Page 37 of Cannon
The image her words painted made my pussy purr, and I had to bite down on my lower lip to keep from making a sound. Because she was right. In that moment, when Cannon’s hand was wrapped around my throat and his voice was promising allkinds of punishment, I’d wanted nothing more than to spread my legs and let him take whatever he wanted.
That should’ve terrified me. Instead, it made me wetter.
I tried to focus on something else, anything else, and my eyes landed on my purse sitting on the corner of my desk. The black leather seemed to mock me, reminding me of what was tucked inside. My stomach dropped as the heat of arousal gave way to something colder, sharper.
The note.
It had been on my mind all day, which is why I was rude to Cannon in the first place. But then I’d almost forgotten about it in the chaos of Cannon’s hands on me, but now it came rushing back like a slap to the face. I reached for my purse with hands that suddenly felt numb, my fingers fumbling with the clasp.
“What’s wrong?” Nori’s voice shifted, concern replacing her teasing tone.
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. Because there it was, that folded piece of paper that had been haunting me all night, tucked between my lipstick and my phone charger like a Smoke waiting to strike.
I know what you did. And you’re gonna pay.
The words hadn’t changed, but they felt different now. Heavier. Like they carried more weight than just ink on paper.
My skin prickled, goosebumps rising along my arms despite the warmth of my office. The same throat that had been burning with want just moments before now felt tight, constricted, like invisible hands were squeezing the air out of me. My pulse, which had been racing with arousal, now hammered with something uglier.
Fear.
Pure, cold fear that started in my chest and spread through my body like poison.
“Queen, what is that?” Nori leaned forward, trying to get a look at the paper in my hands.
I folded it quickly, shoving it back into my purse. “Nothing. Just… business stuff.”
But it wasn’t nothing. It was everything. It was something I had done when I was just a little girl. And ultimately it was my mother’s fault.
I know what you did.
But what exactly did they know? And more importantly, who the hell were they?
My mind raced through possibilities, each one worse than the last. Someone had been watching me. Someone had seen something they shouldn’t have. Someone knew enough to leave a note on my car, in my space, close enough to touch what was mine.
The thought made my stomach turn.
I pressed my fingers to my throat again, but this time it wasn’t to feel Cannon’s lingering touch. It was to make sure I could still breathe, still swallow around the lump of terror that was trying to choke me.
And you’re gonna pay.
Those words echoed in my head like a promise, and I knew with bone-deep certainty that whoever had written them wasn’t playing games. This wasn’t some idle threat from a disgruntled ex or a jealous competitor. This was something darker, something that reached back into the shadows I’d spent years trying to escape.
Something that could destroy everything I’d built.
Nori started packing up her laptop, still grinning like she’d witnessed the event of the century. “Girl, I can’t wait to see what happens when y’all are alone again. That man got your whole energy shifted.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen,” I said, but even I didn’t believe the lie coming out of my mouth.
“Mmm-hmm.” She slipped her computer into her bag, those knowing eyes still studying me. “You keep telling yourself that. Meanwhile, your legs still pressed together like you trying to keep something from spilling out.”
I shifted in my chair, hating how accurate she was. “You got too much mouth tonight,” I rolled my eyes.
“And you got too much attitude for somebody who just got put in her place by six-foot-five of pure big dick energy.” She stood up, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “But hey, keep fighting it. Make it more interesting when you finally let him tear that ass up.”
My stomach clenched at her words, but not with arousal this time. With something sharper, more desperate. Because the truth was, I couldn’t afford to be thinking about Cannon’s hands on my body or what he might do to me behind closed doors. I had bigger problems. Deadlier problems.
Problems folded up in my purse like a ticking bomb.
