with one of the most feared men in Austin, I was shaken to the core. Boss didn’t seem very scary all wet and soapy and smiling, but when his voice went low and he held me in his tight grip while scolding me for mouthing off, yeah, I saw exactly how downright fucking terrifying he could be. The man was intimidating. And intriguing. And gorgeous.
Ugh . I rubbed my bleary eyes with the heels of my hands. I needed to stop thinking about Boss as attractive. He was a controlling, vicious asshole. Besides, my skin was beginning to itch and I could feel the agitation creeping up. Time for another hit, if he’d give me one. I searched the room for something to wear besides the huge black tee and baggy plaid boxer shorts left on the bed and came up empty. The boxers were so big, I had to fold them over three times to keep them from falling down. It wasn’t as though I particularly cared what I wore or how I looked. Hell, Boss saw me completely naked last night. But whereas last night I had no problem standing up to the jerk, for some reason, this morning I felt vulnerable.
The desperation for a fix obviously made me beyond reckless last night, and the bright light of morning had me regretting my actions big-time. I padded to the bedroom door and remembered how it shut behind me with a loud click. Locked up in a gilded cage. Was it still locked?
I sucked in a deep breath and pushed on the bedroom door. Yep. Locked. I exhaled and sat on a small armchair tucked in the corner of the room. While I wondered what would happen next and how long I could go before withdrawals hit, I heard voices getting closer.
Male voices.
“What’s your plan then, Boss? Continue to shoot up some junkie chick while she treats your house like a hooker crash pad?” I didn’t recognize the deep, angry growl, but it vibrated to my marrow and sent chills across my skin. Not the good kind of chills.
“Milo, butt out of my business and do your goddamn job, which, by the way, is to do whatever the fuck I say.”
That voice I recognized. The man from the shower. The one with no name who they called Boss. Or as Mason used to say, Boss Man. Clearly, the men were arguing over me. I knew I was the “junkie” being referenced. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard it, but this was the first time the slur actually hurt. Boss spoke again and this time, he was truly pissed.
“Make sure my bathroom is sterilized again, then get your ass over to security and find a replacement for Burke. Whichever of his men you feel is best suited.” There was a pause before Boss continued. “The girl is not to leave the premises under any circumstances, and I don’t want a repeat of last night. Make it known what the consequences will be if security fails again. Use Burke as an example, got it, Milo?”
“Yeah, Boss. Got it.” I heard the angry man’s heavy footfalls fade then come to an abrupt stop. “You sure you don’t want me here when you deal with—”
“Goddammit, Milo. Get the fuck out of here before you regret it and I have to get all fucking dirty, which you know irritates the fuck out of me.” Boss snarled at the other man.
His angry threat should have frightened me, especially when combined with Boss’s clear intent on keeping me locked up like a prisoner—and now the sound was coming from right outside the bedroom door. But instead of being alarmed, the smooth sound of his voice sent another chill across my skin. This time, it was the good kind of chill, the kind that pulled a shudder from deep down while simultaneously heating my insides. What, exactly, did that say about me?
Who gets turned on by threats of violence and unlawful imprisonment at the hands of a criminal who treats me as something less than human?
“Okay, Boss.” Boots thumped down the hall and I heard a door open and close.
The only warning I had was the click of a lock before the knob turned. I shut my eyes, bracing myself to come face-to-face with Boss for the first time
Ugh . I rubbed my bleary eyes with the heels of my hands. I needed to stop thinking about Boss as attractive. He was a controlling, vicious asshole. Besides, my skin was beginning to itch and I could feel the agitation creeping up. Time for another hit, if he’d give me one. I searched the room for something to wear besides the huge black tee and baggy plaid boxer shorts left on the bed and came up empty. The boxers were so big, I had to fold them over three times to keep them from falling down. It wasn’t as though I particularly cared what I wore or how I looked. Hell, Boss saw me completely naked last night. But whereas last night I had no problem standing up to the jerk, for some reason, this morning I felt vulnerable.
The desperation for a fix obviously made me beyond reckless last night, and the bright light of morning had me regretting my actions big-time. I padded to the bedroom door and remembered how it shut behind me with a loud click. Locked up in a gilded cage. Was it still locked?
I sucked in a deep breath and pushed on the bedroom door. Yep. Locked. I exhaled and sat on a small armchair tucked in the corner of the room. While I wondered what would happen next and how long I could go before withdrawals hit, I heard voices getting closer.
Male voices.
“What’s your plan then, Boss? Continue to shoot up some junkie chick while she treats your house like a hooker crash pad?” I didn’t recognize the deep, angry growl, but it vibrated to my marrow and sent chills across my skin. Not the good kind of chills.
“Milo, butt out of my business and do your goddamn job, which, by the way, is to do whatever the fuck I say.”
That voice I recognized. The man from the shower. The one with no name who they called Boss. Or as Mason used to say, Boss Man. Clearly, the men were arguing over me. I knew I was the “junkie” being referenced. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard it, but this was the first time the slur actually hurt. Boss spoke again and this time, he was truly pissed.
“Make sure my bathroom is sterilized again, then get your ass over to security and find a replacement for Burke. Whichever of his men you feel is best suited.” There was a pause before Boss continued. “The girl is not to leave the premises under any circumstances, and I don’t want a repeat of last night. Make it known what the consequences will be if security fails again. Use Burke as an example, got it, Milo?”
“Yeah, Boss. Got it.” I heard the angry man’s heavy footfalls fade then come to an abrupt stop. “You sure you don’t want me here when you deal with—”
“Goddammit, Milo. Get the fuck out of here before you regret it and I have to get all fucking dirty, which you know irritates the fuck out of me.” Boss snarled at the other man.
His angry threat should have frightened me, especially when combined with Boss’s clear intent on keeping me locked up like a prisoner—and now the sound was coming from right outside the bedroom door. But instead of being alarmed, the smooth sound of his voice sent another chill across my skin. This time, it was the good kind of chill, the kind that pulled a shudder from deep down while simultaneously heating my insides. What, exactly, did that say about me?
Who gets turned on by threats of violence and unlawful imprisonment at the hands of a criminal who treats me as something less than human?
“Okay, Boss.” Boots thumped down the hall and I heard a door open and close.
The only warning I had was the click of a lock before the knob turned. I shut my eyes, bracing myself to come face-to-face with Boss for the first time
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