darted over those plump, petal soft lips.

  Two steps. That’s what it took to get to her. He spun her around to face the mirror hanging on the wall.

  “Put your hands on the desk, Molly.” He reached and clenched her jaw in his grip, hard enough to impart his demand, although not enough to harm her. She didn’t move. She was testing him. “Now.” She did what he demanded, calling forth his need, while at the same time soothing some of the jealousy over seeing his woman with Jack. “Look at me.” Their gazes met in the reflection. “You are mine. Do you understand what that means?” She nodded. “Answer me.”

  “Yes.”

  His thumb brushed back and forth across her cheek. “Do you want me?”

  “You know I do.”

  He slipped his hand to her throat, palm and fingers curling around the delicate column, forcing her head back. “Say it.”

  “I do. I want you, Ryker.”

  As soon as she said the words he needed to hear, he lifted her skirt, fisted her panties, and wrenched them from her body. Her fingers splayed wide atop the dark mahogany wood. He undid his belt and zipper. Molly sucked in a breath.

  “Press your ass out, and keep those hands on the desk.”

  Seeing her comply both fed and fueled more of his ache for her. Ryker swiped his fingers down the seam of her pussy—his pussy—feeling her slick desire for him.

  “Keep looking at me,” he said, gripping onto her hip, guiding his cock to her opening with the other hand, then powering inside of her, rocking her body forward, her hands skittering along the wood.

  He saw the fluttering of her lashes as she cried out, “Aah…,” reveling in the way her body took him to the root then clenched like a warm, wet, tight fist around his throbbing dick.

  He latched onto those sexy hips and pounded in and out of her sweetness in a fast pace, punishing her with his cock for ever daring to be with that man. Jack fucking Jamison.

  “Tell me, Molly. Who do you belong to?”

  His balls slapped her wet sex with each volatile thrust.

  “You,” she said in a breathy voice, which turned into a moan.

  Taking her hard, seeing the flush of her neck and cheeks he asked, “Who’s fucking you.”

  “You are.”

  “I want my name.”

  “Ryker.”

  “Tell me how much you want me, Molly.”

  “I….”

  “Tell me.”

  He snaked his arm around her waist, dipped low and pinched her clit.

  “Y-you,” she stuttered, body jumping. “You are all I want. All I’ve ever wanted.” She gave him the answer he sought, ass bumping into him as he continued to fuck into her tight little cunt.

  His voice went guttural. “Who do you come for?”

  “You, Ryker. Only you.”

  “Do you want to come for me?” He imparted his question with another pinch-tug to her pebbled clitoris.

  “God yes.”

  His hold on her body became tighter, fucking into her now at an almost brutal pace. He was going to mark her as his. “Beg me.”

  “Please.” Their gazes locked. Held. “Please let me come.”

  Ryker rubbed her clit. “Come, Molly.”

  She screamed out his name, the soft walls of her pussy tightening around him, milking his cock, sending him over the edge with a lightning strike rippling down his spine and fisting his balls.

  With the last of her climax slowing, he released his hot cum deep into her snug little piece, feeling a primal urge of ownership and of satisfaction roll over him in a shudder.

  They were both still breathing hard when he pulled his dick out of her body, dropped his gaze, and deftly spread her bare lower lips wide with his fingers. Her pussy kissed the air as his seed spilled down the sweet pink of her and trickled along her inner thigh. Pleasure racked him. This was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

  Leaning over her back, he cupped her sex in his hand, holding his seed in place. He nuzzled his nose into her hair, loving how his warm juices mingled with hers and coated his fingers. One word echoed inside his head. Mine.

  Ryker traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, sucked on her earlobe, then whispered, “I’m inside of you, Molls.” She whimpered and shook.

  “You like the thought,” he said, his wet forefinger tapping her clit, “just as much as I do, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  He slipped one finger inside of her and groaned. “It makes me so hot to feel my cum inside of you.”

  “Ryker.” She bit her bottom lip.

  “You’re going to go back to work with me here.” He pumped in and out of her sopping pussy once. Twice. Then slicked his finger to her tight backside pucker, coated her there with his seed. Pressed. “And here.”

  “Yes,” she said in a breath, eyelids closing.

  Her agreement was a soothing balm to his soul.

  ***

  The moment Molly entered her office, and before she could sit down at her desk, Jack Jamison was there, shutting and locking the door. His sculptured face—hard. Cold. And his cognac-colored eyes looked to be frozen umber.

  Shoving his fingers through his hair, he went to her. “What in the hell is going on, Molly?”

  She sighed, glanced down at the floor, and studied the swirl pattern in the brown carpet a moment before she gazed back up at him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah,” he snapped. “You’ve said that already. What I want to know is how only a couple of days away from each other this weekend has somehow made you dump me and ‘belong’”—he did finger quotes— “To that Ryker guy.”

  Weakness assaulted her knees. She didn’t want to hurt Jack, and the whole lunch scene had been awful.

  She sat down on one of the chairs in front of her desk, tugged the strap of her purse off her shoulder, and set the Louis Vuitton bag on the floor. “I do belong to him, Jack. I always have.”

  He shook his head, tugged the chair beside hers over, placed it in front of her and sat, elbows on his knees, leaning in close to her. “I need to hear something that makes sense. You and I have been together for six months, and neither his name, nor he, has ever popped up before.”

  “I don’t know about the women in your life either, Jack.”

  “Christ, Molly. You are the woman in my life.” He paused and appeared to be gathering his calm. “Have you been with him the whole time you’ve been with me?”

  “No.”

  “Then what—”

  “I’ve known Ryker for most of my life. We’ve always been friends, and sometimes more, but he walked out of my life, and then came back this weekend.”

  “I don’t get it. How does a guy who walked out, then shows up, have some type of beat-your-chest, alpha-type claim on you?”

  She smiled with the memory of Ryker taking her earlier. “He’s an alpha all right.”

  “Molly,” he said with a stern edge she hadn’t heard in him before.

  She blinked, snapping her attention back into the room. “I know I should have told you about Ryker, since the plain and simple truth is, I love him, Jack. I’ve always loved him. And, well, I guess when he walked away this last time, I thought I needed to move on. I thought, maybe, I could move on with you.”

  “You can,” he said, and reached for her hand, holding on tight. “You can move on with me.”

  “No, Jack.” She tugged free of his hold. “I do love him, and he finally wants to be with me.”

  “Damn it, Molly.” He straig
htened in the chair. “Do you hear yourself? He ‘finally’ wants you? I’ve always wanted you. No indecision on my part. I still want you.”

  She closed her eyes for one moment in time before fixing her gaze on him. “I know, when it comes to my relationship with Ryker, it all sounds ridiculous. I guess because our relationship has been crazy in a back-and-forth type of ride, and one I thought I wanted off of. But, Jack. Crazy or not, I don’t want off the ride. Ryker has and will always be the one man for me.”

  Pain flickered over his face, before he smoothed his features into neutrality. “I don’t accept he’s the one man for you, or even the right man.”

  “I’m sorry, Jack. I never wanted to hurt you. I do care for you, and I think you are a wonderful man.”

  “Yeah, but?”

  “But,” she said, “you need to accept what I’ve said here today about Ryker being the only man for me, because it’s the truth.”

  ***

  After checking out from the Ritz, only forty minutes after checking in, Ryker headed home instead of returning to his office. In fact, he broke more than a few speed limits on the way, and even brushed off the neighbor who wanted to chat when he got out of his car he’d parked catawampus in the driveway.

  Taking large strides, he made his way to his bedroom closet, tugged two boxes down from one of the shelves, took them over to his bed, sat, unlatched the lid on one, and opened his treasure. There, nestled in the black satin was the thin, platinum slave day collar he had crafted while he was in Singapore, never sure if he would get to collar her, but now. Now, he was sure. He wanted Molly. Mind, body, heart, and soul.

  With deliberate slowness, he ran a fingertip over the diamond-incrusted reef knot in the front, which when worn, would nestle snuggly into the hollow of Molly’s throat. Smiling, his attention went to the other box. What was inside? Another, wider collar. Not for day use. It was made of white leather and platinum links that had been fitted with an O-ring for the easy attachment of accessories, which he would be using tonight. But first, he was going to call and secure a table at The Razor Club, then he was going shopping for something little, and black, for Molly.

 

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