Marcus gets some answers, and Erin manipulates Tara.
Friday, September 13th, 12:27 am
Fifteen minutes later found me standing in front of the elevator in the main foyer. Chloe was already there, arms crossed, eyeing me as I approached.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” Chloe replied.
She looked as tired as I felt as we waited for the elevator to arrive. It wasn’t surprising, considering everything we’d been through.
“After surviving the day that wouldn’t end, I’m surprised you wanted to come with me.”
Chloe snorted. “I was tempted to just stay in bed, but considering who it is, I didn’t want to miss out on the fun.”
“Yeah, I can’t blame you,” I admitted.
The elevator opened, and we both stepped inside. The awkward silence was so thick I could’ve cut it with a knife. As the doors shut, I looked over at her.
“Are we okay?”
“Are we?” Chloe asked, looking me dead in the eyes.
I always admired that about her—she never looked away, never flinched.
“I’m sorry, too,” I said, referring to the apology note she’d left in my study… the one Erin had mentioned.
The corner of her mouth twitched—the ghost of a smile on her lips. She didn’t say anything else. Typical Chloe.
I wanted to say more, but it didn’t feel right. That hint of a smile had been her version of anyone else screaming acceptance and forgiveness. Trying to pry anything more out of her probably would’ve just brought us right back to square one.
I wanted Chloe in my life, but that meant taking her as she was—a surly, terse soldier who’d rather face an army than talk through her feelings. So I just smiled back.
The next two minutes were quiet between us until we were standing in front of an apartment door one floor above Phoebe’s. I knocked.
The door opened just enough to show Henry Psalter standing there, looking at me with an expression that suggested he could just as easily kill me as shake my hand. He looked me up and down through the three-inch gap in the doorway, then stepped aside, opening it wide enough to let me in.
“Where is he?” I asked as Chloe and I stepped into the room.
“In the dining room,” Henry said as he shut the door behind us. The tone of his voice made it sound as if it were just another quiet evening at home.
He didn’t waste any time leading us through a nice, spacious kitchen, an arched doorway, and into a respectably sized breakfast/dining room. Chloe and I passed several of Psalter’s men as we followed in his wake. I noticed one of them holding a collection of zip ties.
As soon as we stepped into the living room, I saw him.
“Mr. Upton,” Psalter said, gesturing to the small man sitting at a table in front of an empty plate. “I believe you’ve met Ryo Tanaka.”
He looked small.
I mean, Ryo Tanaka had seemed small before, but this was different. Back in Norway, his stature made me think of a tiny dog—not typically deadly except in the right circumstances. While he had hostages and a gun in my face, it felt like that small dog had its teeth around my throat.
Now, he just looked frail… like the little alien inside that robot mustache guy in the first Men in Black movie.
He was sitting at a small four-person table that held a single empty plate with a dusting of crumbs and a half-empty glass of water. It made sense that he’d be hungry… I can’t imagine Psalter provided in-flight snacks.
“What did you feed him?” I asked as I took the seat across the table from our captive. He simply stared back at me in sullen silence.
“Your maid brought it. Jenny?”
“Jessica,” I corrected.
“She brought a chicken sandwich—one for him as well as some for the men. They were quite good. Compliments to the chef.”
“Thanks. I’ll pass it along,” I said.
I studied Ryo for a few moments and then said, “How was the flight?”
He didn’t answer.
“I’m afraid he skipped that part. He only woke up thirty minutes before I texted you. Benzodiazepine… one hell of a drug. Especially if it’s being administered as a constant drip.”
I could see that now. He looked about five times rougher than I did when I woke up. I hadn’t been able to immediately tell because of the bruising along the left side of his face.
“Sounds kind of nice,” I said. “I’m still catching up on the sleep I lost while you were hunting me.”
Ryo stayed quiet.
“Fuck, Ryo!” I said, exasperated. “This isn’t going to be satisfying if you don’t talk!”
Before anyone could even register her movements, Chloe stomped over to Ryo and hit him. It wasn’t an open-handed slap. It was a punch aimed so perfectly that the skin at his cheekbone split, adding another injury to his already pummeled face. It drove his head to the side, and blood spattered across the floor.
“Ah! No! I’ll tell you what you want! Please! Don’t hit me!”
His arms were raised in a defensive posture, and his eyes remained closed as he cringed away from my bodyguard. It didn’t stop Chloe; she grabbed his wrist in some kind of fancy hold and twisted it in a way that had Ryo leaning back into his chair, facing her as he let out a strangled gasp.
It left his face wide open for another punch—a firm jab to the nose accompanied by a loud crunch.
As she pulled her knuckles out of his face, I could see blood pouring from both nostrils. The bridge bent at an angle.
Ryo’s hands flew to his face, trying to stop the bleeding as Chloe released him.
“Oh, my,” Psalter said, shaking his head in dismay. “These are new floors, aren’t they?” He looked toward the kitchen and called out, “Ricardo, would you be so kind as to bring us some ice and towels?”
Ricardo did as instructed, handing them to Ryo, who was sobbing as he took the materials and began cleaning himself up.
“A bit excessive, don’t you think?” Psalter asked.
“He wasn’t talking,” Chloe huffed, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the wall.
“Thanks, Chloe,” I said. “Now…”
I turned my attention back to Tanaka, watching as he shakily applied a makeshift cold compress to his bleeding nose, whimpering as he adjusted it. His head was tilted in a way where he could peer at me out of one eye.
“Start talking,” I said.
“What do you want to know?”
“We came in peace. Why did you try to kill me?”
“You think Dad was ever going to get over what you did to him?” Ryo said, his words slightly muffled by the towel. “You hurt his pride. He doesn’t get over something like that.”
“Then why did he invite me out?”
“He was doing a favor for Mr. Håkansson,” Ryo said. “Dad has a lot of respect for him, and did it because he was asked. He never intended to agree to anything.”
“He didn’t?” I asked, a little surprised. I had a vague idea that Ryo had stepped out of line when deciding to kill me, but I hadn’t realized that Tanaka hadn’t even intended to meet in good faith. That made my stomach turn a little—not because of Tanaka’s subterfuge, but because of Astrid’s part in all this.
I didn’t know her father from a hole in the wall, so Astrid must have used her father’s social credit with Hiro to set up our meeting. Why had she pushed so hard to get me this opportunity? What was in it for her? Surely it wasn’t simple goodwill. I’d been around Astrid long enough to understand that she didn’t do anything out of the kindness of her heart.
Had I avoided owing her a debt because of this little asshole?
That brought up another question—if Tanaka had so much respect for Håkansson, then why the fuck was his son shooting his daughter out of the sky? Surely that would backfire.
“You do know Astrid was on that helicopter too, right?”
“You think I was going to leave any evidence that I had anything to do with it?” Ryo said.
“What do you mean? I was there to see you. Who else were they going to blame?”
“You know how many enemies the Håkanssons have? My family isn’t among them, and Dad is too ‘honorable’ to betray someone like that… no matter how much he hates you. There are no cameras in the cabin, but my phone hasn’t left that place, and I streamed nearly the entire time. As far as they are aware, I was there the whole time with two or three aides. Sure, people might talk, but that’s all it’ll be.”
“And you would have knocked me off, and… what? Gained points with your dad?”
Ryo just blinked, staring at me out of the corner of one eye, mouth open as he breathed loudly.
I had to hand it to him… the rocket launcher attack was heavy handed as fuck, but Tanaka Junior didn’t sound completely devoid of brains. There was enough plausible deniability there that it might have actually worked. At least… I would have had my doubts, no matter how flimsy the alibi.
Something else bothered me about his story, though… something I couldn’t put my finger on.
“So… what? I cross your dad once and I’m on his shit list forever?”
“You insulted his honor! He doesn’t take that lightly.”
“I won a boardroom deal!” I retorted.
“You turned his wife against him!”
Of all the mistakes I’d made since becoming a billionaire, that was probably one that I regretted the most. It had caused me no end of trouble. I had to provide Carla with protection, and apparently a job. I got shot out of the sky and nearly killed by this asshole, and I had to remove Psalter off the hunt for Roger VanCamp to pull my butt out of the fire, giving that asshole time to move locations and sink further into obscurity. Sure… I’d managed to keep my grandfather’s flagship company under my control, but goddamn it had cost me.
He was technically wrong, by the way. Carla had texted me under the pretext of being Astrid. Then, after Tanaka had betrayed me by voting for Kelly Maddox as CEO, Carla offered me her shares in exchange for a date. At the time of the vote, I thought that date would be with Astrid.
As if that would have been much better.
Come to think… Carla Tanaka might have saved me from owing Astrid, too.
All that to say, I never had any intention of turning Tanaka’s wife against him.
Only… by the time I went out on the date, I was so mad at Hiro that I slept with his wife out of pure spite.
Now, Tanaka’s son tried to have me killed. Tanaka’s daughter was probably waiting in the bushes with a poison dart loaded in a blowgun, just waiting for me to walk by. His family was going to be the death of me.
Fine. If that’s the way it was going to be, then I was done with trying to be reasonable. I had worked my ass off to try to convince a bunch of blow-hards that I knew a little about the company, only to have the entire thing come down to some weird chess match between a married couple that hated each other.
It had gotten me nearly killed.
It had forced me to kill others.
And I hated them for that.
I leaned over the table. “He betrayed me, first.”
“My old man doesn’t see it that way! Business is one thing, but you cucked him!”
“Maybe I’ll send him a tape next time I fuck his wife.”
I ignored the flinch from Chloe. I already knew how she would feel about that. Well, she might have had a say in who I slept with a day or two ago, but that ship had sailed.
“He’s going to kill you,” Ryo said.
“He can try,” I said with a shrug, leaning back in my seat.
I stared at him for a long moment while he gazed at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Would he stop this fight if it meant getting you back?” I asked.
“Yes,” Ryo said a little too quickly.
I had my doubts.
“Chloe,” I said.
That was all my bodyguard needed to hear. She took a step forward and ripped the rag from Tanaka’s face. Ice chips flew in every direction, skittering across the floor. No one seemed to notice.
“Noooo!” Ryo screeched, swinging his fists above him in vain as he leaned forward in an attempt to stand up.
Chloe batted his hands out of the way and clamped her hand under his lower jaw, yanking him back into his seat violently enough that its back creaked and the two front legs left the ground.
Tanaka flailed and cried out through a jaw he couldn’t move. “No! Don’t! I’m telling…”
“Hit him in the face again!” I called out over his screeching. “I want to see his fucking teeth on the floor!”
“If you want him to talk,” Chloe said, her voice cold as ice, “I should probably work up to that.” She tucked her middle finger behind her thumb and flicked him on the nose hard enough that it sounded like she’d rapped her knuckles against a pumpkin.
The softer part of me winced at that… it had to hurt.
A wordless wail came from Ryo, and he bucked off his chair.
“I’m telling truth!” he said through clenched teeth, unable to move with Chloe’s hand holding his jaw shut. Evidence of English as a second language bled through thanks to his fear. “I’m telling truth! I’m telling truth! I’m telling truth!”
“I know he’s pissed at you, Ryo! I know you couldn’t call for backup before you killed me!”
“I’m telling—AUCHHH!” He made a wretching sound as Chloe thumped him on the nose again. Harder.
My chair scraped across the floor as I stood up. “He doesn’t seem to have a lot of fatherly sentiment, and he still has a daughter. Why does he need a fucking loser like you?”
Tanaka made a sound that made my blood curdle—he chortled. At least, that’s what it sounded like. It was hard to tell with his jaw clenched shut, laughter bubbling through teeth coated in blood from his nose.
I looked up at Chloe, surprised. “Is he laughing?”
Apparently, Chloe was equally disturbed by the sudden change in behavior. She let go of his jaw, and Tanaka sagged in his chair, his hands shooting to his nose.
“What the fuck is so funny?” I asked.
Ryo chortled. “My sister…”
Chloe and I exchanged glances again.
“You think he’s going to let her take over for him? Have you met my father?”
“Regretfully.”
“He’s the biggest misogynist I know. He’s not going to let a woman anywhere near his business!”
I glanced at Henry. His head was bowed as if he was in deep thought, but when I didn’t respond to Ryo, he cut his eyes up and met my gaze. He sighed and gave a non-committal nod, as if admitting that Ryo was probably right.
So… he is worth something.
“Okay,” I said, dropping into my seat as I thought over his words. “You don’t have any other brothers?”
“No,” Ryo spat. Literally. Congealed blood sputtered down his mouth, and he wiped it away with his sleeve.
Gross.
“So… I need to keep you alive. Easy enough. Can you give me some incentive to make sure I’m doing more than the bare minimum?”
Ryo looked a little desperate around the eyes. Maybe it was just the pain. “What do you want to know?”
“Do you know if your dad had anything to do with my kidnapping?”
“Kidnapping?” Ryo asked.
“Hit him again!”
“No! He didn’t do it!” he said, cringing as Chloe stepped in with her hand raised. She kept her eyes on me, and I gave her a subtle shake of the head.
“How do I know for sure?” I asked.
Roger had been one of the guys responsible for my kidnapping, but he’d been working with Amber, who had been working for someone else. I didn’t think Tanaka actually had a hand in it—we hadn’t been quarreling at the time. Still, he or his son might know who was responsible. I was starting to understand that all these people were more entwined on a level that was borderline incestuous.
“I would have known about it,” Ryo said, eyeing Chloe as he kept his hands raised. “I handle a lot of that kind of shit for him.
“And you don’t know who else might have kidnapped me?”
Ryo peered through his upraised arms at me, sniffled, whimpered in pain, and shook his head. “I swear I don’t.”
Another dead end.
I sighed. “Okay. Fine. Do you know what Brantwood Holdings is?”
It was a name that had only come up once in reference to Amber Bell—the only other person I was sure had been at my kidnapping. She struck me as more of an enforcer than a mastermind, so I was hoping that whoever hired her was the one pulling the strings… because that certainly hadn’t been Roger.
It made sense that the kidnapping was tied to my grandfather because the flash drive they’d been asking me about had turned up in his home office in the Catskills. The only connection Amber had to all this was her client, Brantwood Holdings, who owned a large portion of VistaVision.
It was the only lead I had to find out who else wanted me dead.
Roger had it out for me because I had essentially cuckolded him, and he was losing control over his wife. Tyler, my brother, was a suspect, but I couldn’t draw a connection between him and Amber. He’d had his own representation that day in the board meeting.
I had a lot of time in the woods by myself, trying to piece things together. My conclusions weren’t rock solid, but they were the only thing I had.
And now I was frustrated beyond all belief.
I’d focused on recovering from my time in the woods the entire flight back, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d anticipated getting some answers from a captured Ryo Tanaka.
Instead, all I got was blood all over my floor.
My head dropped back, and I glared at the ceiling as I groaned. “Jesus Christ, Ryo! You’re fucking useless, here!”
“I’m not useless!” Ryo insisted.
“Well, you certainly seem useless,” I retorted. “I’m not feeling particularly generous if you can’t offer me any information. It seems like all I have to do is hand you over to your dad. It doesn’t matter what kind of shape you’re in.”
“I can tell you things about my dad,” Ryo said.
“Like what?” I asked, feeling skeptical.
“I can tell you… if you did something drastic, he might be willing to forget his vendetta.”
“Something drastic?” I studied him for a second. “Like what?”
Ryo looked around the room like he was grasping for straws. “Disappear, maybe. Leave New York. Start a new life.”
“You’re telling me,” I said, making sure I understood properly, “that if I, for all intents and purposes, die, your dad will simply forget about me?”
Ryo shrugged again. “Maybe. This is about his reputation. If everyone sees that you’re afraid of him—and that you gave everything up and left—then Father might feel like his honor has been restored.”
“So I just need to leave everybody… and what? Sell my company?”
“Probably need to leave the country too,” Ryo said.
“Wow. Your dad’s not asking for much, is he?” I said. “Hard pass. Is there anything else?”
Ryo shrugged. “That’s the only thing I can think of.”
I stood up and ran my fingers through my hair, thinking about what to do next.
His claim that his father would want him back seemed legit. It sounded like there wasn’t a whole lot of love lost between Tanaka and his son, but I wouldn’t put it past Tanaka to value him more than his daughter. I didn’t get the impression that he thought much about women. He certainly didn’t sound like much of a husband, according to Carla.
Then again, Carla wasn’t exactly the easiest person to love. None of them were. The daughter was probably some kind of hellspawn with a second set of teeth between her legs.
“Fuck,” I spat, glaring at Ryo.
I leaned against the table, suddenly feeling extremely tired. The entire trip in Norway hadn’t exactly been restful. Erin had put me through my paces over the last couple of hours, and I was still suffering from jet lag.
I needed sleep before I could consider my next move.
I glanced up at Chloe, then Psalter—neither gave me much to work with.
“Fuck!” I repeated and punched the table.
Ryo flinched. I think he was afraid I was about to hit him.
I didn’t have the stomach for it, though. Part of me liked watching Chloe pummel the shit out of him, but I just didn’t have it in me. I’d never felt like much of a fighter. I didn’t like seeing people get hurt. This was probably the closest I’d ever come to enjoying the infliction of pain on someone. Bobbi didn’t count—not really. She got off on it.
But making someone actually bleed? I wasn’t sure I could ever enjoy that—or do the actual torturing.
Maybe that made me a little bit of a coward, but I felt like that could be a good thing—a line in the sand that wouldn’t be easy to cross.
“I’m done with him,” I snarled and stalked toward the kitchen door.
I stopped in the doorway, whirled around, and pointed my finger at him.
“He doesn’t get any of the food Jessica brings you guys. Get him some bread and some goddamn deli meat. I want the carcinogens so high he gets cancer just by looking at it.”
“And no condiments,” I added after another moment’s thought.
Now, that kind of torture was more on brand for me. That, I could stomach. The rest? Well… that’s what I had Chloe and Psalter for.
“Chloe,” I said as I turned and stormed the rest of the way out of the dining room, “knock him out of his chair.”
I heard a loud thud, followed by a second one that sounded suspiciously like a body hitting the floor. Ryo yowled.
“What was that for?” the poor man cried out, sounding like he was speaking around a mouthful of blood.
“You blew up my fucking helicopter!” I yelled from the kitchen.
Okay. So maybe I could dip my toe across the line on occasion… if they deserved it.
Ryo Tanaka deserved it.
I could hear a couple of the guys picking Ryo off the floor, dragging him off somewhere, as Chloe followed me through the door, working her knuckles and rotating her wrist.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yup,” Chloe said.
I sighed and looked toward the dining room.
“What do you think we should do?” I asked.
Chloe ran her hand over her mouth as she gave it some thought.
“My vote,” she said, “is to put a gun barrel in his mouth and give him a full magazine. I rarely get what I want, though.”
Something about her choice of words… was that supposed to be a double entendre for something else? Was that a reference to our agreement to cut things off?
“I knew this German once. Bavarian.” Psalter appeared in the doorway, stirring a cup of coffee with a small spoon. The occasional plink of metal against porcelain accompanied his words like the refrain of some private song.
“We needed him alive for an arms deal in Antwerp, so I kept him fed—bratwurst, pretzels, even let him choose his own wine. Riesling, of course. Always a red flag. I’ve never met a man worth trusting who drinks Riesling.”
He took a casual sip. “Turns out my instincts were right—real talker. Wouldn’t shut up. Gave me the entire history of how the döner kebab came to be wrapped in flatbread. Claimed it was the Germans who insisted on it. Said they have a sacred relationship with bread.”
“What happened to him?” I asked.
Psalter lifted his cup again. “Well, the seller never showed… and I let Johann go.”
Well… that felt anticlimactic.
“He let him go off the back of a moving train,” Chloe snorted.
“Never trust an arms broker who speaks in full paragraphs about anything other than guns,” Henry added.
A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. It wasn’t supposed to be funny—but the way Henry told it…
“All that to say,” he continued, “our guest talks too much. And I empathize with your desire to kill him. But that would be ill-advised.”
“Yeah… thought you’d say that.”
I sighed and pressed my fingers to my eyebrows. “I need some sleep before I can even think about what to do with him.”
“Frankly, I’m surprised you came tonight,” Psalter said.
“I don’t think I would’ve been able to sleep otherwise.”
I looked over my shoulder, toward the dining room again. “This was cathartic—frustrating, but cathartic. I might actually be able to get decent sleep now. Future Marcus can worry about our guest.”
I looked back at Psalter. “Where are we keeping him until I know what to do?”
“Here,” Psalter said.
“Here?” I looked around the room. “Is this equipped for something like that?”
“Yes,” Psalter said. “Mrs. VanCamp and Miss Hoshino had all of these apartments completely secure. Once I told them that you would need a place to hold Tanaka, they made a few special adjustments. It’s perfect for holding someone prisoner.”
I balked.
Helen and Emiko had basically become accomplices to kidnapping. There were probably some international implications, too—but I wasn’t a fucking lawyer. Neither of them had said a word to me about breaking the law. That alone spoke volumes about their loyalty. Helen, I understood better. But Emiko didn’t even know me. Why the hell was she breaking laws for me?
“So, no need to worry about sound… him escaping… anything?”
“No,” Psalter said matter-of-factly. “I’ve had my men go over everything.”
“All right,” I said, impressed. “Just sit on him until I’ve figured out what to do. I’ll let you know something soon.”
“You have me on retainer,” Psalter said. “I’m at your disposal.”
Satisfied that this problem could be safely pushed off till tomorrow, I looked from Psalter to Chloe, nodded, and said, “I’m going to bed. Anyone who gets in my way is fired.”
Friday, September 13th, 9:11 am
Sweat dripped down my forehead, and I swiped it away with the sleeve of my shirt, still holding Tara’s gaze as she circled me. Her bare feet whispered across the mat. Her stance looked relaxed, but I knew better—she was coiled and ready.
I shifted my weight back, loading on my rear foot.
She moved first—a quick jab, testing her opponent. I caught her wrist on the second one. Sloppy, but good enough to try for control.
She slipped free like silk, crouched, pivoted, and swept, nearly taking my legs out from under me.
“Getting faster,” she said, that Australian lilt cutting clean through the morning air.
“Thanks,” I muttered. “I’m surprised. I still feel dead on my feet.”
“At least you’re not dead,” she said, following it with another strike.
She was faster this time. I blocked, ducked, went for a clinch—but she spun under my arm like she’d choreographed it. Before I could recover, she was behind me, leg hooked, arm tight at my hip.
I hit the mat like a stone.
Barely had time to blink before she was straddling me—fluid, composed. Her knees pinned my arms. Her hips settled just above mine. She rested her hands on her thighs as if she were about to enter meditation.
“You done?” she asked.
Her hair was damp with sweat. Her breath was calm. She didn’t even look winded.
Maybe I could’ve bucked her off. But I didn’t. We were almost out of time anyway.
“I think so,” I said. “Didn’t get much sleep last night. We’ll rematch. I’ll kick your ass once I’ve had a full eight hours.”
She gave me a lopsided grin. “I appreciate the humor. Not a lot of students have that kind of levity when they’re on their backs.”
“Well,” I said, “I’ve only been doing this for a couple of weeks. I’m not expecting miracles.”
“Good man.” She bumped her fist against my shoulder.
She slid one long leg over mine, the movement slow and graceful—like a dancer cooling down. She twisted, kneeling beside me as I lay on the mat. She offered a hand. I took it and let her pull me up into a sitting position.
“Jet lag got your sleep buggered?” she asked.
“Not really,” I said.
“Oh—hey, guys!”
Both of us turned. Erin stood near the gym’s door, all curves and confidence. Tight gym shorts painted onto her hips. A baby tee that looked two sizes too small, clinging to the swell of her breasts. The fabric was stark white, her skin a light bronze beneath it.
I caught Tara watching. Her eyes lingered, far longer than necessary, reminding me that she didn’t swing my way. From what I understood, she’d never even kissed a man.
Erin shifted slightly, hands on her hips, turning just enough to show off the lower curves of her ass straining against the hem of those tiny shorts.
If Tara was going to obsess over anyone in this house, Erin was definitely the one to obsess over.
“No... it wasn’t jet lag,” I said, dragging my eyes back to Tara. “It’s mostly her fault.”
I could practically feel the jealousy radiating off Tara. Sometimes I wondered if she had the urge to murder me in hopes of claiming Erin for herself. Maybe I needed a security detail around her.
Tara stood, her eyes still fixed on Erin. “Came to work out?”
Erin strolled toward us, hips swaying. “No. I just need him for a few minutes,” she said, pointing at me.
Tara glanced between us. “Right. Well, then... I think I’ll hit the showers. Same time tomorrow?”
“There’s going to be a party tonight,” I said. “If you think I’m dead today, wait until you see me tomorrow.”
“Jesus, you don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“It’s a small gathering,” I said. “Besides, I’m taking a nap this afternoon.”
Tara shrugged. “Your call, mate. Just don’t go making a habit of it.”
She started toward the door, tossing Erin a radiant smile as she passed. She picked up her bag, gave us one last look, and vanished.
“She wants me bad,” Erin said.
“You think?”
She grinned and launched herself into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist and locking her hands behind my neck. She pressed against me—mouth to mouth, lips melting into mine, tongue immediately demanding passage.
She moaned softly as she ground her hips against me.
“Take off my fucking clothes,” she whispered against my mouth.
“I don’t have time,” I said, more regretfully than I meant to sound.
Oh, my dick was hard. You can’t get thrown around by a goddess like Tara and not feel something—especially with her ass grinding into your crotch. I was ready, and clearly, so was Erin.
Unfortunately, I had a brunch to get to and just over an hour to clean up and get there.
"That’s not what this is," Erin murmured against my lips.
I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I didn’t think too hard about it. If we made it quick, there wasn’t any reason I couldn’t stick around for a few minutes of fun.
I lowered us both onto the mat. Erin reached up and slid my gi off my shoulders, pushing it down my arms until it bunched at my elbows. Her dark eyes roved across my chest as her fingers skimmed my skin, and she bit her bottom lip.
“Fuck,” she whispered. “You really are starting to fill out.”
She grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it over her head in one smooth motion. Her silver hair fanned across the mat as she lay back, bare from the waist up.
“Take my shorts off,” she panted.
I obliged. Kneeling beside her, I hooked my fingers into the waistband and slid them over her hips, down her slender thighs. That was it—just the shorts and the shirt. Now she lay completely naked on the mat, ready to be taken.
But before I could move, she surged forward, kissed me again, and pushed me down onto the mat. She yanked my pants down to my knees, leaving me exposed. My cock stood at full attention, hard and ready.
There was no foreplay. Erin didn’t tease me with her tongue. She didn’t stroke or suck. She simply climbed on top of me, lined her soaked folds up with the head of my cock, and sank down onto it in one smooth motion.
She collapsed forward with a low growl in her throat, her arms outstretched beside my shoulders. Her grin was feral. Her eyes fluttered shut.
I knew Erin was sex-obsessed, but this felt different. What had gotten into her? We’d just fucked for two hours the night before.
She grabbed my face with both hands, brought her lips close, and dragged the flat of her tongue across my mouth. Then she sat straight up and planted her palms on my chest as she started to ride.
Her small frame bounced on my cock, taking every inch of me with each downward thrust. Her movements were slow and exaggerated. She arched her back, pressing her shoulders behind her and lifting her chest, putting everything on display. Her flexibility was obscene, her hair tumbling down her back like liquid silver under the gym’s overhead lights.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Not until I noticed her gaze flicker—just briefly—toward the gym door.
I wouldn’t have caught it if I hadn’t been watching her so closely.
Chancing a glance over at the gym door, I spied Tara peering around the side of the door, watching us.
More specifically, watching Erin.
Her dark brown hair hung across most of her face, making it impossible to tell her expression as she watched us in the throes of passion. There was no mistaking, though. She was enthralled.
Before I could register much else, Erin dropped prone across my body, her hips grinding against mine as she brought her face close enough to mine that she could whisper. “I took her clothes out of her bag while you guys were fighting. Tossed them behind some of the equipment near the door.”
I felt my eyes grow wide.
She giggled at my reaction. “Just part of the plan, boss. You’re gonna be the first dick she’s ever had.”
“Oh fuck,” I murmured. It suddenly made so much more sense to me now.
“I can’t wait to lick her off your cock,” she whispered.
I suddenly felt my cock swell from the images Erin was painting in my mind. My grip on Erin’s hips tightened, and I began driving into her with more force.
“Hey,” she said, some of her amusement fading. “I hate to say it, but you shouldn’t cum right now.”
“You’re joking,” I said back quietly.
“She’s watching me,” Erin whispered. “You want her to get distracted by you right now?”
“Goddammit…”
She leaned in closer, her nose nuzzling against mine as we drove our groins against each other. “I’ll make it up to you later, boss… promise.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that,” I growled.
Erin straightened once again and continued bouncing up and down on my cock, her breasts giving way to the gravity, but not as much as they should have.
I swear… science needed to study her tits.
“Ahh!” Erin gasped, her breaths coming out in short, loud bursts. She was still being performative, but she was also actually approaching a genuine orgasm, and I did everything in my power to get her there. After all… I needed to go soon.
Also, this time, I wasn’t allowed to shoot my load deep into Erin Malik’s pussy. That meant I had to pleasure as quickly as possible. Erin turned me on at a level few women could achieve, and I couldn’t just turn that part of my brain off… especially when she was massaging my organ with her tight cunt.
However, in less than two minutes, I managed to produce fireworks inside my little assistant. She bucked against me, her small fists beating on my chest as she arched her back, thrusting her tits into the air while crying out in absolute pleasure. It was performative, but it was also real.
God, she was beautiful.
She collapsed on top of me and immediately wrapped her arms around my neck, nuzzling my ear as she whispered, “Just give it a minute. She’ll either try to sneak in and grab her clothes while we’re distracted, or just head back to her apartment.”
We spent the next few minutes simply nuzzling against each other, something I usually enjoyed without reservation. This time, it was a little different thanks to having an audience, and the fact that my cock remained hard as it sat nestled inside of her.
After about two minutes, I turned my head to bring my lips near her ear. “You’re really committed to this, aren’t you?”
“I want to feed her to you,” Erin whispered back as she slowly writhed on top of my body.
“Erin,” I said, enjoying her teasing, but also getting frustrated with the lack of relief. “You realize I’m taking you with me to the shower, right? I can’t just leave the house with a hard-on like this.”
“You’re the boss,” Erin chuckled as she nuzzled my ear.
I smiled in amusement. “And you just might be the devil.”
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