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As soon as his finger hits me, I grab his wrist. The movement is swift and hard.
He growls, "You betrayed Natalie; you betrayed us," and he pushes me back, freeing his wrist from my grasp.
The force of his thrust causes me to stumble and fall back against my desk, and now my heart is kicking in my chest. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins, and without thinking, I ball my hand into a tight fist. I lunge at him, and throw my fist into his jaw. His reaction is instantaneous and in a split second, I am wrestling him to the ground. He's stronger than I anticipated, but I have the upper hand. I'm on top of him, his legs pinned underneath mine. He's breathing hard into my neck, our muscles pressed into each other.
He grunts, struggling to get out from underneath me, and I watch as his mouth parts open, ever so slightly. The movement almost seems too delicate. Waves of lust and violence electrify my entire body and I feel my cock hardening on top of him. What's come over me? The sensation of it all causes me to grind my body into his, harder now. Can he feel my hardness in his thigh? I wonder. I fight the urge to bring my mouth to his … and then what? Kiss him? Bite him?
All of these thoughts cease when as we wrestle, a chair is knocked over. The commotion reverberates throughout the office and we hear CJ run in.
"What's going on?" she cries out, horror and confusion flooding her face. And behind her, a security guard runs in.
He's overweight and red in the face, and I can't help but think he looks like an angry tomato.
"Mr. Hardman, that's enough! We need you to leave this office immediately! Or we'll be forced to call the police," he shouts with as much authority as he can muster.
I release my grip on Sloane, and we both part ways, standing up and brushing ourselves off. We're both breathing heavy, refusing to look at each other. Sloan clenches his jaw again, and without saying another word, he leaves my office just as quickly as he came.20NatalieThis can’t be happening.
Everything I’ve worked so hard for is at risk. My prototype, my company. All of it is on the line now.
The moment I knew I had secured the investment I needed, I rolled all my profits into developing my flagship prototype. And now that the banks are retracting their financing, everything might go up in flames. Lovely.
Fuck. What do I do?
“Hey, you okay?” Sloane asks, sitting down on the couch by my side. There’s worry in his eyes as he looks at me, and I’m betting that I have an expression of pure shock on my face right now.
“I can’t believe Drake would do this to me… I just can’t,” I start, balling my hands into fists as a blend of anger and sadness courses through my veins. First my mother, now this. “Not after all we’ve been through…” I whisper, feeling more betrayed than I've ever felt in my entire life. This hurts, it really does.
“Fuck him, Natalie. Just fuck that guy,” Sloane says, placing his hand on top of mine and trying to force a smile. “I’ll figure this out. I’ll find a way to get you the money you need.”
“Thank you.” I offer him a pale but genuine smile, even though his words offer nothing but hollow comfort. With the banks out of the equation, there’s no way Drake would secure the amount of money Dirty ‘Lil Angels needs right now. “Thank you for telling me about Drake … and thank you for being here,” I continue, squeezing his hand.
My stepbrother might be an unrepentant asshole, but he’s so much more than just that. Under that tough surface there’s a caring man, one that’d go to the end of Earth just to protect the ones he loves.
He strokes my cheek with the back of his hand, smiling, and I feel a deep sadness taking over me. My brother was supposed to be the asshole, not my stepdad. And now look at me, betrayed by Drake and being comforted by Sloane.
I know that my mother is involved in this somehow. This whole thing reeks of her. I just don’t know why Drake would take her side. He doesn’t love her, and their marriage was just a thing of convenience, the way I see it. So why? Why would he stab me in the back like this?
“I know you’re thinking of him, ‘sis,” Sloane says, and I place my hand on top of his and close my eyes, allowing his deep serious voice to calm me down. “But you gotta let it go. We gotta let it go.”
“Thank you,” I say again, looking into his eyes. I lean toward him and brush my lips against his, his scent and flavor blanketing my mind and easing all the worry floating there. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
