Page 14 of His Plaything (Slade, Inc.)

Chapter Thirteen

Mr. Slade growled, and it affected Morgan more than she would have thought. Some of her anger was slipping into a need for him. A rushed desire was building. Why did that small sound do that to her? He tilted his head downward while narrowing his eyes on her. It felt like he was creating a vacuum around them. It was harder for her to breathe.

"Come with me, Morgan. I don't like people doubting me. Especially you."

Especially me? Did he mean that in a rude way or in a flattering way? She didn't have time to question him. Her boss swiftly grabbed her by the upper arm and started briskly walking toward his door. Morgan squeaked in protest. He wasn't being gentle. He wasn't worried about letting her catch up, either. Mr. Slade was on a mission.

When he reached the door, he threw it opened and hurriedly marched down the hall with large steps. Morgan was having trouble keeping up in her heels. She was practically jogging as they came to the end of the hall.

Standing just outside the break room was Cade. He was holding a cup of coffee with a stunned look. When they got closer, though, his lips pulled up into a cocky smirk. He nodded at Mr. Slade, who paid him little attention. Morgan looked wide-eyed at the man as Mr. Slade rushed them past him.

They were soon standing next to Marcie's desk. She was on a phone call, but when she saw Mr. Slade, she instantly told the person on the line that she needed to put them on hold. Mr. Slade barely waited for her hand to click the conversation to mute.

"Marcie, please tell Ms. White how Ms. Wilson came to work here this week."

Morgan was instantly irritated with this conversation. Her boss seemed to be on Marcie's team. She twisted in his hand, but Mr. Slade held her arm firmly. A sense of embarrassment had her face heating up further.

Marcie stood from her chair, her stare bouncing back and forth between the two standing before her. Morgan thought she saw a bit of laughter in the other girl's eyes.

"Well, you informed me that we would need extra help for a week or so. I called one of our normal agencies. That's about it." This time when Marcie looked at Morgan, she was sure she saw bitchy glee.

"Did I request Ms. Wilson?" Mr. Slade's hand squeezed Morgan a bit harder. In a twisted way, it seemed almost comforting.

"No, sir."

"What did I say when you were finished scheduling help?"

"You asked if the assignment could be changed, but I was told Ms. Wilson was the only temp available with the skills we needed."

Morgan scowled at Marcie. Was it her imagination, or had the receptionist emphasized that word strangely? She watched as Marcie's face drew up into a polite smile that appeared a bit off. Morgan had the urge to hop over the woman's desk and "kindly" wipe it off for her.

"Thank you. You may get back to your call." Mr. Slade nodded to her and then quickly turned away from her.

As he pulled Morgan back away from the desk, her mind was swirling. Should she believe that he had no hand in Shay showing up? Should she believe Marcie that she had been the only choice? Morgan was still leaning toward "no". The conversation seemed rehearsed, or was that just Morgan's insecurity telling her that?

Just as they rounded the corner to head back to his office, Mr. Slade paused. Morgan was breathing so heavily that she felt she might hyperventilate. Her boss looked down the hall and then back toward a smaller part of the hallway that led to the fire exit. Morgan had no clue what he was pondering, but he looked tense.

"Morgan, you know what happens when I get overly stressed and worked up. And I believe part of the reason you're here is to help me with that." His expression softened.

He stared at her almost as if he was waiting for her permission. Morgan wasn't sure, but she slowly nodded. Then her mouth popped open, but only a rushed breath came from her. She pulled slightly on her arm, thankful now that there were no coworkers in the hallway.

He leaned into her, his eyes wild. The green in them seemed to be almost swirling with extra colors. "It seems I need to remind you who my dick wants."

****

Connor stood there, staring at her. His heart was racing but not from nerves. His annoyance was palatable. The scary thing was that it wasn't just irritation at Morgan for disbelieving him. There was a bit of anger there for the fact that he was more "tied down" now. He slightly resented the fact that he had to answer to her. If he wanted to fuck Shay, he had no doubt she'd say yes. He was an asshole for even thinking about it.

This little romp with Ms. White would be more than just relieving his stress, at the moment. This fuck would be to get his mind back on track. To remind himself that he only wanted her. Right?

Of course, don't be an idiot.

Connor exhaled a deep breath and watched her expression change. She looked nervous, but he could see her lust and need growing by the second. She wanted this, too.

"Come on." He pulled her toward the fire exit.

When they reached it, Connor harshly pushed the stairwell door open. It was a heavy, metal door. This was the stairwell he usually came up after his runs, and this wasn't his first experience using it for more than just a way in or out the building.

He pulled Morgan into the stairwell, she gasped in surprise as the door shut behind them. There was a loud echo that rang out up and down the stairs. Her eyes were wide as she looked around. She was on edge. Perfect.

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