standing to the side of my desk and starts to cringe at my outburst. I snap my jaw shut, grinding my teeth so hard I imagine I taste enamel dust in the back of my mouth. For once, I welcome the intrusion of memories from last night—fuck, was it only last night?—Matthew’s shame-reddened cheeks and the sound of him crying out in a hard-earned and desperate climax. Jesus . I want that for myself, want to make some woman horny and frantic as hell in the same way, want to make her have the same kind of explosive orgasm. And to get that, I have to be on my best behavior.
“Becky, get Johnson’s office on the phone. See if I can’t get in to see him this week. Switch things on my schedule if you have to because we’ve got to have words. Make sure he knows it’s going to be me and not some wet-behind-the-ears staffer. We’re talking hardball.”
“Yes, sir.”
She eyes me warily, probably waiting for me to yell or spew curses, but I’m not going to. I’ll do as Rey asked because, after what I saw, I’m more certain than ever: this is what I want, and Rey Walter is the man who can give it to me. This presents me with an excellent opportunity to practice controlling my temper. And because I enjoy confounding expectations…
“And Becky?”
“Yes, sir?” Her body’s rigid, bracing for cruel words, and it makes guilt crawl around my insides. Becky’s one of my best. She works hard, pays attention to details, gets in early, stays late, and genuinely cares about the work we do. And she probably has no idea I think so.
“Nice job on the chart. It’s helpful.”
From the blush that blooms in her cheeks, you’d think she’d been awarded a fucking medal, not gotten a half-assed compliment from her raging asshole of a boss.
“Thank you, sir.”
She smiles at me and turns on her heel, leaving before I can change my mind. And me? I turn back to the board and try to figure out which of these oranges makes me want to take a gun to my head the least. It’s going to be a long few months fighting this fight, but if we can get this bill passed and get some people off the street? Worth it. This is what I came to do and it’s one of my favorite parts of the job.
For however much I hate Washington, and I do on pretty much any day that ends with Y—it is possible to do some pretty great things if you’ve got the faith and power of the US government behind you. Now to wield that motherfucker like a cudgel.
*
I twirl the pen between my fingers like a baton. Passing it knuckle over knuckle at speed and back again is suddenly the most important thing in the world. Far more important than waiting for my phone to ring. Because it’s going to. Has to. It’s all I’ve been able to think about for the past two days.
After my last session with Rey—which, holy fuck, I’ve been playing and replaying in my head every spare second since—he’d said he was going to give my situation some thought and he’d call me in a couple of days. My situation . I wish he wouldn’t make me feel like I have some sort of condition, like I’m a state of affairs that needs to be managed, but to be fair, that’s exactly what this is. And if he wants to help me manage this—even for a hefty price—well, then, it’s probably worth it.
My cell vibrates on my desk, and the pen I’ve been handling so capably goes flying across the room, landing silently on the carpet. A peek at the screen reveals the only three letters I want to see: RLW .
“Lewis.”
“Hello, Slade. Expecting my call?”
The restrained laughter in his voice grates on me, but there’s nothing to do about it. If I have to deal with a little hazing for his help, so be it. And it’s my own fucking fault for answering on the first ring. Idiot.
“Yes. I’m a busy person. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Efficiency. I like it. But don’t you dare take that tone with me.”
I thought I had perfected a menacing timbre to my voice—my staff certainly seems
“Becky, get Johnson’s office on the phone. See if I can’t get in to see him this week. Switch things on my schedule if you have to because we’ve got to have words. Make sure he knows it’s going to be me and not some wet-behind-the-ears staffer. We’re talking hardball.”
“Yes, sir.”
She eyes me warily, probably waiting for me to yell or spew curses, but I’m not going to. I’ll do as Rey asked because, after what I saw, I’m more certain than ever: this is what I want, and Rey Walter is the man who can give it to me. This presents me with an excellent opportunity to practice controlling my temper. And because I enjoy confounding expectations…
“And Becky?”
“Yes, sir?” Her body’s rigid, bracing for cruel words, and it makes guilt crawl around my insides. Becky’s one of my best. She works hard, pays attention to details, gets in early, stays late, and genuinely cares about the work we do. And she probably has no idea I think so.
“Nice job on the chart. It’s helpful.”
From the blush that blooms in her cheeks, you’d think she’d been awarded a fucking medal, not gotten a half-assed compliment from her raging asshole of a boss.
“Thank you, sir.”
She smiles at me and turns on her heel, leaving before I can change my mind. And me? I turn back to the board and try to figure out which of these oranges makes me want to take a gun to my head the least. It’s going to be a long few months fighting this fight, but if we can get this bill passed and get some people off the street? Worth it. This is what I came to do and it’s one of my favorite parts of the job.
For however much I hate Washington, and I do on pretty much any day that ends with Y—it is possible to do some pretty great things if you’ve got the faith and power of the US government behind you. Now to wield that motherfucker like a cudgel.
*
I twirl the pen between my fingers like a baton. Passing it knuckle over knuckle at speed and back again is suddenly the most important thing in the world. Far more important than waiting for my phone to ring. Because it’s going to. Has to. It’s all I’ve been able to think about for the past two days.
After my last session with Rey—which, holy fuck, I’ve been playing and replaying in my head every spare second since—he’d said he was going to give my situation some thought and he’d call me in a couple of days. My situation . I wish he wouldn’t make me feel like I have some sort of condition, like I’m a state of affairs that needs to be managed, but to be fair, that’s exactly what this is. And if he wants to help me manage this—even for a hefty price—well, then, it’s probably worth it.
My cell vibrates on my desk, and the pen I’ve been handling so capably goes flying across the room, landing silently on the carpet. A peek at the screen reveals the only three letters I want to see: RLW .
“Lewis.”
“Hello, Slade. Expecting my call?”
The restrained laughter in his voice grates on me, but there’s nothing to do about it. If I have to deal with a little hazing for his help, so be it. And it’s my own fucking fault for answering on the first ring. Idiot.
“Yes. I’m a busy person. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Efficiency. I like it. But don’t you dare take that tone with me.”
I thought I had perfected a menacing timbre to my voice—my staff certainly seems
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