Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark #3)(80)

Then again.

I’d looked at the news on my phone this morning. Things were getting out of hand. Whatever Frederick was doing, I was about to tell him to f*cking stop it.

Pressing the up button, Tess’s breathing turned shallow. Her eyes darted around the huge, light-filled lobby. No one was around which was good—I didn’t have to worry about spilling blood in my own building. The way my body tensed, I’d most likely strike first then ask questions.

Not exactly a good look for the CEO to tear off an employee’s head just for saying hello.

Ducking to Tess’s level, I murmured, “I’m not going to leave you alone for a second. You have nothing to fear.” I would personally guarantee it.

She flashed me a grateful smile. “I know—just being back here—after feeling so amazing yesterday…it’s hard to accept that yes the past isn’t ruining my life anymore, but I still haven’t put it all behind me.”

The elevator pinged; I pushed her on. With every step Tess lagged. Her back was stiff, movements jerky.

I frowned, watching her as the doors closed, imprisoning us in the small space—alone. Pressing the floor I needed, I touched her cheek. “It’s just a lift.”

She flinched away.

Goddammit, I hadn’t done everything I’d done to have it all be for f*cking nothing. I pushed her shoulder, forcing her to face me. I had every intention of slamming her against the wall and demanding she focus on me and only me.

But she took me completely by surprise.

Leaping into my arms, I stumbled backward. The mirrored walls bruised my shoulder blades as Tess’s mouth pressed against mine. Her breathing was still shallow but now for an entirely different reason.

Her fingers disappeared into my hair, jerking my lips harder onto hers. Ah, f*cking hell. My cock reacted straight away.

My arms shot up, gathering her curvy form.

She dropped her fingers to my face, deliberately scratching me—driving me beyond interested into insane.

Pushing off from the wall, I spun around, crashing her against it instead. Her mouth opened wide, and my tongue plunged inside, taking, tasting, owning, devouring.

Our hands were separate entities as our mouths slipped and licked. I grabbed her breast through her grey jumper. Wanting my flesh on hers, needing my cock driving into her tasty warmth.

I wasn’t sated. I needed more. I wanted her to bow to me and fight at the same time. I wanted so much from her—I wanted it all.

The doors opened.

A feminine cough wrenched my head up; I locked eyes with Helen. Red hair, vivid green eyes—attractive with freckles dotting her nose.

My receptionist of three years.

Releasing Tess, I grabbed her shoulders, and positioned her in front of me—trying to hide the raging hard-on in my trousers. Running hands through my hair, I made sure the white shirt I wore wasn’t too crumbled and quickly inspected Tess.

Her jumper was mussed but her black jeans looked presentable. The disarray of curls made me want to drag her back into the lift and press the emergency button until I finished what she’d started.

“Mr. Mercer. Bonjour.” Helen smiled, eyeing Tess with a professional coolness. If I hadn’t been around women—in all states of mental health—I would’ve missed the flash of competition in her gaze. And I would’ve definitely missed, and not enjoyed, Tess’s answering glower full of possession.

She was fierce, my Slave Fifty-Eight. And I had no doubt she’d scratch out any female’s eyes who made any move to encroach on what she considered hers.

And good. That made me f*cking happy. And hot. So damn hot.

Hoping my depleting erection wasn’t too obvious, I strode in front of Tess. “Bonjour. Est-ce que M. Roux est là ? J’ai besoin de le voir.” Hello. Is Mr. Roux in, I need to see him.

Tess stayed glued to my side, a smile on her lips, but her eyes shrewd and assessing.

Helen smiled at Tess, acknowledging whatever woman code they shared, before finally giving me a look I recognised as defeat. “Oui, il est dans son bureau.” Yes, he's in his office.

“Merci.” I grabbed Tess’s hand, dragging her away from the sterile first impression of the manager’s level. The only things visible were Helen’s desk, a large matching mosaic sparrow behind her, and some comfy chairs in the adjoining room for early appointments to wait.

Tess tugged on my hand as I strode through the floor, nodding at passing workers. I didn’t have a f*cking clue who they were. I only needed to know the top of commands; the rest of the workforce was their problem.

“We’re not going to your office?” Tess asked, dodging a woman carrying an armful of files. Her eyes danced around the floor, taking in the large windows that let washes of natural light and the amazing view of Paris inside. Plants and paraphernalia gave the place a homely feel. No partitions separated workers—everyone had free reign on where they wanted their desk to be. Some were clumped together in a circle, others with lined up neatly. But all surrounded a large break area with a big TV, gourmet coffee and food, and a fulltime masseuse to work out any kinks.

“We can’t,” I said.

“Why not?”

“It’s gone.” I waved back at a man I distantly remembered, who’d helped with a local merger. Frederick’s office was at the end, next to mine—or rather my temporary one.