Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Malcolm’s office is austere. I’m surprised by its simplicity. Fireplace with an elk skull above it, a massive desk, huge glass windows overlooking the desert, a closet on the left, and a few filing cabinets and shelves. There’s not much more, everything kept to the bare necessities, which makes it easier in some ways. Fewer places to look.
I rifle through his drawers, and just like his office back in the city, I find nothing. I open each filing cabinet, one after the next, and it’s all paper stuff. I could try to take some of it, but I don’t know what’s useful and what’s a waste, and I’ve got a limited amount of space in my bag. There’s no desktop computer to check and no laptop, and I’m panicking when I turn toward the small closet set in the wall to the left of the desk. It opens with a hard tug.
Inside is filled with networking equipment. Racks of wires, a big monitor, boxes that I’m pretty sure are servers, and a bunch of stuff I don’t recognize. But I do know what an external hard drive looks like, and there are six of them lined up next to each other, each of them linked by cables. I start ripping the cables out, doing my best not to make too much of a mess, but I’m on a clock.
I manage to free four of them and shove them into my bag when the door opens and footsteps approach.
I turn from the closet, ready with a hundred different lame excuses, panic spiking up into my chest. I can see a thousand scenarios, but only one replays again and again: Benedict finding me alone, cutting me up with a knife, and leaving me for dead.
Instead of that psycho, it’s Gavino coming at me. His face is hard and he holds up a hand, silencing me before I can ask what the hell he’s doing.
“Benedict’s coming,” he whispers in my ear and I strangle a scream. “I heard him talking to the staff. We’ve got ten seconds.”
“Shit,” I say and close the computer closet door. I turn around, panicking. Benedict’s going to search us when he catches us in here and I don’t know what’s going to happen when he finds the hard drives. Gavino won’t let Benedict hurt me, but if the two men get into a confrontation that means the whole game is finished.
Gavino moves fast. He grabs the bag from my shoulder and runs to the windows. He unlatches one, shoves it out, and drops the bag down. It lands with a clatter and I stare in horror as two of the hard drives lay on the rocks below, likely broken. He yanks the window shut again and before I can speak, he’s on me.
His hands rip my dress down. I moan as he kisses me and throws me up onto the desk. It happens so fast and with such an intense force and I can barely think. My legs wrap around his middle as his hands tease my breasts and his tongue invades my mouth, dominating me, and my heart’s a stuttering wreck when the lights suddenly turn on.
I yelp and cover my bare chest, looking over my shoulder. Gavino’s got an easy smirk on his lips, his mouth smeared with my lipstick, his hair tousled like I was pulling at it—when did that happen?— and Benedict stands in the doorway, his face grim.
“What are you two doing in here?” he asks, not moving, blocking the exit. He stares with pure, utter malice.
“What’s it look like?” Gavino cocks his head and glances at me. “You should get dressed.”
“Right.” I quickly get my dress back into position, acutely aware of Benedict watching the whole time, but there’s nothing sexual in his gaze.
I finally turn around, blushing furiously. He does not seem convinced.
“This is the second time you two have been caught in Malcolm’s office doing something like this.” Benedict’s head tilts. “It’s more than a little suspicious.”
“It’s my kink,” Gavino responds and puts an arm around me protectively. “I get off on fucking in places where I shouldn’t. And Malcolm’s office is extremely off-limits.” He shivers like he means it, and I have to wonder if he’s at least telling part of the truth.
Benedict continues to glare, obviously doing some kind of calculus in his head. Things can go very badly from here, and so much depends on how this madman decides to react. He’d be well within his rights to assume we’re doing something wrong, and he’d be completely right—but I’m guessing Malcolm ordered him to hold back out of respect for the deal they’re close to finishing.
I slip off the desk, standing unsteadily. I lean against Gavino for support and he holds me there, hugging me tight against him.