Page 17 of Gluttony (Seven Deadly Sins #4)

Chapter Thirteen

Bowie

It’s been three days and I can still feel Orion’s lips on mine. My body has a slight buzz from the heat of his touch as he held me, carried me, then slammed me up against the wall of my tiny apartment.

It never occurred to me that it would be so fucking hard to gain his trust. As much as I seem to have hooked him in that limo so many months ago, my showing up for a job put an impenetrable wall between us and I have no idea how to smash it down to smithereens.

As I sit in my office going through my daily chores, I’m still pissed that he had to leave.

I thought I’d at least hear about what happened to their security system but the rumor mill is quiet on all fronts, which is unfortunate.

Chances are, Mickey is behind whatever breach they saw but since he’s been MIA, without so much as a text to clue me in, I’m completely in the dark here.

“Hey, Bowie!” Jesus Christ, even Phoebe knows my real name?

“What’s up, Phebes?”

“There’s a delivery for you at the front desk. Looks like you’ve made an impression on someone.” I frown. What the hell is going on now?

“Oh, okay. Um, thanks.” Standing, I squeeze my way out from behind my desk and follow Phoebe all the way back to the entrance.

Before I even make it there, I see the big-ass bouquet of red roses on her desk.

For a brief second, my belly gets a whole fuckload of butterflies flapping around like we’re in A Midsummer Night’s Dream thinking about Saturday night and Orion’s unmistakable need for me.

Logic slaps me in the face when I remember that my boss wouldn’t send me flowers at work. Or at all, to be honest.

When I reach the front desk, I look around the space, half expecting the camera crew of some gotcha reality show to jump out from behind the potted plants. Just thinking about it has my face and neck burning with embarrassment.

As I pluck the card out from the petals, I side-eye the bouquet like it’s a snake ready to bite my head off.

“Had a great time Saturday. Hope we can do it again and maybe this time we won’t be interrupted. Looking forward to making our plans work out sooner rather than later.” Yours, Miller.

It takes my brain a second too long to remember that Miller is Mickey, and when it does, I get the uncontrollable urge to hurl the vase against the wall, which is ridiculous.

Everything about his note is confusing. The positive words with underlining threats or disappointments are doing my head in and I’m struggling to remember why Mickey and I are even still a thing.

Other than pulling cons together, nothing feels right anymore.

“What’s this?” The deep voice in my ear is immediately followed by the card being plucked from my fingers. I start to protest but when I turn around and see Hadley reading the scribble, I decide there are a hundred other hills I’d prefer to die upon.

“It’s nothing—” I start but am interrupted by a low growl that, instead of scaring me, starts a direct line to my clit. This can’t be good.

“Looks to me like you went on a date with a proper cunt.” Then he hands me back the note and leans in close enough that I can feel his breath on the column of my neck. “I can get rid of him for you. Just say the word.” His words are followed by a low chuckle from him and a gasp from me.

“That’s…no. It’s fine. He was just being nice.” I don’t even believe what I’m saying but that’s not the point.

“Whatever you say, Little Rabbit.” Hadley grins, showing off his perfect rows of white teeth and it’s more feral than polite.

That smile says more about what he wants to do to Mickey than anything he’d want to do to me.

Still, the invitation is there, it’s clear, and it’s fucking with my head. “Phoebe, get rid of them.”

My anger comes out of nowhere and I’m not even sure why I feel so attacked. “What the fuck?”

Dammit, Bowie.

It feels like the entire staff just stops whatever they were doing and is now one hundred percent invested in our public show.

Hadley and I are having a weird showdown where I try to play a game he’s mastered his entire life. I’m going to lose and he knows it, but for some reason, he’s standing there, humoring me.

When his only reaction to my outburst is a raised brow and smirk on his plump lips, I continue my ridiculous outrage.

“Those are mine, Hadley. You can’t just throw them away.”

“Phoebe, do you mind explaining to our new recruit here why we have to get rid of the flowers?” The whole time he addresses our receptionist, his fire-fueled gaze is on me. It’s intense and it’s daring me to attack again.

“Yes, Sir. Bowie, we have a few members of our staff who are allergic. To protect them, there’s a regulation in the employee handbook specifying that no flowers are permitted on the premises.”

Of course there is.

“Thank you, Phoebe.” He winks at our receptionist then, without a single word my way, walks back to the CEO offices.

I’m well aware of my jaw hanging open as I watch Hadley strut away, wishing I could disintegrate him with my eyes, Superman-style.

“I’m sorry. I know he seems hardcore but it’s been company policy ever since Amanda Starr, from marketing, almost cost us a record deal with Overhype because they got grossed out by her puffy eyes and constant sneezing.

” Phoebe shrugs like it is what it is and, to be honest, I don’t actually care about the roses… it’s the principle of it all.

I never get fucking flowers. Never. This is the first time I’ve ever received a bouquet and it’s getting outed like a bad apple.

The rest of my day went along without major incidents. Did I see Orion? No, I did not. At one point I even wondered if he was actively ignoring me. He wasn’t. Apparently, the whole team is on deadline, which explains why I have a much longer list of chores than usual.

As I tidy up my desk, I look down at my list and notice one item not crossed out. It’s not urgent and could wait until tomorrow but…

Mickey said I needed to be proactive and this could be my only opportunity.

Drumming my nails on the desk, my pros and cons have a ping-pong championship game in my head.

It’s too risky.

It’s what a good employee would do.

What if they see right through me?

Grow some balls.

That last thought is what gets me moving. Fuck balls. They’re weak and fragile. I’m putting my vagina to work because she’s indestructible. Well, to a point, I guess, but still.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I take a deep breath and nod to myself in lieu of a pep talk. But first, I have to pee or else the subway ride is going to suck.

Down the hall, I make eye contact with Orion, who doesn’t speak to me but gives me a boyish smile as he walks back into his office.

Weird. He’s usually holed up with the marketing team.

In fact, I only ever see Hayes on this floor.

And by “see” I mean spot in a furtive way.

Some people love numbers more than humans. Who am I to judge?

Just as I reach the door to the bathroom, the hairs on my arms stand straight up and my belly constricts like my entire body is preparing for a boxing match.

“Did you have a nice day?” I don’t move when the deep tone of Hadley’s voice caresses the shell of my ear as I inhale the minty freshness of his Tic Tac addiction.

“Yes, Sir.” I’m pretty sure I’m doing it on purpose at this point and the hard cock that presses against my back is the exact reason why.

“See, no need for pesky flowers, is there?” There’s a sudden edge to his voice, all kidding has left the building. “Tell your boyfriend this is a place of business, not his whorehouse.”

I’m about to rear back, his comment feeling like a direct affront, but I’m stopped by his hand around my throat with his fingers pressing on my pulse points just enough to make me freeze.

“You got something you wanna say, Little Rabbit?” A quick shake of my head is my only answer.

Mostly because I don’t think telling him I’ve never been this wet before is appropriate in the workplace.

That said, my fucking boss is manhandling me in view of anyone who should pass by, but hey, I guess this is my reality now.

The worst part is that I love it, which always makes me feel guilty.

Mickey may insist that being with them is a necessity but it still feels wrong.

It’s impossible to miss that Hadley loves the chase, and the minute I tell him I like being his prey, his interest will die a forgettable death, which will only enrage Mickey.

“Now, go take a piss and think about me while you wipe your cunt. I smell your need for me from here.” He’s gone so fast, the cool air at my back is immediate. Fuck, how does he do that? How does he get me so worked up, yes. But also, how the fuck does he just disappear without a sound?

It’s creepy. It’s also hot as fuck.

I go in, locking the door even though the thought of leaving it open for Hadley is more than just appealing.

I imagine him walking in, taking up all the space while I’m sitting on the toilet and trying to get my business done.

In my fantasy, he doesn’t let me wipe, he reaches down and pushes two fingers inside me, fucking me hard and leaving gentle kisses on my neck.

All the while, his other hand is holding me in place by my throat, pressing hard as my blood rushes to my head.

Or to my clit. Or whatever the fuck happens when you simultaneously start to orgasm all the while on the verge of fainting.

Holy shit, why am I so fucking turned on right now?

The next thing I know, I’m coming on my own fingers and Hadley, who was never here in the first place, poofs away from my mind while I try really fucking hard to catch my breath.

My entire face and neck heat like I’m standing too close to a fire at the thought that someone, he or they, could have heard me getting myself off. Shit, I can admit to myself that it was hot.

After wiping myself off, for real this time, I wash my hands three times as I look at myself in the mirror. I know I’m pretty enough by society’s standards but I’m a little fucked in the head and that’s never attractive to anyone, is it?

The only person who has ever accepted me as I am, is Mickey. Can he be cruel? Sure, that’s just his personality because he is also fucked in the head, but I accept him just the way he is.

Then I remember how he slapped me and my anger returns. I accept him but I don’t accept that.

Before I leave the bathroom, I pat myself on the cheeks to get the red tint down by at least one tone. Being a redhead with pale skin is like having a warning sign flashing every one of my feelings to the entire world.

When I walk out of the bathroom, I’m relieved to find that no one is in the hallway, no one was listening to me orgasm, and no one has a clue that Hadley was at the forefront of my fantasies. It’s the small wins that matter.

The click clacking of my heels on the pristine floors echoes as I pass by the offices and come to a complete stop when I reach my desk.

In the span of just fifteen minutes, if that, someone had the time to come up here and drop a light-green bunny on my desk.

Today’s novelty, the rabbit has a huge carrot at its feet and right beside it is a cupcake with white frosting and a decorative carrot on top.

What the actual fuck is going on?

I don’t know why this surprises me anymore.

Let’s face it, by now, I should be surprised if I don’t find an origami on my desk.

It’s just so weird. I mean, I can’t fathom any of my bosses doing this, they don’t seem like the waste-time-making-paper-characters kind of guys.

Then again, I didn’t think Hadley would corner me in the hall with a half attempt at choking me.

Fuck, why is that hot?

Bringing the cupcake to my nose, I sniff. Vanilla? Maybe with a hint of fruit or something?

What if one of the guys did bake this? No. Impossible.

Then it hits me. Ginny bakes all the fucking time.

At this point, I’m pretty sure she spends her weekends looking up recipes so she can bring us the latest delice she whipped up.

Hadley calls me Little Rabbit in front of every fucking body so it’s not a stretch that she made a cupcake with a carrot on top.

Oh! Carrot cake, of course.

It doesn’t tell me who’s been leaving the origamis but that’s okay with me. I like not knowing. It’s cute and sweet and I look forward to it every night.

Grabbing my things and dropping them in my bag, including my cute little bunny, I swipe the cupcake from the desk and decide it’ll be a great sugar boost during my subway ride to Midtown.

Because, yeah, I am doing this. Fuck it.

By the time I leave, only Hayes is still typing away at his computer. Even his secretary is gone.

In for a pound…

“Mr. Beckett? Just wanted to let you know I’m leaving.” Like he actually cares.

Hayes stops typing at the sound of my voice and slowly, like he’s afraid I’ll detonate a bomb or something, he raises his gaze to meet mine.

No, he doesn’t meet my eyes, he stops on my lips, and on instinct, I drag my tongue across my bottom one. The sweet taste of the cupcake frosting fills my mouth and I have to actively restrain myself from moaning.

“Sorry, Ginny left this on my desk and I just couldn’t resist.” I shrug because it’s true.

“Right.” Then he turns back to his computer and I’m silently dismissed.

“Goodnight, Sir.” I say just as I turn, and I don’t hide my smile when I hear him cursing behind my back. Do I know he likes to hear me call him sir? Yes, yes I do and I love to fuck with him.

Now, to put my plan to work and see if I can get myself a one-way trip to the penthouse.