Chapter 17
Geneva
The steering wheel creaked softly as Rick’s hand squeezed it. We said nothing for a long while as he drove, the tension in the car so thick it almost hurt. It took every bit of willpower I could summon up not to fill that sepulchral silence with talking about something—anything. Whatever it took.
But instead, I kept my mouth shut, the pleasing purr of the engine and the wind outside the only sounds to distract me from my thoughts. Rick’s car this time was some sort of inky black luxury sports sedan I’d never even heard of. All I knew was that it was fast, and incredibly well-appointed inside. Power everything, and seats that made me want to curl my legs under me while I fell asleep for about a week.
I didn’t even want to think about how expensive the thing must have been.
Just as we pulled onto the freeway, the engine growing still louder as we accelerated, Rick took a long breath.
He glared over at me with a menacing intensity, his blue eyes like icy daggers in the air. “This is how it’s going to be,” he growled, his voice a low rumble. “What happened back there at the office. If you’re going to keep this position, you’re not going to be my intern anymore.”
“What would I be then? Other than the girl whose tits you smack around? The one you make choke on your cock?”
I still replayed in my mind’s eye what had happened. It was every bit as infuriatingly arousing as it had been the first fifty times I’d done it.
“Whatever the fuck I tell you to be. The only thing you need to worry about is doing as you’re told. No matter what that happens to be. You’ll do it, and you’ll keep your mouth shut about it. Anything else is unacceptable.”
“Including saying no?”
He shook his head slowly, still staring at the road. “You already know the answer to that.”
His words hung heavy in the air as I stared at him in shock, trying to make sense of it all. The past couple of hours had been more than a little surreal.
He continued, his tone unrelenting and stern. “If you choose to stay, I’ll expect your total loyalty. And there will be consequences if you fail to obey me. Just as we talked about. It wasn’t an idle threat. Count on it.”
The tone in his voice was neutral, almost nonchalant, as if—despite the implications of his demands—he really didn’t care either way what I decided to do.
The fucking arrogance of this prick!
“What if… what if I do say no?” I didn’t know why I asked it. Perhaps it was a last-ditch attempt at preserving at least a dying ember of my free will?
Regardless, even before he replied, I knew it was a mistake to say it.
“You gave up that chance at the office. You chose this.” Taking the 521 off-ramp, he brought the car to a stop at the sign, glancing both ways. He turned, the car heaving over to the side as it dropped into a pothole big enough to swallow a small moon. Then it bounced back up, and he gunned the engine, the car dashing off again, pushing me back into my seat.
“Fuck,” he snarled. “With how much these leeches take from me in taxes every year you’d think they’d patch a goddamned road.”
“You really think you can just… run over me like this? Take control of my life?”
He paused, his lips quirking. “Controlling, yes. But I’m not taking over anything. Yet.”
My nipples hardened at the cool, sure note in his voice at the word.
The turn signal clicked in slow time as he merged left. He looked to the side, then brought the car yet another lane over, accelerating again. “What I am doing is giving you some direction. A purpose in your life.”
“I have a purpose.”
“Do you now?”
I hated the mockery in his tone, but not only because it was a little too close to being completely warranted.
What had I really accomplished in my life? Was there even one thing—aside from perhaps finishing school—that I could say I was genuinely proud of?
Sinking into sullen silence once more, I concluded not saying anything else stupid was the best course of action.
Good luck with that, idiot.
He expertly threaded his car through the winding streets, eventually leading us into a sketchy downtown neighborhood.
A neighborhood that looked increasingly familiar.
“Um, aren’t you taking us back to your other, uh, office?”
“No.”
“Then how am I supposed to get my car? I drove to work today…”
But he said nothing, as if the question was so unimportant it didn’t even warrant confirmation he’d heard it.
Asshole!
He was taking me to my apartment—something that I hadn’t even given him the address for.
“How do you know where I live?”
“I’m paid to know things, girl.”
He pulled up in front of the building, but didn’t look at me, his big hand draped over the top of the wheel. I opened the door and slipped out, the surprising warm breeze catching my hair, lifting it a moment, and tangling it about my face.
The car pulled away the instant I turned for my apartment. I needed to be away from him, as quickly as possible.
And I had no explanation as to why.
It wasn’t that I was scared of him, not really. There was a protectiveness to him, if one squinted really, really hard. But it was hard to detect through all the brusque alpha male bullshit.
Bullshit? That’s not what your pussy is saying. She liked that part just fine.
Truth be told, I was grateful for what he’d done, for giving me a chance. But what had just happened… there was no way that was ever okay.
Right?
Even worse were the contradictory—and even stronger—needs to see just what he might ask of me. If he’d actually back up those admittedly chillingly titillating words with action. So, so many men didn’t.
What? He’s not some player you’re trying to size up at a club, you dipshit.
No, he was a man whose entire stock in trade was, essentially, deception. On what basis could there possibly be anything there with a man like that?
Punching in my access key onto the battered number pad, the door unlocked with the characteristic metallic thunk. I swung it open, taking one last look behind me.
He hadn’t left yet.
His car was idling in the parking lot, a tiny wisp of translucent white exhaust wafting from one of the tailpipes.
Knowing he was waiting somehow made it better—and worse. Did a tiny part of me thrill that he might be watching to make sure I got inside safely?
There was too a note of almost… menace in seeing him there. Faceless. Silent. Was he protecting me, or was he deciding what he’d like to do to me next?
As I walked down the long hallway to my unit, carefully avoiding a large new dark brown stain in the worn carpet, I tried to ignore the fact that both possibilities seemed to be doing the same thing to my clit.
The familiar warmth and scent of my apartment enveloped me as I closed my door, leaning against it. At least I was home, finally.
None of that changed what had just happened, however—or the choice I still had to make.