Page 87 of Only for Him

“Give or take,” I say.

“How can you stand it?”

The smell of latex and expensive perfume tries to choke me.

“I can’t. But it’s the only thing I’m good at.” I look away, but it’s too late. The words slip out, raw on my tongue. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever done that matters.”

She studies me for a second, eyes sharp. She parts her lips, about to say something else, but I decide not to let her.

She gets too much out of me.

I used to control our conversations. The first time that we spoke, she was terrified to say the wrong thing. Scared I’d hang up and she’d lose her chance to learn about me, and scared that I’d get mad and finally kill her.

She knows better now.

Now, if she keeps peeling at me, she’ll expose bones I don’t want her touching?—

and I’m fighting my cock already, just from her looking.

It’s all my fault, letting it spiral like this.

I move closer and casually reveal my hand, literally, palm up to show the bruise.

I’ve kept her from seeing it all night, waiting until I needed to pull it out.

Her pupils flare. She feels the echo of that bite just like I do.

“The earrings,” I say. “There’s a device in the clasp. Press it and it triggers a bomb threat to the front desk. Automated call, coded to match security protocols.”

Her leg bounces. She’s restless, wound up like a spring. I want to tell her to relax, but there’s no point. It would be an insult, and not the kind I’ll whisper in her ear later to make her come.

“As soon as it goes off, the NYPD’s bomb squad and SWAT team will be on site in under ten minutes. Maybe less if they have a unit nearby.”

“How long until they bring her in?” she asks.

“Soon.”

She blanches, just a flicker, and covers it by straightening her dress. “And then?”

“Then we get her out. Fast. No delays. Ten minutes.”

She plants her feet flat on the carpet. Preparing for battle.My little viper.

The same mouth that waged war earlier today now draws breath like she’s ready to kill for someone else. It twists something in my chest. My cock throbs against my thigh.

“Jesus Christ,” she says. “Okay. Okay.”

“When the call goes out, the exit routes will all lock down except the maintenance corridor. That one opens onto the river, where a boat will be waiting.”

She nods slowly, tongue grazing her teeth. Then she’s up, pacing, scanning the room, clocking every detail. No windows. No cover. Nowhere to run.

“Why me?” she asks, finally. “You could have done this alone.”

I lean against the wall, cross my arms. “First, it’s because you wanted answers. Second, it’s because the girls they bring in arealways terrified of men. The woman I usually use for this is too recognizable. You were the only option.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Usuallyuse?”

I don’t answer. Is she wondering what kind of woman I keep company with? Maybe even wondering if I’ve got a stable of them?