Defiant Queen Page 10

  Or maybe the idea of bolt cutters hasn’t crossed her mind yet. That’s probably the more likely answer.

  The beacon shows she’s still in the building, but not in her basement office. I manipulate the app to give me a better view of the building. Technology is a magical thing, because now I know she’s in the restaurant.

  I glance at the time. It’s almost seven thirty.

  Snatching my second cell off the desk, the one I use to communicate with Keira and no one else, I shoot her a text.

  Mount: You need to be on your way out the door in two minutes or V will be in to collect you.

  I wait to see some indication that she’s read the text, but there’s nothing.

  Fuck two minutes. I don’t wait for anyone, and Keira should have been home hours ago, as far as I’m concerned.

  Switching phones again, I give new orders to V.

  Mount: Go up to the restaurant. Find out what’s keeping her and escort her down. I’m done waiting.

  V: Will do, boss.

  Mount: Let me know when you have her secured and are on your way back.

  After my conversation with J, and the suggestion that Keira has become a weakness that others will surely notice, I’m even more on guard. The car that V drives her to and from work in every day has bullet-resistant glass and is armor plated. It’s heavy as fuck, which is why I never drive it. I value speed, power, and aesthetics, and have an extensive collection of both supercars and American muscle. I don’t discriminate; I just collect them all.

  Someone would have to have a death wish to try to take me out. I know the cartel is unhappy, but I also have information that would destroy them from the inside out, leaving them struggling to pull themselves together as an organization for years. I’m not stupid. I don’t make a move without considering all the consequences.

  Or, at least, I never did until her.

  J was right about one thing. Keira is different. She fights me at every turn. Her submission is never certain, but when it’s given, it’s that much sweeter. Her body burns as hot as the fire in her eyes, and it’s that inferno I’m addicted to.

  Fuck.

  J’s right. I need to get my shit together and figure out how to compartmentalize like I always have. Keira’s presence can take over my personal life, but my business requires my full concentration.

  I need to do a full security sweep and make sure that no one has taken advantage of my momentary distractedness. Everyone in my organization needs their files updated to ensure they haven’t developed any weaknesses that would allow someone to turn them against me. And it needs to happen now.

  I shoot a text to J with the order, and get a quick response.

  J: Good thinking, boss. Who do you want to use?

  We have two investigators who would rather fall on their sword than miss a single piece of information. Their loyalty has been proven like everyone else’s, one more recently than the other. The third investigator who missed Brett Hyde’s former marriage certificate has been forcibly retired.

  Mount: Use them both. Independently. I don’t want them to know they’re both on the job. Send every updated file to me. I’m reviewing them personally.

  J: Yes, sir. I’ll get it going.

  As soon as I’ve turned away from my desk, my phone buzzes again with a text, and it’s not the phone I used to send a message to Keira.

  V: She’s meeting with some guy. You want me to get her or wait?

  The fuck?

  I hit the button on my desk to bring my monitors out of their hidden compartments and pull up the camera feeds of Seven Sinners restaurant.

  I zoom in on the booth where I see Keira’s fiery red hair and the man seated on the opposite side. He’s reaching across the table, like he wants to grab her hands, but she pulls hers back and tucks them in her lap.

  I respond to V.

  Mount: Who the fuck is this guy?

  V: Don’t know.

  And I know V sure as hell won’t ask anyone because he hasn’t spoken in over a decade.

  I grab a screenshot of the guy’s face and shoot it to J.

  Mount: I need a name and background on him. Now.

  J: On it, boss.

  My second-in-command’s computer skills are off the charts. After what I paid for an MIT education, they should be.

  It takes less than three minutes before I get a response.

  J: Check your email.

  I pull up the secured app, and each word I read pisses me off even more.

  My phone vibrates with a new text.

  V: You want me to get her?

  Mount: No. I’ll handle this myself.

  Keira

  I’ve been trying to wrap this dinner up as fast as humanly possible, but I feel with each second that passes, there’s another strike against me. Or worse, against Jeff.

  Scar has to be waiting outside. I wasn’t supposed to work late.

  Mount will know.

  I’m not naive enough to think that there’s any way in hell he won’t have Jeff’s name, address, Social Security number, and complete bio by the time Scar delivers me back to my cage.

  Mount will probably even know what brand condom Jeff used when he screwed me—terribly, I might add—in the back of his dad’s Caddy when I was seventeen.

  “I’ll take another look at the presentation your assistant sent in advance, and will wait for you to let us know when you’re ready to rock. I think this could be really great, Keira. We could use another attraction off Bourbon Street for people who don’t just want to party. This would be educational, and they can taste some fantastic hometown whiskey.”

  He raises his glass to mine, and I force the smile to stay on my face as I clink my glass with his, sending up a prayer for his safety as I down the contents.

  “I hate to end this dinner, and the great conversation, but I have another appointment I have to get to. Thank you so much, Jeff. Temperance will be in touch as soon as we have the details sorted out for you.”

  I stand up, smoothing my skirt, and Jeff rises from his side of the booth and steps forward to wrap me in a hug.

  “It’s good to see you again, Keira. It’s been too long. I hope next time we can do a little more catching up instead of just talking business.”

  I nod because that’s the only response I can give, hoping I’m not signing his death warrant. “We’ll definitely be in touch. You should stay and have another drink. On me.”

  “Maybe you could reschedule your next appointment and join me?”

  “Unfortunately, I can’t.”

  The wattage of Jeff’s smile dims a few degrees, but I keep mine firmly in place as I give him a final nod. I turn and cross the restaurant floor, blindly smiling at other patrons, but don’t stop to speak to anyone before I hit the elevator.

  It seems to take forever to descend to the basement level, and my foot taps impatiently in the slightly less provocative shoes Mount left in the closet for me today.

  When the doors finally slide open, I rush down the hall and shove open my office door, mumbling to myself. “I just need to get my purse, get to Mount, and explain—”

  “Explain what, exactly?”

  The familiar deep voice comes out of the darkness. My heart hammers in my chest, and I slam my hand over it.

  “Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me.”

  “I should. Because you have thirty seconds to explain why you’re having dinner with your high-school fuck buddy instead of returning early like I ordered.”

  “It wasn’t like that—”

  Mount flips on the desk lamp, reminding me of the first time I saw him sitting in my chair. Then, terror like I’d never experienced raced in my veins. Tonight, I definitely feel fear, but not for myself. For someone else.

  “Get over here.”

  As I cross the cracked floor, each click of my heels seems to echo in the otherwise silent room. “He’s not—”

  “I changed my mind. I don’t want a fucking explanation. I want y
our ass in front of me right now.” The chair scrapes against the concrete as Mount shoves away from the desk and stands.

  I clamp my lips shut, not wanting to piss him off, but also not willing to let Jeff suffer consequences he had no clue existed. My feet move at Mount’s command as I explain anyway.

  “It was business. He’s innocent, I swear to God. Leave him alone.”

  I don’t realize I’m within arm’s reach until Mount wraps a hand around my wrist, pulling me against his chest.

  “Innocent? Do you really think his thoughts were virtuous when he looked at you? Not fucking likely.”

  “It was business,” I say again. “Please don’t hurt him. He did nothing to deserve it.”

  Mount reaches up and grips my chin. He stares into my eyes as though he’s peering into my mind to find the real truth.

  “I swear to you, I’m telling the truth.”

  He searches my face, and he must find something that appeases him because he releases his hold on me. “I believe you.”

  His words send shock waves rolling through me. “You do?”

  “You’re a shitty liar at best. And I saw the footage. He might want to fuck you, but he wasn’t threatening you. He’s safe.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank—”

  Before I can get the word you out, Mount spins me around and grips the back of my neck to press me forward until my breasts touch my desk.

  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel like reminding you that I’m the only man who touches you.” He leans down, his words a rumble against my ear. “You. Are. Mine.”

  I release another harsh breath, but it doesn’t have anything to do with fear. In fact, I should be ashamed at how fast my body switches gears. At my very core—my deepest, darkest secret depths—this is what I’ve always wanted. Always. A man who wants me with this intense ferocity and makes damn sure I know that I belong to him and only him.

  But why does it have to be this man?

  It’s a question I have no answer to, yet I can’t help but mouth off to him anyway. Mount expects nothing less from me. And for some reason, my rebellion always makes things hotter.

  “You don’t own me.”

  Mount yanks the hem of my dress up and tugs my thong down. “That’s where you’re fucking wrong.”

  His palm slaps my right cheek, the smack just hard enough to sting but not enough to cause true pain. Instead, a bloom of heat follows, and my inner muscles clench at the sensation I’ve come to crave. Mount delivers smack after smack before stopping to massage my ass and the decadent burn he caused.

  I try to stifle the moan, but it escapes against my will. His hand slides between my legs, and he growls at the wetness he finds.

  “You can deny it all you want, but we both know you love this. Unlike your smart little mouth, your body always tells the truth.”

  I can’t say anything because he’s right. I do love it. When he releases his hold on me for a moment, I lift up, but he quickly grips my shoulder.

  “I didn’t say you could move. We aren’t even close to done here.”

  Shivers ripple across my skin, and my nipples pebble in my bra as he pushes me back down. This is the hold of the man from that night at the masquerade. The one who took me up against a wall, never letting me turn around. The man who gave me everything I needed, and because of that night, I thought I eloped with him.

  Now I know I was wrong. I was wrong about everything . . . except this.

  This is what I want. What I need.

  The hiss of Mount’s zipper breaks the silence between the hammering beats of my heart, making me anticipate his touch. He pushes a thick finger inside me, circling my piercing until I’m writhing on my desk. Then he pulls it away to rim my asshole.

  “Where’s the plug?”

  “I took it out like you said.”

  “Where is it?”

  I lick my lips, debating how I’m going to answer the question. While I’m contemplating, he squeezes a still-burning cheek of my ass.

  “In the bottom left drawer with the lube. I cleaned it before I wrapped it up and hid it.”

  “Good girl. Because now you’re going to find out what it’s like to be fucked with both your holes filled.”

  Another rush of moisture floods my center. Another secret dirty fantasy of mine.

  He releases his hold and opens the desk drawer I just described. A few seconds later, lube coats my asshole, and he slides the plug inside as he teases my pussy. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to writhe on the desk and beg.

  Mount grips my hair and turns my face to the side to study me. He shakes his head, his gaze black and his smile arrogant. “You were fucking made for me.”

  With that shocking declaration, he fits his cock against my entrance and pushes the head inside.

  “Oh my God.” My voice comes out a harsh whisper at the intense fullness, but Mount’s groan covers my words as he pushes inside another inch.

  “My cock barely fits in your tight cunt with that plug. Jesus fucking Christ.”

  I’m losing my mind, pleasure overtaking any rational thought as Mount fills me slowly and proceeds to fuck me thoroughly, bent over my desk, until I’m a mess of pleas and moans.

  My orgasm rips through me moments before he comes, and then the only sound in my office is the mingled sound of our labored breathing.

  Keira

  I expected to enjoy the afterglow from one of the most powerful orgasms of my life for longer than two minutes, but no, that’s not how things worked out. Instead, I fume the entire way back to Mount’s compound.

  After the crazy, intense encounter in my office, he walked me out to the car and shut me in the backseat without another word of explanation beyond Plans changed. I have business.

  Plans changed because he already fucked me and now he doesn’t need me again tonight? I want to beat against something, but the back of Scar’s seat isn’t going to satisfy me.

  “I wish you would freaking talk, because maybe you could help me understand how his head works. If he thinks tossing me in the back of the car is somehow a good move, he’s beyond wrong.”

  I hate how my voice shakes, and tell myself it’s anger and not the threat of tears.

  How can I want him so badly? How can I possibly think he’s the one who can give me everything I’ve ever needed physically? Well, he’s missing an important freaking piece of the puzzle, because he doesn’t know how to give a damn about anyone emotionally.

  When Scar delivers me to Mount’s suite, I storm inside, heading for the bathroom, ready to wash off the scent that I can’t get out of my head. A noise from the closet catches my attention, and I spin around with a screech.

  “Who the hell are you?” I demand.

  A gray-haired older man with a matching moustache and wearing a pinstripe suit stands in the closet holding the handle of what appears to be a clothes steamer. “Oh, so sorry. I was informed you’d be away for the evening, and I had time to situate things.”

  That’s when I realize what else has changed in the closet. Instead of being full of Mount’s suits and shirts, evenly spaced across all the bars, it’s been reorganized. A third of the closet now contains women’s clothes. Dresses, skirts, blouses, slacks, and more.

  My shock must be evident on my face because the older man hangs the steamer handle on the machine, leaving a gorgeous black dress partially wrinkled.

  “I’m G, Mr. Mount’s tailor. And I suppose if we were in England, maybe something of a valet. I attend to his wardrobe, and now yours.”

  I blink a few times, staring at the gorgeous clothes hanging in Mount’s closet. The man, G, continues speaking, even though I don’t respond.

  “I apologize if I frightened you. That was not my intent. I’ll just get out of the way and be off for the evening.”

  He packs up the equipment with efficiency, like he’s done it dozens of times, and heads toward where I stand in the doorway. Somehow, I have a feeling he doesn’t norma
lly use the regular entrance, but instead some secret one I still don’t know about.

  I haven’t found words to respond to him yet, but I back away so he can pass. Instead of striding out, he pauses in the doorway of the closet.

  “Miss, are you okay?”

  I nod, but his look of concern stays in place. I can tell he wants to ask again, but he picks up the machine and exits the room. I don’t move until I hear the outer door close.

  Once I’m sure he’s gone, I walk into the closet, reach out a hand, and run it along the edges of all the sumptuous fabrics. They’re all beautiful, but that means nothing.

  Up until this moment, I’ve gotten one outfit at a time. One day at a time. Everything about that equated to a temporary situation. This full wardrobe doesn’t say temporary. It says something completely different.

  My entire body shakes as I slide down the edge of the center island in the closet until my butt hits the carpeted floor. I wrap my arms around my knees, trying to stop the trembling, but it’s impossible.

  All the emotions of tonight rush over me in a tsunami that I’m not prepared to handle.

  What is happening to my life?

  This arrangement is supposed to end, and things are supposed to go back to how they were before I knew Mount existed. In the beginning, when I demanded an end date, he wouldn’t give me one.

  I bite my lip as tears burn behind my eyes.

  What if he never lets me go?

  I swipe at my lids as I comprehend what that would mean.

  A complete loss of my independence.

  Never again being able to be honest with my family.

  The death of all my dreams.

  How long until I lose the very essence of what makes me me?

  I thought I could handle him, thought I was strong enough to keep it all together. But I’ve never been more wrong in my life, and it’s going to cost me everything.