BOUND: A Dark Bad Boy Romance
Page 6
“The fact is, I didn’t want to have to do business this way. I prefer the easy, negotiable way in which we are both adults about the whole thing.” He lifted his broad shoulders slightly. “But you were being horribly uncooperative. You left me no choice.”
“No choice?” I repeated incredulously.
Ignoring me, he continued. “Now, I’m forced to leave you with no choice.”
I began to shake my head, my heart sinking. “What do you want?”
“I told you already, I want your storage.” He sat back again, his momentary burst of anger gone in a flash, just as quickly as it had come. “You have something I need. A piece of property in town without my name on it. A rare commodity these days. And that little slice of storage space already receives steady, legitimate shipments of consumable goods.”
“You want storage space? Fine, take it,” I spat, furious as I realized that I didn’t have any options left. Turning him down had just cost me an income that I couldn’t afford to lose. Maybe I could make it back in whatever deal he was going to throw at me.
He held up a hand. “Oh, I’m going to. You see, I had been willing to pay an excellent price for it. Monthly rent that you so desperately needed. After all, I’m not heartless.”
I couldn’t stop myself from snorting, though I instantly regretted it. I didn’t tell him that I highly doubted the existence of his heart, mostly because I saw the hardening of his eyes. He hadn’t appreciated that little sound.
“I know that adorable little boy of yours isn’t cheap.”
It was the way he said it. With hard eyes and a dangerous tone, the threat laced beneath was clear and present. He was threatening my boy, reminding me that he had me by the balls. And I didn’t like it.
Without a thought in my head, I lunged. I threw myself over his desk, reaching for him, but I didn’t make it more than a couple of inches. The big man, Clay, who had been standing at the door, moved like lightning. He caught me around the waist and jerked me back, throwing me harshly into a chair. He didn’t say anything, but he left a large hand planted heavily on my shoulder to keep me from trying anything else.
“I told you not to talk about my son!”
Marsh only smiled at me. “In lieu of the proposal so quickly rejected earlier, here’s the new one. I will use that storage space anyway. And not only am I not going to pay rent, I’m going to charge you protection. Clearly, after the fire, you need it.”
I opened my mouth, but couldn’t find any words. What he was talking about….Pay protection? Between the cost of repairs and the lost income of the convenience store, how was I supposed to find this extra money to pay Marsh, too?
Grasping at straws, I jumped on the only thing I could think of. “You wouldn’t burn down the salon. Not if you’re storing your own stuff there.” It may not have been the best argument I’d ever come up with, but it held water. If he was going to use the storage space anyway, he wouldn’t want to destroy his own goods.
I felt a little better, like I still had a dog in this fight. Until I saw his unperturbed expression.
“Sometimes you have to take a loss. And besides, who says you have to worry about me burning the place down?” When I didn’t answer, he continued, “I have my enemies. It would be easy to throw out a few hints into the ether, little tips to attract the wrong kind of people to your shop. My rivals would love to get their hands on my stash. In fact, that’s half the reason I needed the space in the first place.”
My heart sunk. I was screwed, and this bastard of a man knew it, too.
“So you will need my protection. Because after they torch The Beehive, I’d have to punish you for losing not only that precious storage space, but also my very expensive stash. Honey, you’d be ruined in less than a week.”
I slumped in the chair. Clay’s beefy fingers released me, letting me wallow in my situation. It had been a long time since I’d felt this out of control, this utterly helpless. My heart ached in my chest, my breathing like drawing air through a cigarette filter. How had this happened to me?
I did the right thing and I got screwed for it.
My eyes burned as I tried not to cry, but it was all too much. I thought of my pride, of how hard I’d worked towards building it up. After everything that had happened with Nick, after all the mistakes I’d made with his father, and the stupid things I’d tried as a kid…. I’d worked hard to come back from it and all of that effort was tied up in those two little businesses. The Beehive and that convenience store were my life. Not just the way I made a living, but how I convinced myself that I was doing good. That I was setting a good example for my kid.
And now…what was left?
I shook my head. I couldn’t afford to lose The Beehive and then to owe Marsh on top of that.
The tears came unbidden, no matter how hard I tried to stop them. I felt them tip over my lashes and slide hot and wet down my cheeks. I didn’t bother to wipe them away or even acknowledge them.
“Please,” I heard myself croak. I was disgusted with the sound of begging, but I couldn’t deny the fact that that was what I was doing. There were no other options now. “I can’t pay you protection. You have to know that.”
He smiled and nodded his head. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
I stared at him through my tears, wishing I had a card left to play. Wishing that I were a stronger person that could stand up to a man like Marsh, but he held all the power. “You don’t understand. I can’t even afford to give you a cut of—”
He held up his hand to stop me. “No, no. I have something else in mind.”
Chapter Seven
“You’re going to pay me with your body.”
I was frozen to the chair. Stuck to the worn vinyl seat cushion in Mason Marsh’s office, watching him like he had just grown a second head. Because there was no possible way he was saying what I thought he was saying.
“No.” The one word answer was out of my mouth before I had a chance to even think twice about it. It was an automatic, instant reaction on my part that was more instinct than anything else. Because my brain may have still been processing what Mason was talking about, but my body was already responding. I felt greasy, disgusting. Like he’d just dumped slime over the top of me, coating my body until I was both a game show reject and a sewer rat.
My mind was trying to tell me that I must have misunderstood him. Even a bastard like him couldn’t mean that.
No, he just burns people’s workplaces down. He wouldn’t charge sexual favors in exchange for protection against him, I thought dryly.
Mason lifted a single dark brow at me, a smirk playing at his lips. He didn’t seem the least put off by my answer and I knew why.
Because I might have said no right away, but we both knew that I wasn’t in a bargaining position. He’d get what he wanted—or I’d lose more than my store.
“No?” he parroted back to me, mocking my tone. “But you haven’t even heard the details yet.”
I felt bile rise in my throat. It took everything I had to not puke right there. Though maybe that would be enough to put this sick, twisted idea out of his head. I doubt it. He’d do it just to make me pay.
Trying to control the tears that weren’t doing me any good, I folded my arms across my chest and acted like I was in charge instead of utterly terrified. “I don’t need to hear the details,” I assured him. “They can’t be interesting enough to make me consider it.” I was doing well until that tremble entered my voice in the end, announcing to everyone in the room that I was anything but confident.
What was worse, as I said those words, my mind decided to flash with images of my dream. Being tied up at The Beehive as I was manhandled by sexy, dominating Mason Marsh.
It was horrible. How could I be both terrified and turned on? How could I be disgusted and thrilled at the same time? It wasn’t right and it only served to make me feel worse about the whole thing. Because now not only did I think he was a piece of shit, but I was, too.
I blinked at him, my brain seriously lagging on its processing time. “What?”
He stood then and began to undo his well-fitting jeans. I watched with wide eyes as he deftly undid his button and jerked down his fly. Horror had to have been written across my face as I looked around the room in a panic. I recoiled, trying to put as much distance between myself and Mason as possible, but being in the chair didn’t really make that an easy task.
Raising a brow at me, he motioned towards his desk which was mostly bare. Just a few papers, a cell phone, and a laptop off to the side. I stared at it like it was the devil’s own bed and it was going to bite me if I touched it.
Glancing at first to the door—in the futile hope for escape—then at the thug standing beside it, I hesitated. When I looked back at Mason, he was still smiling blandly.
“What? Clay?” he asked innocently, as though just realizing that the man was still in the room with us. “Don’t worry about him. He doesn’t mind.”
I felt sick. Utterly sick. Because in that moment I realized the severity of what was going on.
My options were none. Leaving—assuming Mason would even let me—would only leave me with a half burned down business, bills I couldn’t pay, and in serious danger from Mason’s competitors. If I miraculously navigated my way through all of that unscathed, I would still end up being homeless.
And so would Nick.
Trembling with anger and a newfound self-loathing, I stood up from the chair. Mason watched me, that infuriating smile still in place. With shaking fingers, I reached for my blouse. I began to undo the buttons, lifting my chin in my only real show of defiance as I did so. He didn’t seem to mind. He watched me like a hawk, his eyes fixated on my fingers and the smooth skin they exposed.
I swallowed heavily, but forced myself to keep going. There was no other way out. I undid all of the buttons of my blouse, exposing my pale skin beneath and the basic tan bra I’d worn beneath my blouse. Angrily, I jerked the blouse off and let it fall behind me.
I half expected Mason to laugh at my anger, but he ignored it. Instead, he told me simply, “Very nice.” Like this was a normal thing and that was the kind of compliment that would put my panties in a twist.
Well, sorry to disappoint, I thought. I’m not going to just fall over you. You want this as a business deal? I’ll treat it that way.
The thoughts were just false bravado, of course. I was terrified, and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t just pretend that this was all okay.
My hands had paused for a moment while I tried to decide where they were supposed to go next. Did he want me completely undressed? Should I take my bra off next? Or maybe I should do the pants or the shoes first? I felt like an idiot and a virgin, even though I’d done this plenty of times before, if not recently. Everything about this was just so…hard. So awkward.
“The pants,” Mason finally told me, realizing my predicament. “Take those off next.”
To my mortification, my body responded to the demand in his voice. I felt heat flush my body and was embarrassed to feel wetness between my legs. Thanks to my dream of Mason, my body was primed and ready for his orders and his dominance. It wanted it, even if I didn’t.
I undid my black jeans swiftly and started doing the shuffle to get them off. I got them down my thighs and past my knees, feeling his gaze on me the entire time. When I reached the little ankle boots, I had to pause and take them off. That was awkward, because my pants were already around my ankles, but I pretended that I was still at home, in my bedroom. That this was nothing. Just getting undressed after a long day.
When I’d managed to get my boots and socks off, I went back to my jeans and finished wiggling out of them. I was bright red from embarrassment, knowing that not only was Mason watching, but that bastard Clay probably was, too.
I’m a whore, I thought suddenly. It was enough to make me want to cry all over again, but I managed to hold back.
When I felt sufficiently composed, I straightened myself up, throwing my hair back over my shoulders. I stood as though at attention in front of Mason, waiting for my next instructions.
He took a long moment where he didn’t say anything. He just stared at me. His eyes raked over my exposed skin, lingering on my breasts and between my thighs. I wasn’t wearing anything particularly sexy as far as underwear went, but they weren’t granny panties either. Bikini cut underwear and a low slung bra that exposed the tops of my breasts went a long way to compensate for the lack of frills and the dull beige color.
I felt like I waited forever, just standing there in my underthings while Mason examined me. But finally, he spoke.
“Lay down on the desk, please.” His tone was polite, almost pleasant. It was a tone he might use to talk to a friend about the damn weather.
Forcing myself not to tremble, I hesitated for just a second, then I turned around so that I could sit on the desk. Immediately, I decided that was a bad idea, because now I could see Clay. It was impossible to not notice that he was watching, just as attentive as Mason.
My stomach churned, but I forced myself to keep going. In for a penny, in for a pound. It’s too late to go back now, I thought.
Swallowing heavily, I scooched back on the desk and then carefully laid back. When my back was pressed flat against the cold wood, I noticed Mason again. His pants were already undone and I noticed that he was bare beneath, his erection already hard and close to freedom.
Just like in my dream, his large hands moved on to his shirt. He jerked it off quickly, throwing it onto his chair. When he reached for his pants again, I looked away. I didn’t want to watch this, didn’t want to be here.
I stared at the ceiling instead, waiting for the inevitable. My whole body felt like it was pulled taut like a piano string, prepared for the unthinkable. The waiting, I thought, was worse than the actual deed. Just knowing it was coming—
Then he touched me.
I jerked from the sudden touch, his hand sliding along my bare side near my ribs. “You’re soft, Sasha,” he told me in a deep voice that sent conflicting shivers down my spine. “And fit. You’re in good shape considering you had a kid.”
I swallowed, shutting my eyes. I didn’t want him to talk about Nick, but it reminded me of the dream again. You’re definitely a mom I’d like to fuck. I nearly whimpered, but managed to muffle it. Mostly.
Not enough, though, because Mason commented. “I knew you’d come around to the deal.”
That pissed me off enough that my eyes snapped open and I turned so that I was staring at Mason, glaring venomously at him. “Shut up,” I told him.
He laughed at me. “Spunky. I like it. Just don’t get too spunky.”
His hand moved down my frame, making me shiver in the good and the bad ways again. It frustrated the hell out of me that my mind and body couldn’t seem to agree on what was happening here.
When his fingers reached my panties, they curled beneath the hem and jerked them down my legs. I clenched my eyes shut, trying not to remember my erotic dream.
But it was impossible. He’d ripped them off of me then and stuffed them into my mouth. I half expected the real Marsh to do that, too, but he didn’t. He tossed them carelessly, then went back to my body. His hands slid over my hips and thighs, my navel and my ribs.
I was trying not to look at him, but it was impossible. When I felt his hand just below my bra, my eyes snapped open again to find him watching my reactions.
Now that I was looking at him, I couldn’t help but stare. His muscles were carved as though from stone, hard and
bulging in all the right ways. But there were scars there, scrapes across his body that added a strange beauty to him. A slice across his bicep. A strip of angry, gnarled red down his chest. A small notch missing at his hip. His abs were like a washboard and I couldn’t help but notice that little trail of dark hair leading down to—
Despite myself, I caught my breath. He was big. His cock was hard with veins trailing up towards the dark pink head. I found myself thinking that maybe my imagination hadn’t given him enough credit.
“Like what you see, baby?” he growled as he leveled his hard erection at my entrance. He was settled between my legs, his hands having moved down to my inner thighs so that he could push them open wider. He was looking at me when he asked it, but then his eyes trailed down lower to my core. He laughed. “I guess that answers that.”