Page 72 of Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy 1)
“Sweet fucking Christ, I want you so goddamned bad right now, but—” He cuts off his own words and seats the plug with a final push.
As I release a breathy moan, Mount flips down the skirt of my dress, turns, and is at the bedroom door before I stand up.
All I catch is the sight of his perfectly tailored suit coat stretching across his broad shoulders as he strides away. But he doesn’t make his usual silent exit.
This time, the door slams, and I’m left more confused than I’ve been yet.
A new tingle pulses between my legs, but it’s not my accessories causing the confusion. No, that’s due to one very specific man who I don’t have the urge to curse to the devil for the first time since this all began.
Keira
Mount isn’t waiting in my room the next morning like a part of me hopes.
I remove the plug myself, but there isn’t another box waiting for me. There is, however, another outfit. This time it’s a white blouse and high-waisted black pleated skirt with a gold chain belt. The bra is lacy and white and appears that it might be marginally effective at shielding my nipples today, because the piercing is rendering me more sensitive than normal. There are matching panties, which brush against the jewelry constantly, driving me crazy in the best way possible. The pumps are black patent leather and higher than anything I’ve ever worn. They also feature the famous red soles I’ve always coveted but could never afford. When I slide my feet into them, I can’t help but survey my appearance in the full-length closet mirror.
I look good. Even I can admit that.
I eat the breakfast that’s waiting in the sitting room, but Mount still doesn’t appear. I wait for Scar to collect me, and after last night and being escorted back to my room without the hood, I’m hoping it’s gone for good.
Not so.
For some reason, it seems more insulting than it did before, if that’s even possible.
As I walk in the door to the distillery, I vow to focus on business all day, and nothing else.
I’m marginally successful. I wait for another text from the unknown number.
Nothing.
No food deliveries. No notes. Complete silence, almost like Mount has disappeared from my life, leaving a hood piercing as my only souvenir.
This is a good thing, I tell myself, even as I begin to worry that something is massively wrong. I help Temperance nail down the final details of the football event and check almost every item off my to-do list, a task that has been impossible to accomplish for months.
“You’re in beast mode today, boss. Nice work.”
I shoot my assistant a smile as she leaves my office. “I only work in beast mode. Ever.”
When I’m finishing up a final task and ready to wrap it up for the day, Temperance bursts into my office without knocking.
“Holy shit. Have you seen the news?”
“No. What happened? Someone get traded?”
Her face, already pale, loses its remaining color. “No. They found Lloyd Bunt’s body this afternoon.”
Everything in me goes still except the blood pounding at my temples and whooshing through my ears. “What did you say?”
“Lloyd Bunt. He’s dead. They’re saying it was suicide, or maybe murder. They haven’t been able to rule either out. But he wasn’t alone.”
I curl my fingers around the arms of my desk chair. “Who was he with?”
“A hooker. There’s speculation that her cause of death was autoerotic asphyxiation.”
Lloyd Bunt. Murder. Or suicide. With a dead hooker. The facts slam through my brain like cars in a head-on collision.
“That’s awful.” My voice shakes, and I truly mean it. Just a few minutes ago, when I was putting the loan docs back in the filing cabinet where they belong, I was counting myself lucky that he hasn’t contacted me today.
Now I know why.
