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My taste didn't usually run to black wolves, but Reed Quinn could do some pretty amazing things with his tongue.
What? Even I had moments of weakness.
I grabbed my phone and unlocked the door. The moment I opened it, I wished I'd gone for the turtleneck and long skirt.
Four sets of eyes turned to drink in the sight of me. Blue, hazel and two sets of brown, they all had the same hungry look in them.
Hungry like the wolf.
Maybe I could go for one more round with all four of them, right here right now. Imagine the amount of orgasms I could have.
I swallowed and pushed away the thought as hard as I could.
Ben felt it, I saw it on his face. And then, of course, he was worried about me.
Fucking bond. The sooner I got the thing broken, the better. I would make that phone call when I got home to my place.
"Wow," Cooper said, open admiration on his face. "You look hot."
"Yeah, babe," Hutton said. "Fuck me upside down, you're gorgeous."
"I'm also the boss," I said coolly. "Something you all seem to have forgotten. Close your mouths."
Four sets of jaws snapped shut.
"Ben," I continued smoothly, "get some rest. You too, Hutton. Cooper, I'm sure Jake has assigned you duties? Good, make sure they're done. Are you coming, Jake?" Without waiting for a response, I swept towards the elevator.
I knew they were exchanging glances behind my back. Let them. They were my employees and I had overstepped with them. That changed as of now.
"Um, okay boss." Jake hurried after me. While I was getting ready he had taken some time to pull on a faded grey T-shirt. He might have even washed his face.
Sometimes I envied guys. Although there was nothing to stop me from wearing jeans and T-shirts and having my hair cut short. Nothing except I wouldn't feel like me. What can I say? Once a high strung, high maintenance girl, always a high strung, high maintenance girl.
"Are you okay, El?" he asked after the elevator doors slid shut.
"I'm about the same as the last hundred times people asked me that," I snapped.
I sighed and held up a hand before he could respond. "I'm fine. No, I'm not fine. I will be fine when Alistair Dagen is dead, and all of his shitty henchholes with him. Can you dig me a shallow grave for them? I'll dance on it."
"If you want a shallow grave for them, then a shallow grave is what you get," Jake said. "Just say the word. I'll organise the pack and we'll go after him tonight if you want."
"You know where he is?" I asked.
He sighed in frustration. "No, not as of this exact moment. If I had to guess, I would say he's not far away. He would want to keep an eye on the shit he is pulling. You know what they say about people always returning to the scene of the crime."
"Isn't that just on TV?" I asked. I had never gone back to any of the places where I killed people personally. But then again, the place where Helen Dagen's house once stood is now a women and children's crisis centre. The land was donated by an 'anonymous benefactor.' Every year, I send them funds to keep operating. It was a pet project of mine, so to speak, designed to help families stay together and away from abuse.
Jake shrugged. "I don't know. I've never gotten very far away from the scenes of mine."
"I suppose that's true." I watched him in the corner of my eye. "Maybe you should. You could take a break too, when all of this is over. Go to Tasmania for a holiday, or something."
He put a hand on my cheek and turned me to face him. "Don't."
I tried to keep from flinching. "Don't what?"
"Don't do that whole, 'go off and meet a nice girl' thing. We had that conversation before. You know I'm not going anywhere. I don't want anyone else."
"You know what he did to me," I said. I told him about the surgery during the drive. That was all though. I couldn’t bring myself to mention what happened in the bathhouse. None of it.
