I ran a hand through my hair, trying to look sowhat human again. I felt the tension radiating off , the blue-ball ache a dull throb in my lower abdon. Tessa turned around, fixing her stockings and smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt. She looked at , seeing the storm behind my eyes, and a small, sympathetic smile touched her lips.
"Jesus, cowboy," she teased, stepping closer and patting my cheek. "You can always finish this back at the penthouse later tonight. Calm down before you give that guard a heart attack."
I sighed, the anger slowly deflating into a weary frustration. I looked at her—wrecked, beautiful, and still slling like the ss we’d made—and I felt a twinge of guilt.
"Ugh... sorry for having you co all the way down here, Tessa," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "I thought it’d be hot... a quick thrill... but, yeah. Sorry the ending got ruined."
Tessa stepped into my space, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling down for a soft, lingering kiss. She tasted like the afternoon I’d wanted to have.
"Hey," she whispered against my lips, her eyes sparkling. "At least you made cum. I’m not complaining. And plus, you basically ’ordered’ to co here, right? Like a fucking king."
"Hey, you could’ve refused."
"How could I? I live in your penthouse, dumbass." She exhaled. "I have to take your dick in every ti you want. Or you throw out."
"Woah, woah, woah. I was just acting like, like, I don’t know, tough guy for shits and giggles. If you think of like that about I..."
"Yeah. There’s the real you." She said, disappointed a little. "A wuss. ’Bathroom. Now.’ my ass."
"My fucking god, Tessa. I knew it."
"Look at ! I’m Evan Marlowe, the toughest guy in the whole world." She chuckled. "Hey, Tess. Bathroom. Now. I’m gonna fuck you with my pee-pee."
"Gaah. Shut up!"
I couldn’t help but smile at that. I gave her one last squeeze on the ass, feeling the firm curve of her through the fabric of her skirt.
"Anyway," she said. "Like I said, we can continue this tonight. Okay?"
"True," I said. "I’ll make it up to you tonight. Promise."
"I’ll hold you to that, Marlowe."
We both stepped out of the stall, the cold air of the restroom hitting us. I checked my reflection in the mirror, splashed so cold water on my face to kill the flush, and then we both walked out of the n’s bathroom, heading toward the elevators to face the ss waiting downstairs.
The elevator ride felt like an eternity, the steady hum of the motor doing nothing to soothe the frantic, unfulfilled throb in my veins. I adjusted my jacket, checking my reflection in the polished steel doors one last ti.
The doors slid open with a soft chi, and I stepped out into the expansive, high-ceilinged lobby of the corporate wing. The air here was different, scented with expensive floor wax and the hushed, busy energy of people who made too much money.
To my right, near the reception desk, Jasmine was deep in conversation with a departnt lead, her posture professional and commanding. She looked up as I approached, her sharp eyes scanning my face and then dropping to the slight disarray of my collar. She excused herself with a polite nod and walked toward , a knowing, wicked smirk tugging at her lips.
"What, you already finished with Tessa?" she whispered as she reached , her voice dripping with dry amusent. "You’re a bit of a quick-shooter today, aren’t you, Evan? I thought she’d keep you busy for at least an hour."
I shook my head, my jaw tight. "Nah. I didn’t even get to finish. So crazy bastard is here again making a scene. I had to cut it short."
Jasmine’s expression shifted instantly, the playfulness vanishing. She stepped closer, her voice dropping into a serious, guarded tone. "The guy you told us about? The one... with the hidden caras? You think this is the ’K’ person you’ve been looking for?"
I nodded slowly, my gaze drifting past her toward the massive automatic glass doors that led to the street. "Maybe. He’s persistent, he’s unstable, and he’s obsessed with the people in this building. It’s a lead I can’t just ignore, even for a fuck."
"Be careful, Evan," she murmured, her hand briefly brushing my arm. "If he is connected to the caras, he’s more dangerous than he looks."
"I know," I muttered.
I left her standing there and started toward the entrance. Through the glass, I could see the silhouette of the man standing on the sidewalk, frad by the bright, cold light of the afternoon. Sure enough, it was Jack—the sa disheveled, wild-eyed guy who had cornered before, claiming to be Alia’s father.
I pushed through the automatic doors, the sudden gust of freezing city air hitting my face and helping to clear the lingering heat of the restroom. Two of our security guards were already there, looking bored but firm. One of them had a solid, grounding grip on Jack’s wrist, keeping him anchored to the spot while the other stood as a barrier between him and the door.
Jack was agitated, his head twitching as he looked around, but the mont he saw step out onto the pavent, his entire body went rigid. His eyes locked onto mine with a terrifying, singular focus.
"You!" he croaked, his voice cracking against the wind. "You’re the one! I know you’re the one holding her!"
I stopped a few feet away, exhaling a cloud of white mist into the air. I folded my arms, looking him up and down with a cold, detached boredom that I didn’t entirely feel.
"We need to talk, Jack," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "And this ti, you’re going to tell exactly who sent you."
"Who sent ?" he muttered. "Just let see my Alia."
"There’s no ’your Alia,’ you moron," I said, my voice coming out a bit louder than I intended. "You couldn’t even get her surna right."
"Just let talk to her," he insisted. "You’ll see. Just... just get her down here. Are you keeping her against her will or sothing? Can’t you call her and ask her to co downstairs?"
"I could," I said. "But I won’t." I turned to the security guards. "You two can head inside. I’ve got this."
"Are you sure, Mr. Marlowe?" one of them asked.
"Yeah. Thanks."
They exchanged a look, then went back inside. The automatic doors slid shut behind them. The area outside was empty now—looks like they had already cleared everyone out. Good. No audience.
I looked back at him.
"Why the caras?" I asked.
"Huh?"
"The caras," I repeated. "Why did you set them up?"
"Kid, I have no idea what you’re talking about," he said. "What caras?"
"Don’t bullshit ," I said, stepping closer. "Just tell the truth."
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Persuasion Attempt: Jack
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☐☐☐☐☐
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Remaining Chances: 0/4
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Good. Honeyed Words triggered.
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