Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
GRACE
Next day…
This weekend is not going as planned.
After dinner last night, Archer was whisked away to a private meeting with the higher execs, and by the time it wrapped up, I was fast asleep in my bed.
We were supposed to meet for breakfast, but by the time he finished his morning meetings, I was getting ready to head to mine.
Our schedules refused to line up all day, and then at dinner, we were forced to sit apart like last night.
It’s ten now, and I’m getting ready to head down to the hotel pool to relax—and if all goes well, I’ll finally get to spend some alone time with Archer.
I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, adjusting the straps of my cover-up so I don’t accidentally flash anyone on my way to the pool.
After much debate, I decided on the skimpier of my two bikinis.
It’s pale gold, strappy, and barely covers my nipples.
I feel sexy in it. Powerful. I love how it makes my curves look, and I think Archer will agree.
Happy with my choice, I apply a light layer of mascara, a bit of lip gloss, slip on my sandals, and head down to the pool. Thankfully, I don’t run into any of my coworkers in the elevator. The hotel is particularly quiet at this time of night, and I’m grateful for the brief reprieve.
I make my way outside to the pool, stopping short at the sight in front of me.
Archer stands there by the pool, shirtless with a bottle of champagne in his hand.
My eyes move down his body, my mouth watering at the sight of his sculpted abdomen, the intricate swirls of black ink covering his arms and chest.
Archer walks closer to me, giving me a heart-stopping smile. “You look like an angel.”
My neck heats with a blush as I squeak, “You look… super hot.”
His head tips back in a laugh, the sound full and deep. “You’re adorable.” His eyes shine with amusement. “Come. I’ll pour you a glass.”
For some reason, I’m strangely shy around him—but it’s overpowered by my desire to spend more time with him, to do more of what we did in the restaurant.
Here, Seven can’t find us. He can’t see what I do, and I’m excited to explore my connection with Archer now that I don't have to worry about his safety.
This will be our little secret.
Archer pours me a glass of champagne and leads me into the pool, holding out his arm to help me down the steps. Once we’re inside, Archer moves close to me, wrapping his free arm around my waist and pulling me close.
I take a sip of my champagne, butterflies filling my stomach at the hungry look in his dark eyes. His hand slides down my spine, his fingers working gentle circles into the flesh of my hip—right on the spot where Seven’s tattoo is.
I swallow hard, unable to breathe under the crushing intensity of his stare. “Archer…”
“Kiss me, Grace.” He leans down and brushes his lips gently against mine. “I’ll die if you don’t.”
Alarm bells scream in the back of my head that this is a terrible idea, but with Archer’s body pressed against mine, all rational thought has gone out the window. Against my better judgment, I melt in his palms, leaning into the embrace as he crashes his mouth to mine.
He reaches up, cupping my breast in his large calloused palm, and I moan as he teases my nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger before giving it a hard pinch.
“I love that sound.” He dips down to my neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. “Are you wet for me, angel?”
“Y-yes.” My eyes roll back as his hand slides down my abdomen, slipping beneath the thin fabric of my bikini. His fingertips brush my clit, drawing a sharp gasp from my parted lips. “God, yes.”
Archer hums, satisfied. But then he pulls his hand away, leaving me panting and desperate for more. “Why did you stop?” I whine, my bottom lip pushing outward.
He chuckles darkly, leaning forward and taking my lip between his teeth.
He bites down hard enough to break the skin, and I gasp, jerking back on instinct.
A metallic taste coats my tongue as I pull away, but I can’t feel anything.
I’m too focused on the hungry gleam in Archer’s eyes, unbearably desperate for his touch.
“If you want me to pull your tiny little bikini off and fuck you right here, I’ll do it.
I’ll happily make you scream my name for everyone in this fucking hotel to hear.
” He reaches up, cupping my face, his voice tender despite the depravity of his words.
“Do you want that, Grace? Or would you rather meet in one of our hotel rooms?”
My face heats at the thought of the first option. I’m so, so tempted to let him take me, but if any of our coworkers caught us…
“Let’s go to the room,” I say with a shy smile. “I’ll meet you in mine in twenty minutes? Let me get showered and changed.”
He nods, leaning down and pressing his lips against mine in a passionate embrace. When he pulls away, I’m panting, flushed, and desperate for more—but I can wait until we’re away from prying eyes and ears.
“I’ll meet you there in twenty.” His eyes darken. “And there’s no need to change into anything. I want to see you—all of you,” he adds, his gaze heating.
“Yes, sir.”
I plant a quick kiss on his lips, and he groans, his hips jerking, rubbing his hard length against my upper thigh.
“You’re going to kill me.”
“In twenty minutes,” I remind him, wriggling out of his grip and wading toward the stairs. The whole way, I sense Archer’s heated stare on my ass—and I don’t mind it in the slightest.
I wrap a towel tight around my chest, my steps hurried as I make my way to the elevator.
I can barely keep the smile off my face, and my stomach is full of butterflies knowing that in a few minutes, I’m going to meet Archer in my hotel room.
An entire night of uninterrupted passion, where I won’t have to worry about a thing other than how amazing my boss makes me feel.
I’m so distracted by thoughts of Archer that I don't realize when someone slides into the elevator next to me. But then he speaks, sending me crashing back down to reality.
“Here you are!” Corey says, his words heavily slurred. “I was hoping I’d catch you before you went to bed.”
I recoil, tightening the towel around my chest as Corey’s hungry gaze dips below my neckline.
“Why’s that?” I ask, trying to keep the annoyance out of my tone.
Instead of answering, he takes a step closer, invading my personal space. He reaches up to grab my chin, but I turn my head at the last moment, dodging his touch. Corey frowns, his eyes flickering with irritation.
“I haven’t got to spend any time with you so far. I was really looking forward to it.” He drags his eyes down my body, making me shiver in disgust. “I saw you earlier in your little gold bikini. Every man in the hotel was eye-fucking you—I’m not going to lie, it made me a little jealous.”
“Oh.” I fold my arms over my chest, feeling much too exposed for my liking. I watch the numbers tick up to my floor, urging them to go faster.
Corey leans in, his hot breath fanning over my face. “You know… we’re not in the office anymore. No one is around to see us…” His eyes lower to my lips as he moves in, clearly meaning to kiss me.
Just before he makes contact, I slip to the side, fixing him with a forceful glare. “Corey, no.”
“What the fuck?” His face twists in an ugly sneer. “You’ve been giving me eyes this entire trip, teasing me, giving me hints—and now you don’t want to do anything?”
“I haven't done any of those things. Just because you made up some fantasy in your head doesn’t mean I’m going to participate.”
Thankfully, the elevator dings for my floor at that moment. Without looking at him, I step out, thinking it will be like all our other interactions—that he’ll give up and leave me alone. Instead, Corey follows me out, his jaw clenched and hands curled into fists at his sides.
“Don’t be such a fucking tease, Grace.” His voice is eerily smooth as he stalks me down the hallway.
“Leave me alone, Corey. I mean it.”
For a moment, he listens, and the pit of dread in my stomach lightens as I hurry to my hotel room. I’m shoving the key into the slot just as Corey rounds the corner, his expression like thunder—and my panic comes back tenfold.
With my heart in my throat, I shove open the door, dropping my purse in my haste to get inside. Whipping around, I attempt to slam it closed, but at the last second, Corey slides his foot in the crack, stopping the door in its tracks.
“Shit.” I swallow hard, throwing all of my weight against the surface, desperate to get it to close.
“Corey, you need to leave. Now.” I take a deep breath, trying to control my erratic heartbeat as I say, “You’re drunk.
You don’t know what you’re doing. Please, just leave. We can forget all about this.”
For a moment, it’s quiet. But then Corey throws his weight against the door, and it bursts inward, throwing me backward onto the carpet.
Casually, Corey steps into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. “I know exactly what I’m doing,” he says, turning to me with an expression I’ve never seen him wear before. It’s… evil.
“Leave me alone, Corey,” I say, hoping my voice sounds braver than I am. “Please. Don’t do this.”
“You and I both know you don’t want me to leave.
” He steps closer with a smile, his eyes dark and predatory.
As he advances, I struggle to my feet, backing up against the far wall.
My eyes dart around the room wildly, searching for something to defend myself with as he corners me, caging me against the wall with his arms on either side of my head.
Corey leans in, his eyes lowering to my lips as he whispers, “You’re going to give me what I want, Grace.”
“Like hell I will. You fucking disgust me.” I shove hard against his chest. “Get off me.”
“Or what?” His mouth tips in a smirk. “You’ll scream?”
My lips part to do just that, but before I can release it, Corey slaps his hand over my mouth, cutting off my oxygen. I attempt to bite his fingers, but he holds them just out of reach.
His grip tightens painfully, and I wince. In a last-ditch effort, I shove my knee upward, but he anticipates my attack, stopping me just before I manage to make contact.
“Stop fighting,” he orders, “Don’t pretend you don’t want this. You’ve wanted me to dick you down since the first day we met.”
He leans down to my neck, and bile rises in my throat as he drags his tongue over my skin. Utterly repulsed, I try to pull free in one last desperate attempt, but Corey holds firm, keeping me pinned to the wall.
With his free hand, he reaches down, ripping the towel from my body in one fluid movement. The cold air hits my still-damp skin, and I shiver, which Corey mistakes for a sign of excitement.
“That’s better. I knew you’d give in.”
My eyes widen as he pulls my bikini top to the side and cups my bare breast—and the sensation of his skin against mine makes me gag.
His hand moves down my stomach as a single tear trails down the side of my face, matching his pace.
I close my eyes, trying to go to a happy place—to try to pretend that this isn’t happening to me.
“That’s mine.”
My eyes fly open as a deep voice fills the room, and the unnatural distortion makes my skin erupt in heated shivers. I’d know that voice anywhere. Seven.
My heart soars as I search the shadows over Corey’s shoulder, knowing deep in my soul that somehow, Seven has come to save me again. Before I can spot him, a pair of gloved hands curl around Corey’s shoulders, ripping him off me in one powerful movement.
I watch in quiet fascination as Seven throws Corey to the floor, unable to take my eyes off the bare muscles shuddering across his back. He straddles Corey’s chest, pulling a large hunting knife from a hidden holster on his ankle in the same movement.
The blade glints as he holds it high, using all of his momentum to shove it hilt-deep into Corey’s windpipe. Just as soon as it’s inserted, he rips it free, and dark red blood spurts from the wound, coating the man’s hands, and soaking the hotel carpet.
Corey lies there for several minutes, drowning in his own blood.
Every couple of seconds, a wet, rattling noise pierces the silence, but it’s nothing compared to the pounding of those gloved fists connecting with Corey’s face—breaking skin, shattering bone, and pulling desperate wails out of the dying man.
Eventually, Corey stops moving, stops breathing. Seven leans back, allowing me to get a good look at the bloody mess that remains. I take one glance at the exposed muscle and bone, and my vision tunnels.
Using the wall for support, I lower to the ground, darkness overwhelming me, pulling me under. When I come to, Seven stands over me, his face full of worry and covered in splatters of blood. For the first time ever, he’s not wearing his mask.
Horror fills my veins as I stare up into a pair of cruel red eyes—eyes that I recognize.
The man crouching over me isn’t Seven. It’s my fucking boss.
“Archer?”