Page 28 of Promise of Destruction (Destruction & Vengeance Duet #1)

It's petty, surely, to water his plant with the coffee I didn't want.

I know it, and I know it's childish too.

Neither of those things stops me from grabbing the cup I'd abandoned seconds before and rushing to his desk.

The soil is damp, and I wonder whether he has a real assistant who comes in and takes care of things like tidying up his desk and watering this damn thing.

I don't know what coffee does to plants, but I'm going to find out.

The liquid pools at first on the surface of the soil, and then it begins to sink through. It's completely saturated, and a mixture of coffee, water, and soil begins to bleed out of the drainage holes in the bottom.

Oops.

"Plant murderer."

The accusation makes me jump, turning guiltily with the crushed cup in hand and my cheeks red.

Declan stands in the door with his arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face as he shakes his head.

"Scandalous. I should run an article about it.

We can't let such atrocities go about unnoticed. "

I swallow, truly having nothing to say. I open my mouth and let words come out, and I end up sounding more petulant than I even meant to be when I made this decision.

"What kind of stupid pot has holes in the bottom, anyway?"

I think, for one shocking moment, that he may laugh. His jaw twitches and his tongue flicks out over his lips before he rubs his chin, wiping away all traces of amusement. "The kind that houses a plant which only needs misted... like Monstera."

I turn to look at my mess and feel ridiculous. I can't let him know that, though. "Well, it's hideous." I cross my arms, hoping I don't look like the child I just acted like. I certainly sound like one. "Looks like Swiss cheese."

"Because it isn't beautiful it doesn't deserve to live?" Declan challenges. And this time, he doesn't bother trying to suppress a smirk.

"No. It just—I— "

He reaches for the cord of the blinds and gives it a swift tug, prompting the first set to snap shut. I jump as the blinds slap into place, and he moves to the next set. "What are you— ?"

"I didn't have you pegged as someone so... cruel."

"I'm not cruel," I argue, as the second set of blinds snap into place, making me jump again.

When he reaches for the last one, I move out from around his desk, freeing myself up to dart to the door if I need to.

After him telling me that he'd spank my ass raw if I ever opened my door in a robe again, I kind of expect he's going to bend me over the desk and make good on the threat in revenge for his Monstera.

"You're vicious." He challenges me, fingering the cord on the last set of blinds for a moment before letting them slam down into place. "You called me a killer... not in so many words, but I know what you were suggesting. And yet, here you are..."

"You're comparing me drowning a plant to what you do?" I laugh. "Not the same thing. Not even close."

"What do I do?" He smirks, standing before me as I take a step back, acutely aware that I'm running out of space to put between us. "Say what it is that you think makes me a monster, Miss Palmer."

"Where do I begin?" I laugh, glancing over his shoulder to calculate the distance to the door and whether I can dart around him to get it open before he can catch me. "Stalking people, for one. You stood outside my bathroom and..." My voice falters.

I'm suddenly too embarrassed to say the words aloud. And he enjoys every second of my discomfort, a wolfish grin spreading across his stupid, handsome face.

"I... what?"

"You touched yourself to me."

"I did more than touch myself." He winks. "And we both know it. I fucked my hand like it was your hot little throat and left my cum all down the side of your stucco."

My mouth drops open, shocked at the sudden vulgarity.

"Oh, don't tempt me to make good on the fantasy, Miss Palmer. I'll put that mouth to good use for once if you leave it open like that."

I promptly snap my jaw shut, so hard my teeth clack together.

"You're disgusting." I accuse. "You think our contract excuses you from sexual harassment? Illinois law kind of supersedes that."

Declan merely laughs, closing the gap between us fully so that he boxes me in. "Illinois law. The law that's upheld by the same people you've already admitted are in my pocket."

I guess my face must betray the flash of terror that flits through me, making me feel lightheaded, because he laughs. "I can do whatever I want to you, Soren Palmer, and there's nothing you can do about it. You're my toy."

"I'm not a toy." I snap, letting my rage overwhelm the fear. "I'm a fucking human."

"Human life is intrinsically meaningless, especially when you have no power.

You thought you did, though, didn't you?

Thought you were big and bad writing about how awful I am?

You thought I was the big bad wolf, but you're not Red Riding Hood, little birdie.

As far as anyone is concerned, you're the little girl who cried wolf when there was nothing but sheep.

Will anyone believe you when things get bad? "

I bite back any response about things already being bad and stare him down. I have to look up to do it, he's so close. I can feel his warm breath, smell his heady cologne, see the chaos glittering in his eyes.

"I've been the girl who cried wolf for a year as far as anyone else is concerned." I shrug. "So go ahead. Just try and hurt me. I have nothing left to lose."

I mean every word I say… and I also don't. I took this deal to try and hang onto my house, the last thing I have of my husband other than the memories. It's the only thing he can take from me that would matter, but I won't tell him that and give him what he wants.

"Nothing left to lose?" He sneers. "I very much doubt that."

My chest heaves as he raises a hand, fear coiling inside the pit of my stomach.

He may be a killer, but he's apparently not the type to hit a woman.

Instead, his hand cups my jaw, lifting my chin so that he can appraise me like an item he's going to buy secondhand.

My heart begins to beat harder in my chest, a strange mix of fear and something else lighting through my veins, the adrenaline setting my blood on fire.

I just stare at him as he appraises me, his thumb stroking the column of my throat reverently.

"Your pupils are dilated. Your heart is racing.

Your palms are sweaty." He strokes the pulse on my neck a second, debating, and then licks his lips.

"You're either terrified or you're incredibly turned on. "

I don't even get a chance to express my indignation at that because he shakes his head, laughing as his lips come to just barely brush against mine. His hard body blocks me off entirely, pressing me into the wall. I can feel the bulge in his pants nestled against my stomach... and I can feel my nipples tight under my bra. My chest doesn’t seem capable of expanding enough to fill my lungs, because there’s no oxygen in the air now. There’s only him.

"Probably both." He chuckles. "You say you have nothing left to lose, but what about your pride? What if I pin you to this wall and shove a hand up your dress?"

His thumb toys with the hem, making my stomach somersault. "What if I shoved my cock between those creamy thighs and fucked your cunt until you cried for me to stop? Would you still say you have nothing left to lose?"

I don't know whether I'd put it past him to take what he wants, consequences be damned. I'm sure he's done it before.

My voice cracks when I try to speak, so I swallow before saying, "I'll scream if you touch me."

"I'm already touching you." He smirks, his eyes flitting to where his hand is resting just above my kneecap, a threat of what he could do. "Besides, when I do touch you like that, you'll only be screaming in pleasure."

"Fuck you." I snap, pushing him square in the chest. "I will never give you an ounce of my pleasure."

"Sure about that?" He laughs, his hand traipsing higher and chasing gooseflesh across my skin.

"I mean it." I warn him, though my voice sounds breathy. A fucking betrayal. "I'll scream."

"Go ahead, if you want the whole office to know that you're my whore. We both know it, may as well let the rest of them in on it, too."

Hatred unlike anything I've ever felt swells inside me.

.. and as he slides his hand higher, his thumb brushing the waistband of my panties, it's not all I feel.

Humiliation surges through me, but it doesn't override whatever the fuck my body is doing.

I can feel how wet I am, and if he just slides his fingers a few inches to the left, he could feel it too.

"Stop."

"Are you sure you want me to?" He cocks his head without removing his touch, his fingers lighting a fire along my bare skin as he dips lower.

My head falls back when his thumb brushes against the lace crotch of my panties, and I'm too late to stop the sound that slips out of my throat, a strangled sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh.

"You dirty little bird." He chuckles, his breath ghosting across my lips as he runs the pad of his thumb back and forth over the sopping wet crotch, stroking me through my clothes. "I knew you were sick, but I didn't know you were this sick."

There’s not enough pressure and I’m desperate for him to give me more even as my brain screams that this is so fucking wrong. His touch is feather light, just enjoying the moisture that coats his thumb as I seep onto him, my body betraying rational thought.

I can't stop the moan of frustration that slips out of me when his touch leaves me.

"Like I said, Miss Palmer," he smirks, stepping away and straightening his collar. "You're my toy. And I'm going to play with you until you break."