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He cries out and reaches into his other pocket. His fear radiates off of him, and I fucking feed on it. I notice Rory has moved away from us a good twenty feet. Good. I don’t wish for her white suit to suffer the aftermath of what’s to come.
I hear the crinkle of paper before I even see it. Denny winces as he removes the folded sheets of twenty-dollar bills.
“The fuck is this?” I shout, snatching it from his hand. “Stealing from me now, are you? After all I’ve done for you?”
Denny was nothing before I discovered him, hungry and helpless on the streets. I pulled him from his pathetic life, gave him clean clothes and a fucking job, and this is how he repays me?
No.
No one fucks with Rogan Dixen and lives to tell the tale.
“You fucking disgust me,” I seethe before I take a step back and pull the trigger.
The sound of the shot echoes off the cinder block walls, sounding as though I fired several rounds. I hear Rory shriek, her hands coming up to cover her mouth in surprise, or maybe horror. Doesn’t matter really. All that matters is she knows who the fuck is in charge here.
Denny’s body crumples to the ground, his head mostly missing, blood everywhere.
“Someone get over here and clean this up,” I bark. “You know what to do with the body.”
Stepping over Denny’s corpse, I holster my weapon and continue my perusal of production. Everything else seems to be in order. Stacks of smaller bills have already hit quota, while the larger ones, which take a little longer, are between seventy and eighty percent filled.
I round the next corner and see the satisfied faces of the men we are meeting with today. Alistair says something to them, and they smile before following Maddox.
I meander after them at a slow pace, leaving the main warehouse for another hallway in which meeting rooms are set up. The door closes behind them, but I walk past it and into another. Rory follows behind me as the light flicks on.
I immediately begin to strip, wanting my bloodstained clothes off as soon as possible. I can hear the woosh of the door shutting behind us, sealing Rory and me in the space.
Alone.
Oh, the things I could order her to do.
Dirty things.
Depraved things.
I could point my gun at her for added fear—or added arousal, as I think it would be in her case. Rory responds to power and dominance.
“Sit,” I bark, jutting my chin toward the leather chair situated in the corner of the room.
Rory jumps at my order but hustles to comply. I watch with hungry eyes as she keeps her gaze on me while lowering herself down and crossing her toned legs. The action of her placing her forearms on the armrests causes her blazer to gape, and the hint of a rosy areola peeks out from behind the white coat.
My cock notices too, and hardens almost instantly, and I have to swallow down the desire to tear her fucking clothes from her body, throw her over the nearest table, and impale her cunt on my cock.
Instead, I wait, smothering my desire to elicit hers. I toss my coat on the table then begin to work on my shirt.
“Ms. O’Brien, get the hot water going in the sink over there.” Rory follows my gaze and stands, hips swaying as she messes with the faucets. I carefully remove my cufflinks, placing them down, then do the same with my Rolex before unbuckling my belt.
Rory turns back to watch as I slip the belt from its loops. Just to gauge her reaction, I fold the belt in half and snap it on the table. Even in the dim light, I can see her pupils dilate. So I push it a step further. The excitement and adrenaline from killing only adds to my already mounting desire for her.
I prowl closer, and she steps back until her spine connects with the wall behind her and there’s nowhere else to go. Her chest heaves as I close the distance and bring up the belt.
I rub it along her jawline, then down her neck, sliding the leather along the exposed part of her breast. Leaning in, I whisper, “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Hellcat? Do you have any idea what I could do to you?”
She doesn’t answer, but her eyes and heavy breathing belie her lack of response. I slide the leather inside her blazer, feeling it bump into her peaked nipple. Groaning against her neck, I glide it over the hard tip, my dick throbbing when she gasps and her body trembles under my touch.
Everything that is Rory assaults me. The way her hair smells like flowers, the way her skin scents of vanilla, the fresh crispness of her minty toothpaste…
Extending my tongue, I lick a line up her neck, tasting her skin, then slide my teeth back down before pushing myself off of her.
