Empire of Sin (Empire #2)(17)

“Either help me brainstorm or get the fuck out, Dan.”

He throws his weight on the sofa and flings his arm over the back of it. Then he exaggeratingly flips his chestnut hair back. “I’m all for evil plans. What do you need?”

I knew he wouldn’t say no to trouble. Ever since we moved from London to the States ten years ago, we’ve plotted one disaster after the other.

Or, he has.

For Dan, it’s that rush of adrenaline. For me, it’s the distraction from the shadows that are often perched on my shoulder.

Either way, we never stop.

Stopping means killing ourselves slowly, and neither of us wants that.

Neither of us has the luxury of surrendering to our demons.

I put my elbows on my desk and steeple my fingers under my chin. “What I need is a background check.”

“On who?”

“A tech in the IT department.”

“I like where this is going. But aren’t two geeky guys the only techs there? Wait a fucking minute, did you change preferences? No judgment here, but I kind of need to know if I’m the reason you flipped the coin. I’m hot and all, but no way in fuck, Knox.”

“I could get attracted to the entire world, but not you, fucker. And no, I didn’t change preferences. There’s a new girl in the IT department.”

“Ohhh. Now we’re talking. But why would you need the background check? HR must’ve done their homework.”

“Not enough apparently, because she fooled them.”

“Blimey.” He grins with mischief. “I like her already.”

Don’t. I want to say that, but I stop myself at the last second. He’s already suspicious as it is and I don’t want to add fuel to the fire. Considering his bastard tendencies, he’ll make a story out of this and sell it out to our friends like a pimp.

“She’s a nerd,” I say instead, trying to hold on to my calm while sabotaging his image of her.

“What’s wrong with nerds? They can be hot as fuck.”

“She’s a natural blonde.”

His playful expression disappears. “Pass.”

I can’t help the satisfied smile that breaks on my lips. He has a personal thing against them that he’s harbored for years. Daniel’s type is every woman on the planet aside from blondes—especially natural blondes.

“What are you going to do after you have the background check?” he asks more seriously.

“I don’t know. Play with her, punish her. Torment her. The sky is the limit.”





*



During lunchtime, I head to the IT department. Something I don’t usually do. Dan and Sebastian, another one of the junior partners who’s also Nathaniel Weaver’s nephew, gave me a weird look when I ignored our usual lunch gathering.

But I ignored them.

I’m on a mission that will take place on the “nerds’ floor,” as everyone at W&S calls it.

The receptionist desk is empty and I assume everyone is out for lunch. Everyone except her, because I didn’t notice her in the cafeteria yesterday or just now. Which means she takes her lunch here.

And bingo.

She’s sitting at her desk, her shoulders and back in a straight line as she eats a sandwich with one hand and types something on her keyboard with the other.

Just like yesterday, her hair is black and tied in a stiff bun, and the thick glasses cover half of her face.

Only her lips remain the same, petite and full, but they’re bare, with none of the red from two weeks ago.

Her entire face is free of makeup, but it’s still as delicate as I remember. Pale, too. So pale that I make out the thin veins in her throat when I’m within touching distance.

So pale that I left angry red bruises on her hips when I grabbed her by them while I thrust inside her heat.

At the memory, my dick hardens, tenting against my trousers, and I suppress a groan as I adjust it.

Down, boy. It’s not time for you…yet.

The distinct scent of orange blossoms and jasmine reaches me and I close my eyes to inhale it. Another thing that’s remained the same from that night. Another thing that I can’t stop thinking about.

She smells as delicate as she appears. She might be discreet, but something a lot more wild simmers beneath the surface.

Something I’ve had a taste of and can’t erase from my memories.

“If you were changing identities, you should’ve switched your perfume, too.”

She startles, the chair jolting with her sudden movement, and the sandwich remains suspended near her mouth.

Slowly, too slowly, she rotates the chair so that she’s facing me. Her throat bobs up and down with a thick swallow and I can’t stop watching those fine purple veins moving beneath the transparent skin of her neck.

The neck I held in a chokehold not so long ago, which I itch to repeat. Or maybe that’s not the part I’m most thrilled about. Maybe the part that’s stuck in my head is how I had her completely at my mercy, where her only way out was me.

“You.” It’s either a whisper or a pant, I’m not sure which. What I am sure about, however, is that she didn’t expect me.

Good.

I like taking people by surprise, both inside and outside the courtroom.

My lips curve in a sardonic smirk. “Me.”