Page 138 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
Damon’s eyes flew open, and the absolute volcanic rage in them locked onto Michael. His cheeks puffed while he tried to control his breathing, and he bared his teeth.
“I know you’re mad, but we’re okay now,” Michael said, keeping his tone steady. “Look, Jamison is here to see you.”
Damon turned his head. When his eyes found hers, the breath in his lungs caught. “No,” he rasped. “No.”
“Yeah,” Michael said, patting his chest. “It’s about that time, big guy. I’m going to bring your girls in for dinner and a bath. Don’t fight them, okay? Bruce will hang out here while they work. Is that good?”
From the doorway, Emmett piped up, “Are you sure you want me to leave? If he gets loose—”
“You’re dead, Emmett,” Michael said flatly. “If Damon Fairweather gets loose, you die. This fucker might not like me, but you? Touching his sister the way you do? You’re a dead man, and I bet he’ll make it hurt. I know you think these Fairweathers are just corporate types, but look at Tobias. He was a doctor—sworn to help and heal. Look what he did to those women. Did you see the photos? The way he took their eyes? Taylor said she saw him do it with nothing but his bare fingers and a pair of pliers.”
A flicker of fear touched Emmett’s features. “Damon Fairweather is nothing like Tobias Miller.”
“Don’t think so? You weren’t with us when we brought him in. He’s got that same kind of crazy.” Michael chuckled softly. “Honestly, they all do. Take your little hellcat down there. I bet Emily would love to remove your eyeballs with only her fingers if we gave her the chance.”
“Already planning worse,” Emily snarled as she moved to crouch on the mattress. “But thanks for the idea.”
“You’re most welcome.” Michael sneered as Emmett stumbled to the door. “Now, go tell Krystal and Jessica to bring Damon’s dinner.”
The door slammed shut behind Emmett, and Michael huffed in exasperation. “I know I’ve said this before, but these are the dumbest fuckers we have ever encountered.”
Bruce shook his head and sat on the floor. “Come on, girls. Backs against the wall. I’ve got to cuff you before Krystal and Jessica get here.”
“No biting, Claudia,” Michael ordered as he reached over Jamison to loosen Damon’s restraints. “Same goes for you, big guy. Don’t hurt the ladies.”
At the first hint of slack, Damon tried to lunge for Michael, which only made the sadistic bastard laugh. “I’m going to tell you what I told your sisters. Be good.”
“Madi,” Damon choked. “Where’s Madi?”
Michael turned serious. “Safe. I promise.”
“I get to see her tomorrow, D.” Claudia’s labored breathing sounded like she was still upset and close to losing it again, especially when the clatter of her chains scraped across the floor. “I get to see my Madi. So please... don’t hurt anyone.”
Damon settled, his deadened stare fixed on the ceiling, while Bruce secured Claudia and Emily. Thinking she was next to get the chain treatment, Jamison braced herself, but Bruce nor Michael made any move to do so.
Noticing how her gaze had begun to frantically volley between Bruce and himself, Michael leaned down to whisper directly in her ear. “You should have enough juice to keep you docile, but if you act up, I’ll restrain you, too. Got me?”
She nodded, her insides shrinking in terror. A few more agonizing minutes passed, and the food arrived, except the person delivering it wasn’t who they expected.
“Mama’s here,” Taylor sang, balancing a tray in one hand as she swung the door open. “I’m ready to serve my man his dinner.”
Damon’s eyes closed, a tear slipping from one corner. His chest rose and fell with the pull of oxygen in and out of his flared nostrils. Jamison inched closer, as if she could use her body to shield him from Taylor.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Taylor cooed, setting the tray on the dresser. “Why isshenext to him?”
Before Jamison could react, Michael scooped her up and held her out of the way as Taylor climbed onto the bed to straddle Damon’s thighs. Her short skirt hiked high, revealing the curve of her ass as she ran her hands over his chest.
“He’s so freaking pretty!” Taylor squealed. “Especially like this. Around the office, you’re this impenetrable dickhead that just snaps at people. It’s hot, for sure, but seeing you like this? Oh, baby, you are just wrapped up in a pretty bow all for me.”
The woman named Krystal, along with another woman, stood in the doorway, watching. They craned their necks to see the action, eagerly taking in the scene. Jamison fisted her hands, fighting the urge to drag Taylor off Damon by her hair. However, even though the drugs in her system were dissipating at a rapid rate, she couldn’t risk it and stayed cradled against Michael’s chest.
Taylor leaned down and kissed Damon’s mouth, slowly shifting her weight until she was grinding against his hips. “I can feel that,” she whispered. “Is it for me? Should we move your sisters out so we can have a little privacy?”
Jamison would swear Damon was turning multiple shades of green under Taylor, and she hoped he vomited right into the bitch’s mouth.
“Come on, Taylor. He’s half-drugged and doesn’t know where he is or who you are,” Michael said, trying to reason with her. “And he looks like he’s about to throw up.”
That got Taylor moving.
