Page 113 of The Secrets That Kill

When I’m in this headspace, everything is right in the world.

So I smile a little more and go for his cock, determined to make him come here and now in this exclusive club.

Mercer’s fingers catch my hair and he stops me. “No, Pollyanna. I said you might bite off more than you can handle, and I think you just did with that shit-eating smile. It’s beyond brat. It’s a thing that screams punish me. And I think I need to.”

“Please—”

“She can’t even remember to fucking call me Master or even Sir.” He sounds disgusted, but the light catching the little uptick of his mouth tells me very different things. I reach for his cock.

“I just want to do this.” Then I remember in my sudden, wild desperation. “Sir.”

“Put me away. Now.” His eyes narrow, his voice tinged with aggravation.

I slide my hand over him, pulling him, squeezing. He gives his head the merest shake.

To anyone who can’t see us, he must look like he’s talking to himself.

I giggle. A silly little sound that’s slightly slurred.

He sighs. “Put. My. Fucking. Dick. Away.”

I do, but not before running my finger over the tip, gathering a little of the precum and putting my finger in my mouth.

“You little fucking tease. You’re a bad girl.”

I glare at him, my body shaking not with humiliation, but with anger. I need him. I have to have him. And the bastard is denying me. “You’re a bad master.”

“Oh, I am, am I?”

His hand coils harder in my hair and he pushes my face into his crotch. He’s so hard I ache. Then he lifts my head.

“Because I won’t let you act out? Get it through your head, little girl. You’re mine to control, mine to use however I want. You will obey or there will be consequences. How many times is it going to take to sink into your thick skull?”

He tugs my hair harder. My eyes sting.

“We’re going.”

He lets go of me and gets up, leaving me to crawl out on my own, embarrassed, shamed. When I look around, I don’t see him.

I get up and hurry across the room, way too aware of the whispers and laughter that follow me through the crowds of people.

“Honey, if he doesn’t want you, I got a fat one for you to suck,” someone says as I finally get to the door.

Before I can take a step, Mercer’s back. He grabs the guy who propositioned me and punches him. Hard. The man goes down like a bag of bricks.

I’m frozen, I don’t know what to do. And Mercer’s face is a blaze of cold rage and savagery.

“I never fucking said I don’t want her. She’s mine. I ever catch you near her again, I’ll end you.” With that, like he didn’t just turn into some dangerous, violent man, he straightens, dusts himself off and goes over to the hostess.

“Mr. Vale?”

“Deal with that. Someone from downstairs will take care of it. Whatever it costs.”

And before I can process what just happened, he grabs my arm and hauls me to the elevator.

The ride is silent. His eyes now glitter with dark rage. A shiver slips down my spine. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t even look at me.

The elevator door opens and he answers the phone.

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