Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 49814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
"I will murder you in your sleep, motherfucker," he growls. But my empty threat works like a charm. He hops to his feet, stomping out of my office.
Fucking finally.
I lean back in my chair with a sigh of relief.
Only to immediately mutter a curse when Gabe strides through the door, a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Now what?" I growl, glaring daggers at him.
"Damn." An amused laugh rumbles from his lips. "I really thought fucking up Constance's office every day while you're doing dirty shit to her would make you less of a crabby bastard. Somehow, it's made you ever worse. How the fuck does that work?"
My left eye twitches. "What do you want, Gabriel?"
"Constance has an idea. I think you should hear her out."
My brows furrow. Why the hell is she taking her ideas to Gabe instead of bringing them to me? "What idea?"
"Ask her about it," he says, being intentionally ominous.
"Why the fuck was she talking to you about it?"
"Uh, because she's allowed to talk to other people, you jealous asshole?"
I grit my teeth. "That's not what I meant." It was precisely what I meant, but I will choke on my own tongue before I admit to this asshole that I'm jealous she's talking to him instead of to me. If it were up to me, I'd monopolize every second of her time. She'd never even see my asshole cousins…at least not until she's pregnant with my kid and wearing my ring. I'm kind of hoping she doesn't figure out that's basically my plan—getting her pregnant before she realizes it's happening.
Is it fucked up? Absolutely. Will I regret it? Hell no. I want her tied to me. And a baby will give me plenty of time to convince her that she loves me.
"You sure?" Gabe asks.
"Yes."
"Fine. She was down in the cellar recording a content video when it came up. I told her to talk to you about it." He leans against the doorframe, eyeing me. "She seemed awful fucking reluctant to do that, by the way."
"What the fuck?"
"So, you don't know why she didn't want to bring it to you," he says, like this is breaking news. "Interesting."
I frown at him, suddenly worried as hell. Constance has no problem telling me what she thinks all day, every day. She makes a sport of it, in fact. So why the sudden reticence to speak up? I don't like it.
I need to know what she's thinking before I snap.
"Talk to her," Gabe suggests before ducking out of my office.
I snatch my cell off my desk, texting her.
Me: Where are you?
Constance: Hello to you, too.
Me: Constance.
Constance: Bastian.
I swear, I've never wanted to spank someone as badly as I do her at least fifty times a day. She drives me up the wall, and she does it intentionally. It shouldn't be as sexy as it is…and yet, my cock is constantly hard because of her.
Me: If you aren't in my office before I come looking for you, you'll have my dick down your throat wherever I happen to find you.
Three little dots appear, then disappear, and then reappear again. All I get in response is the middle finger emoji, though. I'm not entirely sure if that means she's on her way or not, but I'm willing to give her a five-minute head start if she isn't.
It only takes her three to reach my office. She stomps in like a fiery little storm, her hands on her hips and murder in her eyes.
"Which of your cousins is in charge of HR?" she demands.
"Why?"
"I need to file a harassment complaint," she growls, shoving the door closed behind her. "My asshole boss won't stop threatening to do sexual things to me all over the property anytime he doesn't get his way."
My lips curve into a grin. Christ, she has no idea how badly I want to bend her over and fuck the attitude out of her when she's mouthing off. "I believe your asshole boss threatened to make you do sexual things to him."
"Same difference," she scoffs, crossing her arms to glower at me. "What do you want?"
"What are you doing tonight?"
"Burying your body if I'm lucky. Why?"
"We're going to karaoke with Lucy and Oliver."
"Uh…I do not recall agreeing to this."
"You're going, Constance."
"Maybe I don't want to go."
"Why the fuck not?"
She huffs at me. "You didn't even ask me if I wanted to go. You just informed me that I'm going. I'm not a dog who jumps on command, Bastian. I'm a whole person, with a whole life. I know that's probably a foreign concept to you since your entire life revolves around torturing me, but mine is full of things I enjoy, like drinking wine in bubble baths and watching junk TV."
She has a point, and her point is that I'm a presumptuous asshole. Honestly, it'd save us a lot of time if she'd just skip the rants and get right to the insults.