Page 93 of At His Beck & Call

The waiter brings our bill, and Noah insists on paying, tipping generously. He even helps me into my coat at the door and holds it open for me as we leave.

My life would be a lot simpler if I liked him.

“Can I drop you off somewhere?” he asks. The snow is much heavier than I had expected, and I feel a pulse of worry that I’m taking Henry on a bus ride in this mess. I should never have come on this date; it was selfish and unnecessary.

“Or I could call you a cab?” Noah says again, sticking his hand out as a yellow taxi appears as if by magic.

“That’s okay, I only have to go a few streets over to get Henry. You should take this one, though—it’s so cold out.”

Noah looks crestfallen as he motions to the taxi driver to wait. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, it’s just a quick walk.”

I’m relieved when he agrees and gives me an awkward hug. It looks as if he might want to kiss me goodbye, but I lean away from him to make it clear that’s not what I want, and he gives me a half smile as he gets into the taxi.

I watch it drive away, a profound sense of gratitude coming over me that the night is over. Huddling into my coat, I pull out my phone, double-checking which direction I need to go in, and set off up the street.

That’s when a hand emerges from the alleyway beside me, and I’m dragged backward into the dark.

I don’t even have time to scream before a familiar scent pervades my nostrils; it’s the cologne Oliver wears, and I’m addicted to the smell of it.

I’m shoved hard against the wall as Oliver looms over me, the soft yellow light of the streetlamp above illuminating his sharp features, mouth twisted into a snarl.

My joy at seeing him is quickly extinguished by fear.

Is he going to fire me for going on a date with someone from the firm?

“What the fuck?” he grinds out, his hands gripping my upper arms. There is nothing of the composed control I’m accustomed to in his office. He’s furious, and for the first time, I see real anger in his eyes.

I try to pull away, but he drags me into the darkest part of the alley, where we can’t be seen from the street. In the blackness with the snow falling all around, I feel as if we’re embraced by the weather, the cold and snow making my breath hitch as he pushes me against the wall, and I can feel the cold through my coat.

“Were you on a date with Noah?” he asks, his voice cold and full of rage.

He uses his height and strength to pin me to the wall.

“I was,” I say. “He asked me out when I first started working at the firm.”

“And you didn’t think that might be a conflict of interest?” he hisses.

“To what?”

His eyes flash as he pushes his hips into mine, and I gasp, the cold air burning my throat as his hard cock grinds against me.

“Tothis, Lissa. To the fact that I fuck you every goddamn day and you belong to me.”

“Ibelongto you?” I bite out. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

“You’re mine,” he says, his fingers running down my thigh and tugging at the hem of my skirt. It’s so alarming and unlike him to be so forceful that I don’t even protest.

The thought of him being so turned on and angry that he has to take me right now is thrilling beyond words.

“You will not see him again,” he says, his hands ripping at my underwear, as my head falls back against the brick.

I should stop him. I know I should. But I want it just as much. I’ve been thinking about this all night.

“You can’t… Ah! Tell me what to do,” I attempt as his fingers dip inside me, even as I can hear the footsteps of pedestrians a few feet away. With a growl, he puts his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them before moving them down between my legs again and pushing inside me without warning.

Somehow, the burn of it makes me yearn for more, and I part my legs as I press against him, his mouth finding my neck, sucking at my skin, licking at me, and biting too.