Page 108 of Rebel Revenge

Like we had all the time in the world, he drove in and out of me until he couldn’t take it another minute.

He finally let me drop to the floor, but didn’t move away, his body still pressed against mine. He kissed the top of my head while we caught our breath then nudged my head back so I was staring up into his eyes.

His expression turned serious. “You can’t wear that to the party. I will fuck you on every available surface if you do. That costume is catnip.”

“I already chose another one for the party.”

He ran his finger down the center of my chest, between my tits and down my stomach to circle my belly button. “Good. Get dressed. But tell the cashier we’re taking both.”

27

CALEB

Harold Coker’s office was bigger than mine, had a better view, and was closer to the city center.

All things that irked me.

On arrival I’d offered my sympathies on the recent death of his business partner, Bart Weston. But the pompous prick had droned on ever since, sitting at the head of a long rectangular table in his boardroom, preaching to the rest of us about a new business deal he’d just made worth more money than I’d ever seen on a contract.

Another thing I really didn’t like.

I refused to let that show. On the outside I was a focused and determined man, with only one mission on my mind.

Making these men my acquaintances.

I was the youngest in the room by at least fifteen years. Most of these men were my father’s age, and they acted like I was the baby of the group. Which meant I had to work twice as hard as anyone else to gain half the respect and trust.

Also fucking irksome.

I wanted to stand up and yell I was more talented than any of them. That my company would one day leave theirs in the dust, and I wouldn’t fucking look back.

But that wasn’t how one got to the top.

No. You caught more flies with honey than vinegar.

Which was why I’d asked Bethany-Melissa to marry me. People liked her, and having a wife on my arm, one who was the daughter of another respected businessman, would make me seem older. More settled and mature. More like one of the old boys who loved to bitch about their ball and chains.

I clenched my fingers around the armrest of my chair. I could still barely believe everything that ungrateful bitch had done. Fucking slut, running around with three men from the Saint View slums like the common piece of gutter trash she was.

She embarrassed me every minute of every day.

Fucking her little best friend and hearing her scream had barely taken the tip off my hate for the woman who’d betrayed me.

She was just like all the others. All sluts, the lot of them. Only good for sucking my cock.

I didn’t need a bitch.

Harold dismissed the meeting right at five, and I stood slowly, letting the room empty out before I strode toward the man who’d hosted the gathering. I pasted on my most charming smile. It worked on both men and women. “Harold. I just wanted to tell you how inspirational you are. That Simpson deal is the stuff of legend. I’m so impressed.”

Harold’s barrel chest puffed up, and if it were even possible, I was sure I saw his ego inflate.

“You like that? I’m barely getting started. By the end of the year, I’ll have much more impressive figures to report.”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but though he was a dickhead, he wasn’t top of our field for nothing. He probably would have more impressive numbers at the next meeting, and I’d be stupid to insult the man. Sucking up his ass might have grated every nerve I had, but I could swallow that pride if it got me where I needed to be.

I was destined for the top and willing to do whatever got me there.

“I’d really love to hear more about it. Maybe over a game of golf? I have a reservation at The Royal if you’d like to join me this weekend?”

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