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Samuel…
“Speaking of blood,” the deep voice of the dark-haired man beneath me demands my attention, “you’ve ruined my suit, and I’m going to expect you to pay for that.”
“Do you take check or card?” My voice oozes with insolence and sarcasm.
“Neither.” He fists the hair at the back of my head so hard my scalp burns, the pain radiating around my head so violently that stars flutter across my vision. Yanking my head back and forcing me to look at him, a wicked smile spreads across his face as he says, “This establishment only takes pussy and ass.”
“Are you seriously going to fuck her while I drive us down the highway?” the blond questions. “It’s bad enough she’s fucking naked on your lap in broad daylight.”
A devilishly dark laugh vibrates against me from the man holding me tightly to him.
“I’ll wait,” His hands roam over my body, and a sickening feeling grows in my stomach at his touch. “We’re only a few minutes from the boss’s place.”
“Enough time to do it twice, I’m guessing,” I quip, and I can’t help but smirk when the driver doesn’t hide his laughter.
I’ve dealt with enough men like him to know how they function. Turned on or angry. The muscle-clad asshole isn’t capable of dealing with both feelings at the same time. And in the end, one is going to be much easier for me to endure.
At least in the long run.
His huge, meaty paw of a hand slaps my cheek so hard that the sound reverberates around the car. It’s not enough for him, and he hits me again before gripping my face with enough force to bruise my cheeks and jaw.
“You’re a real mouthy fucking bitch.” His spittle lands on my face as the angered words spew from his mouth.
“So, I’ve been told,” I shrug. “Your mom probably should’ve been a little mouthier, if you know what I mean.”
The blond laughs uncontrollably.
Who doesn’t love a well-timed, ‘your mom should’ve swallowed,’ joke?
Apparently, the butt of the joke.
Throwing me forward, he slams my face against the dashboard with such force that I almost black out. He shoves my near-limp body to the floor between his feet and begins undoing his pants.
“Let’s see how much shit you talk when you have my cock shoved in your mouth.” He fumbles with his zipper as we pull to a stop.
“You can’t afford to put your cock in her, Adam,” a familiar woman’s voice shouts from the elevator bank beside the car. “Unless you plan on working for free, I suggest you tuck that back into your pants.”
I release a heavy sigh of relief as he zips back up. Pulling me back into his lap, he whispers, “She won’t always be around. I intend to take my payment.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
GRANT
“Samuel,.” I lightly slap my palm against his face, trying to stir him. Feeling along his neck, I struggle to find a pulse. When I finally do, it’s so light and thready that I nearly miss it.
The sound of Abigail pressing buttons on her phone draws my attention. “Don’t.”
“We need to call for help,” she stares down at his lifeless body and the pool of blood I’m kneeling in.
“There’ll be too many fucking questions if they come here. Michales is going to have a fucking field day.”
Pulling at his arms, I drag his listless body to a seated position. “Help me get him up and to the car, kitten.”
We both pull an arm over our shoulders and practically drag him to the front door. Stepping over the threshold, thunder cracks across the sky, and a light rain begins to fall.
The fucking luck.
As I hold the brunt of his weight, Abigail opens the passenger door to my Maserati parked out front, and we slide him into the car.
