Vik (Shot Callers 2)

Anika

My heel-covered feet gently clip-clopped down the hall as they carried me closer to my destination.

This was a bad idea.

The worst.

And yet, I kept walking, closer and closer to my heart’s forbidden desire.

The nearer I drew, the thicker my throat became, and by the time I got to where I was going, it felt as though I swallowed a considerable amount of sand.

My eyes focused on the closed door, and I stood there a moment, lifting my hand, then hesitating. Licking my lips and trying again, I shut my eyes tightly as I put my knuckle to the cool wood and knocked.

Why he closed the door, I didn’t know.

It was close to 4:00 a.m., and there wasn’t another soul in sight.

Tonight was my first shift as bar manager. Nas stuck around a while, and when she was satisfied that I had everything under control, she rounded the bar with her trademark wide smile, wrapped her arms around me, and held me close for a full minute as she quietly hyped me up.

“You know what has to be done. You’ve seen me do it a thousand times before. You’ve got this. There is nobody I trust in this position more than I trust you.” She pulled back and placed her warm hand on my cheek. “You’re going to kill it, honey.”

Her confidence was unwavering, and wouldn’t you know it? That confidence flowed right through me, taking root with a certainty and conviction that borderlined cocky. And she was right.

I killed it.

Bleeding Hearts closed its doors at 3:00 a.m. Birdie and I went about counting the tills. I placed the money in a lockable bank bag, and when Birdie asked me if I was coming, I told her I wanted to do a little inventory before I left. As the mocha-skinned beauty said goodbye, I held a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other, lightly waving her off.

The moment she was gone, I placed the clipboard down on the bar and contemplated exactly what the plan was here.

The truth was, I didn’t have one. I knew what I wanted, but how to get there was an open-ended question.

Time passed slowly, and one by one, I watched employees leave until I was sure we were the only two people left in the building. My breathing turned choppy, and my stomach twisted, but I sought him out anyway.

My knuckle lightly knocked on the door, and without waiting for a response, I entered. And the moment I saw him, looking as weary as he was, my heart stuttered.

His shirt was unbuttoned one button too many, and his sleeves were pushed up his forearms, revealing the toned, lightly-veined flesh that made my stomach shimmy. Those whisky eyes that seemed to see everything locked onto me.

I held up the bank bag and forced a tiny smile. “Where do you want this?”

His small, stern movements as he sat up straight told me he was irritated. “On the desk is fine.”

My nod was slight.

Maybe tonight wasn’t the night.

I approached his desk and placed the bag onto the corner of it, then stalled. When he noticed, his thick brow rose. “Is that all?”

Lord. He made no qualms about it. He let me know every single day since that awful slap at Lidi’s birthday party that he was pissed at me. And I deserved it. I should never have put my hands on him in anger.

Regret was the worst of feelings, and right now, I felt it so strongly that it pierced my soul, a shard of broken glass being pressed into the area right above my heart.

Tonight.

It had to be tonight.

Now or never.

I let out a short breath and slowly rounded the table. He watched me carefully as I took up his space and lowered my bottom to the edge of the desk, sitting close enough to his chair that I was able to smell his spicy masculine scent.

I wondered if he could scent my need.

The aggravation he wore should not have affected me the way it did. I felt my nipples bead and my core pulse, just once, and very, very slowly, I forced my knees apart, spreading my legs. Completely unashamed, his dark gaze shot to the tiny black lace panties that covered my needy sex. The miniskirt I wore rode up around my hips, and when I placed a hand on my thigh, leisurely bringing it to the place I desired it most, Sasha took in a stammering breath, watching my middle finger slide up and down my lace-covered slit.

An offering. One of which was all I had, and to give it meant something to me. I hoped it would mean something to him too.

Me, on a silver platter.

He rumbled, “What are you doing, Ani?” without ever taking his gaze off my sex.

I swallowed hard but forced a shy smile. “I must be doing a terrible job if it’s not obvious.”