4. Ezra
Chapter 4
Ezra
I step into Atticus' office, the heavy oak door creaking slightly as it swings shut behind me. The air is thick with tension and the scent of polished wood mixed with his expensive cologne. My favorite things when it comes to him.
My ass twinges to remind me of how roughly he fucked me last night. Christ, I don’t know how he does it, but he turns me inside out better than anyone else ever has. Man or woman.
"That's not how we do things," he growls into the receiver, his voice holding a dangerous edge. His back is turned to me, muscles taut under his tailored clothes.
I just lean against the couch, watching as he gets all bent out of shape on whoever is on the other line. The way the veins in his hands are pulsing has my abs constricting imagining the harsh way he’d use those very muscles on me.
"Goddammit, I don't care what it takes. Get it done!" Atticus' voice is sharp, so damn different from how he usually presents himself.
"Yeah, well, maybe if you hadn't fucked up in the first place, we wouldn't be having this conversation," he continues, pacing back and forth behind his massive mahogany desk. His custom shirt clings to every muscle, accentuating his broad shoulders. "I expect results by tomorrow."
Without waiting for a reply, he slams the phone down; the sound reverberating through the room. He turns, piercing blue eyes locking onto mine, intense and commanding. My pulse quickens. Fuck, he's hot when he's mad.
"Ezra," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "What do you want?"
"Brunch?" I ask. At the very least, I figured we could take Lemon out, but I get no response. So very typical of him. "You seemed a bit...heated." I smirk, my gaze drifting over his form. "Everything alright?"
"Not now, Ezra," he snaps, but there's a flicker of something darker, more possessive. He runs a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, a gesture belying his stress.
"Jesus, Atticus," I say, moving to lean against the doorframe, "who put a stick up your ass this morning?"
"Understatement of the year," he mutters, his jaw clenched. "But that's not your concern."
"Come on, Atticus. It's Saturday. How about we take your sweet little lemon drop out to eat?"
"You think I have time for fucking brunch right now?" He lets out a harsh laugh, shaking his head as he strides toward me.
"Well, considering we just fucked like animals mere hours ago, I thought maybe food would be the next logical step." I raise an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood.
"Do you ever think before you speak, Ezra?" He stands up, towering over me, his presence overwhelming .
"Not really my style," I shoot back, flashing him a cheeky grin. "But you love it."
"Sometimes, you're infuriating," he mutters, but there's a hint of something else in his eyes. His fingers twitch, like he wants to grab me, control me, and I welcome it.
"Tell me," I whisper, my breath hot against his ear. "What happened?"
"Lawson's fucked," Atticus begins, his voice full of disbelief. "The info just came in and it's worse than I imagined. The feds are in his fucking ass deeper than I was in yours last night."
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. The man is usually unflappable, but right now, he's barely contained and his pacing is causing me to get dizzy.
"He set up shell companies," he continues, pacing again. His fists clench and unclench at his sides. "Funneled money through them to mask embezzlement. Just millions siphoned off over the course of years."
I whistle low. "That's some serious shit."
"Oh, it gets better," he snarls, whirling back to face me, eyes blazing. "He's been collaborating with a rival firm. Feeding them inside information, strategies, client lists, everything. Anything he knows about me and my business. It's like he handed them the keys to my fucking kingdom."
The gravity of the situation sinks in. Lawson wasn't just stealing money from his own company; he was dismantling Atticus' empire piece by piece.
"And Lemon?" I ask cautiously.
"Collateral damage," Atticus says, eyes narrowing. "She doesn't know what's going on. Or if she does, she's been playing dumb very well."
"Poor girl. She's going to be caught in the crossfire. Are you sure you can do what needs to be done?” I bite my lip, considering the fallout.
Atticus' eyes flash, and he steps closer, his towering presence swallowing the distance between us. "She better not be complicit," he growls, voice dripping with menace. "I won't tolerate betrayal from anyone, and when someone fucks with what’s mine…everyone fucking pays."
"Just trying to be the voice of reason for once," I say, holding up my hands in mock surrender. “I was looking forward to wearing you down until you agreed to fuck her with me."
Atticus' jaw tightens, and I can see the war waging inside him. His protective instincts battling with his need for control. "She stays for now," he says finally, each word forced out like it's physically painful. "But she’ll follow my rules. She screws up once, just once, and she's out."
"So what you’re saying is there's still a chance I can still convince you to fuck her with me?" I lean in, my voice a low purr, watching him closely for a reaction as I raise an eyebrow at him.
Atticus' glare sharpens, but there's a flicker of sinful interest that sets me on edge. In one swift movement, he grabs me by the throat, pushing me against the wall.
"You think we’re playing one of our usual games?" he rasps, his grip tightening just enough to make breathing a conscious effort. His face is inches from mine, his breath hot against my skin. "You follow my lead. No exceptions."
His fingers tighten slightly. I nod as best as I can, swallowing hard against his grip.
"You want her?" Atticus continues, his voice dropping to a low growl. "You'll have to earn it. She’ll be mine first. Mine to break in, mine to mold. And if you’re lucky, very fucking lucky, I might let you watch.”
"Understood," I manage to croak out, meeting his gaze with respect and desire.
"I mean it, Ezra," he continues, his tone shifting from menacing to something more intimate, almost seductive. "You want to play? You play by my rules. Lemon will be ours to command, not yours to coddle, and it’s best to remember that you yourself are mine to command as well."
I nod weakly, words failing me as the pressure on my throat increases slightly before he finally releases me. I stumble back, thankful the wall is there to hold me up.
Atticus steps back. "Good," he says simply. "Because if she stays she'll learn what it means to be truly owned and if she was aware of everything her dad was doing…well she’ll wish she would have never shown up here."