Feathers and Thorne Series Books 1 - 3: The Complete Collection

Chapter Twenty-Five

Carter

She’s fluid when she walks and when she works, as though she’s purposefully ignoring my everlasting glare. I can’t help but lean back in my chair, seeing her flip through countless binders and reports in the file room across the hall, separated only by walls of glass.

I told Isabella to look for the most recent bundle of checks I claimed to lose, but in reality, they’re at my apartment, set up on my nightstand. She doesn’t need to know that, though, pulling through the files and opening drawers aimlessly, carrying out a meaningless task I handed to her as punishment for not following our plans in a timely manner tonight.

Seeing her bend over, my eyes crawling up her inner thighs from a glimpse of those black panties, I fight to relax my erection as it aches against the inner zipper of my pants.

Tristan steps out of the elevator, making a direct line toward my office. He hesitates in the hallway, just for a moment, his eyes falling down to the little pink dress in the file room. Despite his longing look, he continues forward and lets himself into my office as usual.

“What is she doing in there?” he growls.

I raise my brow at his choice of tone. “She’s doing a task, Tristan.”

“She shouldn’t be snooping through our files, brother. We have some classified information in those files. I don’t trust her enough to be getting that intimate with our work.”

“Really now?” I breathe. “Who the hell put you in charge of what my assistant does?”

Tristan stands opposite my desk, his face taut. “Don’t let that piece of ass get between us, Carter. I’m not letting you spark an argument with me over why we should or shouldn’t trust this girl. She is fresh off of Jacob’s employment. Who is to say she doesn’t find something incriminating and run it straight to that spoiled brat?”

“He needs our deal, or he goes broke,” I bite. “Are you questioning me, Tristan? It’s my name on the building, isn’t it? I write the checks here, and I take most of the fall if things go to hell with this reelection. If you want to trade places and fire Isabella, then go for it, but until then—shut the fuck up.”

He rolls his eyes, waving his hand in the air in obvious dismissal of my words.

“You know what? When you’re done pretending this isn’t solely about Brooke, then you can—”

I stand abruptly, my chair crashing to the floor in the aftermath. I push the entire solid wood desk forward, everything crashing into a mess of glass and mayhem at Tristan’s feet. He doesn’t even fucking flinch, his eyes stark and colorless as I unleash my fury toward him.

“Never. Say. That. Name.”

Tristan shrugs, kicking the computer screen off his boot where it had fallen from the tipping of my desk. “I have every right to bring her up because it’s clear why you’re keeping this receptionist around so much!”

I cross the mess, connecting my fist with his cheek. He stammers back, a hand pressing briefly to his lower lip and pulling back to spy the blood that sits there now.

“You stay out of my business!” I snap. “I looked away from your interests when it came to who you put your dick into, but you think you get to question me and my needs? Fucking joke, Tristan, that’s what you are. She is here to satisfy my needs. You can keep the rest of your thoughts to yourself. Including mentioning that fucking name in front of me ever again.”

He wipes the blood from his nose and bites down the reminisce of a grin. “You’re getting too deep into this woman, Carter. You have hardly done anything productive other than piss off Jacob Lacey when we need him to carry through his side of the deal. The reelection is what you need to focus on, not that woman and the frivolous work you give to her.”

I step back, ready to haul another hit into his face, seeing a blur of pink shift outside the glass walls of my office. Isabella steps back, her mouth agape at the sight of my office and the blood on my cousin’s cheek and chin.

Tristan flickers a look in her direction as well, his expression considerably softening.

“Don’t look at her,” I bite, hating the way he stares at her petite body, her innocent, wide amber eyes, and the way she looks at him back with the same curious edge that he offers her.

Tristan shakes his head, chuckling under his heavy exhale. “Are you seriously jealous? You think I want that girl? I want business to go as fucking planned, Carter. I want Frances to keep the eyes of the law pointed elsewhere, I want the gun deals to continue without a hitch internationally, and I want the dock project to be settled, no matter the heat we have with Jacob right now.”

He shakes his head, frustrated with my antics already.

“You are the only one focused on some obsession you hold from your past,” he mumbles. “Now you just dragged an innocent college dropout into your cruel desires just so she can pay for her father’s medical bills. You’re manipulative and selfish, and you’re distracted from our work, Carter.”

While Isabella looks on, I sate my thirst to punch him a second time in her view. I relax my fist but strengthen my tone, speaking through gritted teeth.

“Get out.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, pushing past my dove with a gentle, passing shove. She steps back, trading a look between Tristan’s bloody nose and my flustered, raw knuckles. I wave her inside, looking at the complete mess of my office after I threw my desk over.

“Come here, Bella,” I bite. “Stand in front of me.”

She does so willingly, wide-eyed and concerned by the state of my overturned desk.

“Take off that fucking dress and kneel.”

She fumbles to do so, naturally, and strips down to her black underwear but keeps her heels on as she drops to her knees on my floor. I step forward, brushing my hand back through her long, soft curls. Even that brief feeling brings me comfort.

Her breath hitches, the sound so similar to how it would sound with my cock throat-deep in her possession. I release my belt, and she watches me unravel my arousal from my pants, her body tensing as I hold it in one hand, the other planted firmly behind her head for my control.

“You’re going to suck me off, dove,” I breathe.

A spark of interest piques her features, but she can’t seem to peel her focus off my belt. I know she hates being whipped with it. I’ll do it more in that case, so desperate to watch her cower at the thought of it slapping against her precious ass.

“I’m going to use my belt in the meantime, and if I feel one brush of your teeth during this blowjob, I’m going to spank you with it harder.”

She shivers, her eyes wet and wide with that claim. “You’re going to hurt me?”

“Only a little,” I lie.

She stammers, seeing my erection in full force against the impression of my pants. “Is this because you’re mad at me, Carter?”

I feel a slight, almost nonexistent pang of guilt rush down my mind, but it disappears moments later. “No, dove. This is because I want full, unrestricted authority over you and your body. You belong to me now, and I claim sovereignty over anything that takes my cum. If you make it through this month and hold back from saying mercy, then I promise you it will all be worth it. The money, the pleasure—everything.”

She swallows, shivering ever so slightly at my promise. Seeing her so unsure only drives me further into wanting to get this over with, the sight of her quivering lips sending me crazy while I picture them looped around my cock.

After a long moment of consideration, she bows her head.

“What do you want me to do, Carter?”

I smile, overwhelmingly pleased.

Whatever Tristan said before disappears as I grip her hair, hold my belt, and get ready for the next few hours of relief that I’ve needed to finish off for years.

I’m going to enjoy this far too much.