Borden glanced at him. “Is that right?”

Hawke nodded absently, not making any eye contact as he continued to stare around the room. Although that possessive nerve thundered within him, Borden purposely didn’t press the matter. Emma seemed to bring out the protective nature of all who looked after her. First Graeme and now…well, now it appeared Hawke was moulding to her presence. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

“Incoming,” Hawke then said. “Twelve o’clock. Red fireball of doom.”

Borden looked ahead and caught sight of Linda. She was squeezing her way through the crowd of men, an angry look on her face. The front of her red dress and the tips of her long red hair were drenched. When she caught his gaze, she turned her body in his direction and hurried to him. She was panting by the time she stopped in front of him, her tall, slender frame shaking with pent up fury. Hawke shook too, but with laughter, and she glared at him for it.

“What the fuck, Borden!” she hissed. “These men are animals! They are turning this place into a warzone! Do you know how long it’s going to take for us to clean this shit up?”

“Why are you drenched?” Hawke asked. “Looks like somebody took you for a spin.”

“Nobody took me for a spin, asshole!” she retorted. “But the fuckers in here seem to think I’m some club whore ready to spread myself out for them.”

“They did this to you?” Borden said, looking down at her exposed wet cleavage. He could see the full outline of her breasts through her dress.

“After they rubbed their stiff dicks against my hips and ass, yes, they did this to me!”

Borden sighed, shooting Hawke a dark look. “Like I said, they’re fucking savages.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t,” Hawke argued. “I just said they aren’t worth a bullet.”

“What are they even doing here?” Linda fumed. “You could have warned me about them.”

Borden looked back at her. “You’re right. You shouldn’t be here. Grab your things and leave. Have one of the men take you home. We’ll take care of the rest.”

“Thank you!” she replied, her voice turning bitter. “Glad to know the only way you’ll get me out of this mess is by being sexually assaulted first. Boss of the year over here.”

Before he could respond, she turned away and hurried off, angrily shoving the men that reached out to her. They just laughed it off, causing more of Borden’s nerves to twitch.

“What is it with these women suddenly talking back to me?” he mumbled, shaking his head.

Hawke smirked. “After Emma’s back chat, Linda has no reason to fear you.”

“With Emma, it’s different. I like her filthy mouth. I don’t like it from Linda. Now let’s get the fuck out of here before I seriously end up shooting someone.”

They turned just as another smash tore through the air. Borden clenched his jaw as he heard the sound of two more men brawling over a bottle of spilled beer.

Two

Emma

I looked like shit. I felt like shit. My hair was still damp and tied up in a bun, my face make-up less and tired. I felt like I’d been dumped here in the office, and if it wasn’t for the bowl of chocolates in front of me, I might have thrown a riot.

But chocolate, right? Who can be depressed about that? I’d consumed a few pounds worth, until my tastebuds gave out and my stomach threatened to explode. And still, I tore more wrappers off and ate some more.

Out of boredom, I played Angry Birds Fight on my phone behind my desk. Some dude with a flag of New Zealand was currently kicking my ass. I blamed my losing streak on my discomfort. I was seated in a weird angle in my chair, only because it hurt to sit down properly. Every inch of me below the hips was sore.

As I played, images ran through my mind of the shower I’d had earlier tonight. Of Borden’s mouth against mine, of his body pressing me against the stall as the water beat down around us. Of him sucking my tongue, nibbling at my lower lip, trailing those hard hands down my body, gripping me, owning me.

I felt hot just thinking about it. Of how powerful he was. The way he picked me up effortlessly, growling at me to, “Wrap your fucking legs around me.” I wrapped them around him like a vine, kissing him like my life depended on it, waiting for him to push inside me.

I should have known the asshole would tease me first.

He always teased me first.

“You gonna beg, doll?” he whispered into my mouth.

“No,” I’d retorted, stubborn and defiant.

His chest shook with silent laughter, and then he’d trailed the head of his cock against my folds, brushing it over my clit. I shook in his grip, holding him tighter. He smiled cruelly against my mouth, amused by my reaction as he teased me relentlessly.

“Beg, doll,” he demanded, still quietly, but more hoarsely than before. “Beg for me to fuck you.”

I dug my fingernails into his upper back, shaking all around him when he continued to glide himself along my sex. I dug my nails deeper with every passing moment. It was my way of begging him, and I knew it fed his masochism. Because his eyelids would go heavy and his kisses would become punishing, and he’d finally relent, widening my legs enough before abruptly plunging hard inside me.

He’d stilled after the first thrust, and for a moment, I felt this sensational feeling of fullness. It was always that first thrust that made my eyes roll to the back of my head. The walls of my pussy clenched him hungrily, and he groaned at the sensation. My mouth was hanging open, tasting the drops of water from the showerhead before his tongue invaded it. And then he moved, thrusting faster and harder, again and again.

Shit, it was always hard. I didn’t know how to like fucking any other way. He was an addiction. Terrible for my health but intoxicating. He possessed every inch of me; even my mind – the harshest critic – burned the bridges to the logical part of me.

I had felt so tiny in his grip. He had held me like I weighed nothing, and I delighted at the look of his large biceps straining, those veins poking out, creating sexy lines I wanted to lick. He was delicious. I feverishly licked at him back, uncaring what I was kissing, what I was sucking, what part of him was in my mouth. I lost myself in him, crying out, teeth scraping against his hard jawline, as I came hard.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, breathlessly, “even I felt that, doll.”