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“It should get better, and in the meantime, we can have phone sex whenever you want.” A sexy smirk spreads across his lips.
“Whenever I want, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am. I don’t care if I’m in the middle of a meeting in front of a room full of men in suits. If you need me to make you come, that’s what I’ll do.”
My cheeks warm as a small giggle leaves my lips. “Back up, big guy. I don’t think that will be necessary, but I’ll definitely take you up on nightly orgasms.”
He chuckles. “You sure? It could be rather fun.”
I laugh loudly. “Yeah, I’m sure. You have some secret, kinky side I don’t know about?”
He grins. “Oh, we’re just getting started, baby. I have a feeling you’re going to love every kinky, dirty thing I want to do to you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Andrew
The metal door closes behind me with a loud clank. The room only contains a single table with three chairs. All empty. My eyes shift around the room briefly, taking in the light gray walls. I could place my arms out wide and touch each wall at the same time.
I’ve never enjoyed how cold and barren these rooms are. Claustrophobic even. I sigh, finding myself even more frustrated now than I was two days ago when I found that damn letter in my door.
Unfortunately, the security team found nothing of use on the cameras. It picked up a man entering the hallway from a service elevator in the back. He knew exactly where those damn cameras were, keeping his head down and covered with a ball cap the entire time.
They told me they saw no distinguishable features. Then I demanded they send me the footage directly so I could discern for myself. They were fucking right. You can’t see shit.
Whoever it was knew what they were doing. They got in, placed the note, and got the hell out. Getting footage from any nearby businesses to see if they caught the guy leaving has been a slow process. I’ve called in favors left and right, just hoping to catch a break.
I’ve spent the past two days racking my brain for what that damn note meant. However, there are only so many possibilities, which is what has led me here. To him.
I can’t risk anyone finding out I’m looking into this. Hell, to come here today I had to have a guard on staff help me fudge the sign-in papers. I don’t want a record of me visiting this slimy fuck.
I blow out a deep breath as I pace the small room. One, two, three, four, five, six steps. Then I turn and walk to the other side, same thing. I want to get this over with. I want to be in fucking Fraser with Charlie, wrapped up in her arms. My cock in between her sweet legs.
I don’t know what I’ll do when all of this is finally over. It’s a weight that’s hung over my head for so long that I don’t know what I’d feel like without its oppressive claws digging in and choking me.
I look down to check my watch for the third time since coming into this gloomy room. It’s been ten minutes, and they still haven’t brought him to me.
Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted Shane. He’s always done right by me though, and he’s the only guy in here I would come to with this request.
He only asked one question when I met with him yesterday at a small coffee shop close to here. I didn’t want to do it over the phone. The longer this goes on, the more paranoid I become.
“Is this life or death?”
His question took me by surprise, but I only had to think about my answer for a split second before giving a confident, “Yes.”
That was it. That was all he needed from me. We spent the rest of the time coming up with a plan to get me in here under the radar.
I rub my hands together, eager to get this over with. I run through the precautions we took one more time before deciding that our plan was solid. This will work. The delay must be for some other reason. Those thoughts continue to plague me as another five minutes pass.
My head snaps up when the metal door screeches open. The jangle of metal chains meets my ears. They dangle from the shackles on both his wrists and ankles and connect to the belt around his waist. The orange jumpsuit a hideous orange.
I remain standing as they walk him into the room. His gait is off, restricted to barely a shuffle by the short length of chain between his feet. I school my features and turn on the persona I’ve become accustomed to when I step into a courtroom.
It’s taken years to cultivate that version of myself, to mold myself into the man who stands in this room today. Honestly, I’ve never liked this version of me, but I did what needed to be done. It’s a sacrifice I’m still making.
It’s showtime.
I slam the glass down on the bar top; the bourbon sloshing over my hand slightly. I sigh as I look down at the perfectly good bourbon wasted. At least the glass was almost empty.
