Page 80 of House of Cards

She’s trapped.

I slow my steps, letting her panic build as she tries the other entrance-only door.

When she realizes she’s trapped, she presses her back to the wall, hands curling into fists at her sides as she faces me with a grim scowl. I slip out of my suit jacket, folding it neatly and laying it on the corner of the desk. Twist open the top button on my shirt, tug my tie loose an inch.

She watches me warily, nostrils flaring.

The light in here is stronger than in the corridors outside, courtesy of a pair of boxed fluorescent tubes, but the colored filters glued over their glass screens turn the room into a monochromatic nightmare. The blood on Zoey’s chin looks like tar. Her eyes are pinpricks of darkness. I can’t imagine how I must look as I unclip my suspenders and fold them just as neatly.

Her eyes dart to where they dangle at my side, clenched in a fist, but the moment I speak, her eyes are on me again.

“Crawl to me, and I’ll let you go.”

“I’d rather crawl through broken glass than pretend I believe you.”

I lift my hand. “Scout’s honor.”

Confusion flickers over her face. “Free, as in I can leave? You’ll let me go…home?” Her voice catches on the last.

“You’ve already cost me one client. After today, probably another two.”

“Aw,” she throws me a sarcastic pout. “Thought they liked their girls with a littlespirit.”

I smile, slow and deliberate. “Last chance, kitten.”

“Fuck. You,” she spits, blood and saliva flying from her lips.

Christ. My cock swells painfully at her defiance. At the thought of her inevitable surrender.

She lunges, trying to dart past me to the exit. I’m faster, cutting her off, herding her toward the desk. She circles away, trying to keep her distance, trying not to let me box her in against the wall.

“I was just doing what you told me to.”

“I saidfight, not dismember,” I tell her, matching her movements step by step.

“What’s the big deal? He’s still got the other ear.” She backs into the desk, momentarily trapped between the solid wood and my advancing form. I close in, hands reaching for her, but she’s quicker than I expected. She grabs a heavy wooden ruler from the desk and swings it at my head.

I catch her wrist before it connects, twisting until she drops the makeshift weapon with a cry of pain. She kicks out, aiming for my groin again, but I’m ready this time. I sidestep, using her momentum to spin her around, slamming her face-down onto the desk.

“Feel that?” I murmur in her ear, my body pinning hers to the cool surface as I grind my dick against her ass. “That’s what you do to me. Every fucking time you run, every fucking time you fight, I just get harder.”

She bucks beneath me, writhing and twisting with surprising strength. And true enough, my cock is ready to rip through the seams as I struggle to subdue her.

Every buck of her hips sends her excuse for a skirt flipping up, teasing me with those grubby, ruffled panties.

They used to be white.

Were his hands dirty when he touched her?

The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. In fact, the moment Luis pinned her down in the mannequin room, the only thing going through my mind was that if he got his dick inside her by the time I reached them, I’d kill him.

Rich had grabbed my arm and yelled something about our clients knowing the rules, that she wasn’t in any real danger. That Molina would only rough her up a little before he fucked her.

I had to shut him up, just like I had to get out of that control room and rescue Zoey.

Except Zoey didn’t need rescuing. Luis didn’t put up much of a fight once she’d ripped off his ear with her teeth. But I didn’t hang around to watch the rest play out. Those cunts were huntingmygirl.

Mine.

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