Page 80 of Jordan

Does he only keep Rafael around for rough sex? I could be into rough sex. I actually think I might be.

“Can’t you go to the gym or something?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “It isn’t the same.”

My body felt pretty damn good after every time I was with Enzo, so I can understand a workout wouldn’t be the same. I’ve worked out before, and I don’t get nearly the same satisfaction from it as sex. Well, sex with Enzo and Rafael, definitely not with Zach.

It’s quiet as he eats, and I sit here and twiddle my thumbs, wondering if there is something I am supposed to be doing. It’s awkward as hell. But I don’t want to push his buttons. He may snap. Again, not that I fear him, but I don’t want to push him away.

Trust.

Trust.

“I have something for you,” he says.

I perk up. “You do?”

He nods. “It’s in my office. We can get it when I’m finished.”

“Okay. Thank you,” I say carefully.

“You don’t know what it is.”

“It’s for the thought.”

“What if it’s a bullet to the head?” I furrow my brow, and he shakes his head. “Just go wait for me upstairs.” He flicks his wrist toward the door, and I quickly grab my stuff and scurry out. He’s in a foul mood, and all I can think about as I climb the stairs is what if it truly is a bullet to the head?

He wouldn’t do that. I’m his payment. Why would he kill me?

Still, my logic doesn’t stop my panic, and I grow more and more anxious as I wait outside the locked office door.

When his feet sound on the stairs, I don’t know if I should be concerned or relieved.

If he was going to kill me, would he do it in his office?

Unlikely. It would make too much of a mess. There’s carpet in here.

He’d likely do it outside, or maybe in one of the bathrooms. The spa, possibly. There isn’t any carpet in there.

Unless he isn’t going to use a bullet and strangles me instead. That won’t be messy at all.

Breathe, Jordan. He isn’t going to kill you.

At least, I don’t think he is.

He crowds the door as he unlocks it and steps inside. He looks at me expectantly. My mouth drops open as I look at him, then down the hall.

“Are you going to kill me?” I whisper.

He huffs out a laugh, and smiles. Actually smiles.

“I am not going to kill you.”

I nod, not fully believing him, but go into the room anyway. If he wants to kill me, there’s no way I can stop him. I can try. I’ll fight like hell, but Enzo is twice my size—easily. Killing me with his bare hands would be a warm-up for him.

Once I’m inside, he closes the door and moves to his desk. I look around the room, and note it looks exactly the same as I last remember it, the hint of mint still lingering. I kind of feel bad about that. Maybe a little. Maybe not. I’m not quite sure.

He opens the top drawer in his desk and pulls something out. He moves to stand in front of me and offers me a small, rectangle device. My brow furrows as I look up at him.