Page 11 of Shot For Mercy

Come to my office. We need to talk.

I smirk and put my phone down, not bothering to reply. I’m not here on business. I’m here to spend time with my friend, and if Em doesn’t plan on fucking me right on his desk, then I want nothing to do with him. And knowing him, he’s not going to do that. I’m going to be left longing after him for the rest of my life. He’s too loyal.

Matteo looks at me. “Who was that?”

“Your dad.” I shrug. “Asking me to go to his office. He probably saw us on the cameras.”

“So go.” He frowns. “He’ll be pissed if you don’t.”

“Fuck him.” I roll my eyes and Matteo laughs. I guess a stint in prison has made me rebellious. Or just plain stupid. “I’m not here for business. He can wait.”

“You’re being stupid,” he says with a sigh. “You know he’ll have your ass right?”

“So let him have my ass.” I shrug as if I don’t care. I’d let him have my ass in more ways than one, anyway. “And I’m not being stupid, you little shit. I’m being brave.”

“Sure.” He chuckles. “Don’t be a dick, though. He’ll make you pay for it.”

I sigh. He’s probably right. The only problem is that I don’t really seem to care about it much right now. Maybe I want to rile him up. Get a reaction out of him. It might be my only chance for a while. Except just as I lean back on the couch and get comfortable, spreading my legs, and throwing my arm up over Matteo, a bouncer shows up. He’s walking right toward me with purpose, and I tense.

“The boss wants to see you,” he says loudly, “now.”

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” I mutter to Matteo. “Fuck this.”

Matteo just smirks and slaps my ass as I get up, and when I look back at him, he winks. I should probably have a conversation with him soon to let him know it was the last time. That we can’t keep doing that. I know it’ll break him, but I can’t find a way to let him down easy.

I turn around with a frown and follow the bouncer downstairs. He leads me to Emiliano’s office even though I could’ve found it on my own, and knocks on the door. Em shouts to come in, and I open the door and close it behind me. He looks at me with a fire in his eyes that I want to stoke, but I’m glued to the door, my back against it. If he wants me, he can come here.

“When I call, you answer,” he snarls, his white teeth showing like a rabid dog. I look him up and down, appreciating the way his body looks in a suit. Broad shoulders and thick arms filling it perfectly. His face is tight with anger, his jaw pulsing, but I can’t bring myself to care. Instead, I admire his beautiful features: strong jaw, narrow nose, eyes the color of honey. I bet they’d look gorgeous dilated for me.

“You didn’t call.” I shrug. “You texted me. I figured it wasn’t that important, and I’m not here for work.”

“You will be at my disposal any time I call,” Em says through gritted teeth, getting up from his chair and striding quickly toward me. “If I call you at one in the morning, you come to me.”

I smirk. “Those are hoe hours.”Booty call hours. “Are you going to invite me into your bed, Emiliano?”

“Don’t say my name like that.”

“Like what?” I ask innocently.

“Growling it like that.”

“Why not?” A smile tugs at my lips, widening when he’s close enough that our shoes touch. “Does it turn you on?”

“Nothing about you turns me on,” he snaps. “Get it through your head.”

“That’s a lie, and we both know it,” I tell him, grabbing him by his suit jacket and turning him around, slamming his back against the door. His breath whooshes out of him, and I smile in satisfaction, locking the door for good measure. “I bet your cock is hard for me right now, Em.” His eyes widen, then narrow at the nickname. Three years ago, I would’ve never dared to talk to him like this. Maybe I am brave after all, or maybe I just don’t give a fuck about anything. “Should we test that?”

“N-no.”

“Is the big bad boss stuttering?” I chuckle, and his neck turns red. “What, baby? You can’t get your words out?”

“Fuck off, Cole,” he growls, putting his hands on my chest, yet not pushing me away.

“I don’t think you want me to.” I raise my chin in defiance, trying not to look so small, and look right into his brown eyes. “I think—I think you’d like to fuck me. Right, Emiliano?”

“You’re either drunk or just plain stupid.” He shakes his head, but when I press my hand against the front of his slacks, he whimpers. He fuckingwhimpersfor me. I rub the palm of my hand over his hard cock, then unfasten his belt. “Fuck, wait.”

“No waiting,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’ve waited long enough.”

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