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“What the fuck are you talking about?” She steps back a bit at my tone, but doesn’t back down, holding her chin up a fraction higher.
“I have to go back, I can’t leave the other girls there.” She darts a glance at Echo and then down, before looking up to meet my eyes once more.
“You don’t owe them anything,” I tell her, and her lips tighten.
“I owe them everything.”
My jaw ticks and I look over each of them.
Motherfucking cunts, the lot of them.
“You all may not fucking like it, but I’m one of them now. I did what I had to do, am still fucking doing it,” I say to Kinsey, before I turn to Kill, “I respect you enough not to say anything about this bullshit you’ve brought to my door today, but I won’t be a part of your fucking schemes. Now, take your bitch and get the fuck out of here before I do something I regret.”
Echo glowers at me but before she can say anything, Kill leans forward to whisper something in her ear. Her eyes flare at me as he steps back. After a moment, Echo takes one step toward me, looking me up and down until her eyes land first on the burn on my face before meeting my eyes.
She chuckles, an unpleasant sound, as she shakes her head.
“You’re exactly the monster you look, aren’t you?”
I feel the low blow in my chest, but don’t react as she turns on her heel to walk out, Kill only a few steps behind her.
I finally turn back to Kinsey and am a bit amazed to see the rage in her eyes. She’s such a sweet and timid thing, it’s a strange look for her. Her tiny hands are clenched into fists and although having any woman pissed at me is far from fucking fun, she looks pretty fucking stunning angry like this.
“What? You got something to say too?” I spit at her and her eyes narrow but she says nothing, walking past me toward her room. She stops only a few steps from the door, but doesn’t turn. I think she’s going to say something but she only sighs, shaking her head before going in and closing the door behind her.
If it's not one thing with this chick, it’s another. And though I’m no fucking virgin, whores don’t really prepare you for the reality that is a woman in your life.
Because I am not fucking prepared for this. Any of it.
I have so little time before I will need to step it the fuck up and really play the part the Iron Elite expects of me. Insane revenge schemes, crying women, and general fucking drama is all the last shit I need right now.
Despite all that though, the look of pure fucking disappointment in Kinsey’s eyes won’t leave my mind.
I’ve never been anyone's idea of a hero, but I’ll never forget the way Kinsey looked at me before. Like her knight in fucking shining armor, not the monster everyone else takes me for.
And you go and prove them all right, time and time again.
Although I should get the fuck out of here, I find my feet taking me toward my office and to the bottle of tequila I know is stashed there. It’s on autopilot that I pop the lid, not caring when it rolls under my desk, and lower it by several inches in one swig. The burning down my throat and into my gut isn’t as bad as the knot of shit already sitting there. I swallow down the tequila until it begins to burn the guilt, softening the edges at least for now.
The bottle is more than half finished, and I find it harder to sit upright in my chair when a small creak tells the door to my office is opening. Squinting with one eye, I look up enough to see Kinsey step in, closing the door behind her.
“Wha’tredoing?” I slur, trying to narrow my eyes enough to get a better view of her. When I do, my eyes open wide.
She’s wearing only a white cotton towel and must have just used the locker showers because droplets of water fall off her in her wake. Her short silver hair clings to her face and I have to blink several times to really take in what I’m seeing.
With slow measured steps, she moves toward me. My jaw drops as she removes the towel only a few feet from me. My dick gets rock-hard instantly and the bottle of tequila falls from my hand, forgotten.
Moving around the desk, she leans down and grasps both arms of my chair to pull it out. A few bruises on her hips look like finger marks, and I bring a hand down to trace them. A smile curves on her lips as she skirts away from my touch. Kneeling a foot in front of me, she looks up at me with those big, doe eyes, and it takes everything in me not to grab her and throw her down on this desk to claim her.
“Tonight, it’s my turn,” she says, licking her lips as she deftly undoes the button on my jeans. A moment later, my solid cock springs free and I let out a groan.
My vision blurs slightly but I can feel everything as she reaches forward to take it in her hands, the soft touch almost too much to bear. She lets her hand work my shaft slowly, as though savouring the feel of it. Closing my eyes, I put my head back and lose myself to the sensation.
I should probably wonder why the fuck she’s here, but the second she wraps those sweet lips around my head, I know I don’t fucking care. Her tongue twirls around the tip, exploring the small grooves as she works her mouth down.
I moan and bring my hand up to grasp her hair, easing her further down. She gags slightly but recovers, and I don’t push her, just letting my fingers move through the damp locks as she finds her groove.
The combination of her small hand and mouth working me at the same time is too much and already, I can feel my balls tightening.
