effectively cutting her off from the exit.
Shit.
“Hear what?” She did her best to appear aloof despite the fear gripping her insides.
“Do I look that stupid?” He sneered down at her.
“Well, now that—” He cocked his eyebrow, contorting his face into the visage of a nightmare.
He paced forward, forcing her to take steps back until her butt hit the desk in front of the bank of video monitors. He raised his hand and Melody quickly tried to process an escape scenario. He didn't strike her, but instead leaned over her, pressing the black talk button.
“Hey, Drake. I think you'd better come to your office. We have a problem.” Melody breathed in sharply as the demon brushed past her, putting some space between her and the door.
This might be my only chance.
She sprinted by the demon, hoping for a little luck. He grabbed at her, only catching the edge of her top. With fear and adrenaline rushing through her, her nails extended to talons as she sliced at his wrist. The demon screeched in agony as he released her shirt, blood from his arm squirting across her face. Melody took off in a sprint, or as much as she could in her four-inch designer heels.
She cleared the office doorway and took off toward the club entrance. Running and stumbling, she made it to the foyer, and with a quick glance behind, heaved a sigh of relief that she'd gotten away.
Thunk.
She ran into something hard, bouncing back only to be caught by warm familiar arms.
“Going somewhere, sweetheart?”
Her heart thudded in her chest as her oxygen-starved brain forced her lungs to work overtime. The steely determination in his eyes told her she wasn't going anywhere. She was trapped.
Melody slumped against him as her heart shattered in pieces again. She'd managed to screw everything up by letting him get to her. Even with a new look, some things never changed.
“Come on, babe; let's go have ourselves a chat.” Drake scooped her into his arms, carrying her back toward his office. Thank goodness it was still early, and no customers were in the club to witness her humiliation.
What was that old saying? “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”
* * *
Drake dumped her in the deep chair away from the bed so he'd be slightly less tempted to do something he shouldn't. Despite her evident anger and pain, he felt the need to show her once again who was in control in this relationship. He thought to tie her hands behind her back and put her on her knees in front of him. A good flogging would give his girl the focus she so needed. He shifted his already swelling cock in his pants, trying to get his mind off the image of her lips wrapped around him.
Dammit.
She'd heard the words he'd spoken to a demon he didn't fully trust, not his true thoughts, but rumblings of former plans.
Now covered in blood from her attack of his friend, she needed to get cleaned up again. He walked into the bathroom and grabbed a cloth, running it under the hot water. His mind raced with thoughts he didn't need to say until he had everything figured out. The bedroom door handle jiggled, letting him know his fiery little hellcat was up trying to figure a way out. The corners of his mouth couldn't help but crinkle up in a grin. There was nowhere for her to go. She would have to stay here and hear him out.
Without glancing in her direction, he exited the bathroom and crossed to the bureau in the corner. He searched through drawers for some clothes she could change into instead of the blood-soaked leather she now wore. The wound she'd inflicted on his guard may not have been fatal, but it sure made a hell of a mess.
Drake sat down in the chair opposite hers. “Come here, Melody.” He patted his knee.
“I don't think so, Drake.” Her features hardened as she spoke, her arms crossing in front of her. He couldn't blame her for being angry. What she'd heard was damning. He needed to explain the whole truth, make her understand his true self and
Kate McKinley
Ariel London
Linda Lael Miller
Penny Warner
Holly Dae
Daniel Powell
Ryszard Kapuściński
Ken Benton
George P. Saunders
Aubrey St. Clair