Page 122 of Their Ruthless Sadist (Office Intrigue Duet 5)
“I’ve wanted to find you—”
“You knew where I lived,” I said, cutting him off.
“I know. But I knew you were mad. I thought maybe—”
“You thought that waiting four years and accidentally bumping into me was the perfect time for you to come over here and spout this bullshit?”
“It’s not bullshit, Zeke!” Matt’s temper flared. “I saw you tonight and it all came back.”
I watched him, noticing the way his eyes continued to dart over to the cowboy and the pretty boy. It was as though he was enjoying the fact that they were here.
And then it hit me.
They were the reason he was here. Matt didn’t want me because I couldn’t live up to his standards, but he didn’t want anyone else to have me, either.
He confirmed my suspicion when he said, “They shouldn’t be wearing your collar, Zeke. I should. That’s my right, my privilege. Not theirs.”
I glanced down at his neck. “Looks to me like you discarded it long ago.”
Matt started to open his mouth but quickly closed it.
I was beginning to think Matt had some psychological issues. I’d thought so the night he left. The way he had turned on me so quickly. It wasn’t normal. This wasn’t either. I hadn’t seen or heard from him in four years and he just drove over here to confess his true feelings. Nope. Like the cowboy said, I wasn’t buying it.
“You need to go,” the pretty boy said, his tone far more rigid than it’d been before.
“This isn’t your house,” Matt countered.
The cowboy stepped forward, that same temper he’d lashed me with shining through. “No, but Zeke is our Dom and we have every right to protect him from those who want to hurt him.”
I swallowed hard, floored by how ballsy the cowboy was. He’d confronted me in the basement and he was standing up for me here. Not that I needed him to, but I was so shocked by his words I couldn’t speak. I’d seen a couple of different sides to him over the past few weeks, but this was new.
Matt’s voice lowered. “I’m not here to hurt him. I’m here to get him back. I never should’ve left.”
The pretty boy was the one who stepped forward this time. “But you did. And that dumb-ass move is something you have to live with for the rest of your life. It’s time for you to go.”
Matt’s pleading eyes shot to me, but I shrugged as I turned and headed toward the back door. I needed some air.
“Come on, Tank,” I commanded and my best friend fell into step with me.
Once on the back porch, I dropped onto the top step and stared into the inky darkness. It was cold, but I ignored the chill. Adrenaline was still racing in my veins. Anger, disappointment, frustration. It churned inside me, making me feel sick. But it wasn’t directed at my fuck toys or even Matt. I was disappointed with myself. How I’d reacted tonight. I shouldn’t have left them but I didn’t know what else to do. Seeing Matt again had fucked me up, caught me off guard.
Who the fuck was I kidding? I hadn’t even thought of them in that moment. I was completely selfish. I didn’t want to deal with Matt’s shit, so I had worried about only myself.
Just another thing that made me human. Something else that would have the fuck toys turning away because I couldn’t give them what they needed all the time.
Tank returned to my side, placing his head on my chest as he stared up at me.
“What’s up, boy?” I asked. “Too much disruption for one night? I doubt you’ll have to worry about it for long. They’ll all be gone soon.”
“No, we won’t,” a voice said from behind me. “Matt’s gone and he’s not coming back, but we’re not leaving.”
I peered back at the cowboy over my shoulder. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Actually, no. That’s not in my repertoire of skills. I do make a mean pasta e fagioli though.”
I didn’t have the energy to fight with them anymore tonight. I needed to sleep and perhaps everything would look different in the morning.
Pushing to my feet, I turned to face the two men standing there. “Look. I know you don’t have anywhere to go right this minute, so you’re welcome to stay here. I’ve got guest rooms. One or two, your preference. When you find something, just let me know.”
I started to walk into the house, but they blocked my path.
“We’re not sleepin’ in the guest room,” the pretty boy stated.
“Whatever.” I didn’t care if they slept outside. That was their prerogative.
“You have two choices,” the cowboy said.
I glared back at him. “Do I?”
“Yes.” He squared his shoulders. “Either we continue our nightly routine and we sleep under your bed where you want us”—he paused, his eyes scanning my face—“or we’re sleepin’ in your bed. Those are your choices.”
