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Alistair reaches over to turn the page, and I start to sit up, but he simply grabs my leg and lifts it, shifting his hand higher and higher until he almost touches my bare pussy. Rogan chuckles and flips the page, and Alistair places my leg back down and gets back to work while I sit there, shaking with the strength of my desire from that one touch alone. From the sensation of his large, smooth hands against my skin, close to where I needed him to be. My pussy is wet as hell, my heart is racing, and embarrassment heats my cheeks as I wonder if my cream will be on their papers when I stand.
Well, fuck them if it is. It’s their fault.
I’m made to sit here without so much as a word directed at me for another ten minutes. The seconds tick by slowly as I shift and wiggle, my legs going numb from dangling. Rogan must notice, and without a word, he rounds the desk and sits in the chair, dragging it closer to the desk and placing my feet on his thigh. My torso is now turned toward Alistair, and my bottom half is angled toward Rogan, who can no doubt see up the dress, even with my thighs clenched together.
I glance over to see him staring right up the dress. He meets my eyes without shame and strokes my ankles before he turns to Alistair. “What if we employed sales and discounts to get the revenue up before we opened the new…”
I stay as still as I can as they talk for another twenty minutes, that desire still burning within me, the low embers of a dying fire. Just when I feel normal again, Rogan strokes my skin with his rough fingers and makes it burn higher.
Finally, they fucking finish, and I sigh, knowing they will dismiss me now, thank God.
“Thank you. You may go back now,” Rogan states and pushes my feet from his knees. I hop down and stumble on numb legs, but he catches me. His hands land on my hips to steady me, the heat of his touch burning through the dress as I meet his eyes. I swallow at the lust I see there, duck my head, and rush from the office. Desire surges through me, demanding I go back and let him finish what his gaze promised. Alistair’s laugh chases me the whole way to my desk.
Fuck me, how am I going to survive today, never mind this job?
* * *
As predicted,the tasks got worse and worse. Like organizing Rogan’s bookshelves while they were all eating dinner in there so they could stare up my dress while I worked. Or fetching Alistair some condoms and cleaning the inside of Maddox’s car. He even inspected it, standing behind me as I was bent over wiping down the dash. His eyes singed holes through the dress and scorched my exposed pussy until my eyes nearly burned from desire and embarrassment.
Thank God I shaved my business yesterday…
Luckily, all three have been in a meeting for over an hour, which means I get a break. I down some coffee and redo my makeup, trying to fill myself back up with confidence, knowing this isn’t the end of the day. They want to break me, I know that. I can’t let it happen.
When I feel more human, I head back to my desk and sort through the folders Maddox asked me to file, dumping spare papers on my desktop in no particular order. I’m about halfway through the stack when one catches my eye, making me frown.
The date is from before I started, and the time is almost one AM for some gas, but unlike his normal receipts, this one is on the other side of town, and it has been crumpled like he didn’t mean for this to get in here. The date though…
It’s the date Bronson asked me to look out for, I’m sure of it.
For some reason, it seems important, so I glance around to make sure they aren’t watching, snap a quick picture, and forward it to Bronson before tucking it into the folder like I didn’t even see it.
I’ve just finished the folders, closing and stacking them together, when the comm goes off again. It’s almost six now, so they must be close to finishing for the day, at least I hope so anyway. I want to go home, down some wine, and moan out my frustrations to Mischief…and maybe burn this outfit.
“Rory, get your fine ass in here,” Alistair orders. Knowing this will be bad because all three are together, I ready myself and head into Maddox’s office where they’re gathered. Instantly, all three eyes look up and lock on me. I shiver under their hungry, dominant gazes as they stare at me like they own me.
Which, I guess, they do.
“Yes, sir?” I ask to be polite. Maddox’s eyes flare as I stand still for their perusal.
“We have a bet that you won’t dance for us,” Alistair starts, and I narrow my eyes. “I bet my car you would because you don’t like to lose, so dance, won’t you? Feel free to strip as you do,” he instructs with a chuckle.
I blame being tired, annoyed, and just basically done with their shit—I explode.
“Dance for you? Fucking dance for you? I’m not a goddamn stripper!” I snap and then glance at Rogan. “Nor a goddamn paperweight.” I glare at Maddox then. “Or something to take your frustrations out on! I’m a human goddamn being, not just some tits and ass! You are the worst fucking bosses I’ve ever had, and if you could ever get your head out of your rich, stuck-up asses for one second, you might find that not only are you making me miserable, but most of your staff too,” I snarl, chest heaving as I step closer. Their eyes are wide with shock, but I can’t stop now. “Wear this, pet. Do this, pet. Drive this, pet. Do everything we say, pet, before we even think of it, or else we’ll make sleazy remarks or make you dress like a fucking hooker! Well, I’ve had enough. Start acting like fucking men, not dogs!” I almost scream, holding my arms out wide. I’m breathing rapidly, and my eyes are narrowed as fury flows from me, but once it’s all out, I swallow hard.
Shit, what did I just do?
Panic fills me. Oh God, they’re going to fire me. I’m going back to jail, and Mischief will be alone, as will my brother. Eyes wide, I stare at them, my breath caught in my throat as I wait for their reaction. Maddox starts laughing, the sound so loud and sudden, I actually step back. Rogan grins, and Alistair hands money to Maddox. “You were right. About time you stood up to us, Rory,” he remarks, amusement lacing his tone.
Maddox pockets the cash and leans back in his chair, his eyes sparkling with interest like I have finally done something worth looking at.
“Erm, what?” I ask dumbly. “So you’re not firing me?” I almost squeak.
“See you tomorrow, Ms. O’Brien,” Rogan replies, still grinning.
Unsure what the hell just happened, I spin on my heel and march from the office, grabbing my bag and phone before hurrying to the elevator. Seriously, what the hell just happened? They bet on how long it would take me to call them on their shit? They wanted me to snap?
I’m not fired? I’m not going to jail?
