Page 46 of Owned (Office Intrigue Duet 8)
I stopped in the bathroom to check my appearance, grateful to find my eyes weren’t puffy and my nose wasn’t red. Being that I’d cried more tonight than I had in years, I hadn’t been sure what to expect.
Using the brush Rolphe had used when he’d dried my hair, I tidied up the long strands. Because of how long it was, I usually kept it pulled back in a ponytail or pinned up. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t just cut it, trim it to my shoulders, maybe. Seemed like it would be the easier thing to do. But I happened to like my hair and I’d grown fond of it over the years, I guess you could say. And right now, I found that leaving it down helped to make me feel less naked.
Smiling at the thought, I took a deep breath before returning to Talon’s bedroom.
He was there, standing near the door to the hall, clearly waiting for me. “Would you like to eat?”
I nodded, my stomach rumbling in response.
He offered a sexy smile and held out his arm.
It took a moment for me to realize he wanted me to take it, so I curled my hand around his thick forearm and allowed him to lead the way. I did my best not to think about how warm his skin was or how the crisp hair tickled my palm, sending shards of pleasure coursing through me.
As we walked, I heard the now familiar sound of him snapping his fingers. Moments later, Auberon and Rolphe were moving past us, then holding open the doors to … well, I’d say it was a dining room, but it looked like it might act as a multipurpose space.
There was a large rectangular table running down the center with enough chairs around it to seat an army. Along the outer walls of the fuselage, there were cabinets on one side, the other holding an enormous television. There were interior walls in this space, too. Dividers, really. They were covered in a glossy wood that reflected the lights from above. It gave an almost businesslike feel to the room.
“The dining room doubles as a conference room when we need it,” Talon explained, as though reading my mind.
Made sense.
When he stopped at the table, he didn’t have to pull out the chair, because one of his submissives was already doing it. Figuring it was a gesture made for Talon, I started to pull away and go to the next chair, but Talon stopped me, urging me into the luxuriously soft leather seat.
“Have the others join us,” he instructed Auberon, then looked at me. “Something to drink? Wine?”
Although I wasn’t really in the mood for it, I opted to accept since it would probably help me sleep.
I nodded at Talon, smiled.
To Rolphe, he said, “Bring wine for Braelyn and my usual.”
The submissive’s response was a simple nod, then he was heading off.
I felt my face warm as I watched the man who not too long ago had been kneeling before Talon, taking his cock into his—
I coughed to dislodge the image from my brain. Definitely not appropriate.
“Who else is here?” I asked, praying the heat would leave my face.
“Some of my staff.”
Talon pulled out another chair beside me, but before he could sit, people began streaming into the room, and Talon was standing tall, addressing them directly.
“Zion, I’d like to introduce you to Ransom’s sister, Braelyn. Braelyn, meet Zion Sisk, the CFO of Owned, Incorporated.”
Instantly I was on my feet, shaking his proffered hand.
“Only one of my many duties,” the man said, his voice a rasp that was so severe it was difficult to understand him. I figured it had to do with the injury he’d sustained, the one that had left a long scar bisecting the thick column of his neck, running upward toward his chin.
“Zion was injured during his time in the Marines,” Talon explained.
“Injured’s putting it nicely,” Zion said with a grin. “I was shot in the throat. Hurt like the devil, but I survived.”
“Yep, he’s like a cockroach,” Tiegan muttered as she walked by. “He’ll be here long after the rest of us have died off.”
I was shocked by the rude comment, but no one else seemed to be. In fact, I was fairly sure that was a smile pulling at Zion’s mouth as he followed Tiegan with his eyes.
“And this is Micah,” Talon explained, drawing my attention to the man standing at Zion’s side.
I found myself staring. Not because there was anything abnormal about Micah. No, his appeal was more because he was so … I wanted to say beautiful but that didn’t seem appropriate. Yet it was still true. His light brown hair was shaggy, flopping down over his forehead and his ears, the wavy strands resting on his shoulders. But it was his eyes that were devastating. While he didn’t look at me, I could still see the brilliant blue of them. The sort of bright teal blue that was otherworldly.
