The Boss's Runaway

I’m soaking through the black uniform tights just thinking about it. Needing it.

In a flash, I remember he’s ticked off. Right. He crooks his blunt finger at me, a clear demand to come here.

“Do you let him order you around like that?” Faye asks, handing a drink off to one of the men who are seemingly fascinated by my body. Why? Do I look so different than Faye or anyone else? Apparently the answer is yes, because several men are signaling me, holding up cash or casino chips, wanting me to come take their order. “Well,” says Faye, growing annoyed. “Get to work. You don’t want to get complaints on your first night, do you? Locke needs to understand you have a job to do. He’s not your god.”

No. He’s not. Technically.

Even though he does rule quite a lot of me. My body, my heart, my consciousness.

I came to Vegas to stand on my own, though, so doesn’t Faye have a point? I can work now and belong to Locke after my shift. If I’m going to work at the casino, he’ll have to get used to me interacting with men at some point, right?

With a hard swallow, I ignore Locke’s crooked finger and take a few steps closer to the nearest man flashing me money. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Hell yeah you can, gorgeous.” The scent of alcohol wafts toward me on his breath and though he is technically handsome, I couldn’t find him less attractive. “How much to sip it out of your belly button?”

There’s a roar of male laughter around the table. His friends slap him on the back, congratulating him on speaking to me so rudely, knocking over chips in the process. Faye comes up behind me giggling, too, as if it’s no big deal. “Get used to it.” She nudges me in the back. “Suck it up, smile and take his order.”

“Hey, waitress. Bring that sweet ass over here,” someone calls behind me.

“I get her first,” says someone else, groaning. “Wouldn’t even need to pop a Viagra with a pretty thing like that.”

“Um.” My heart is hammering in my ears. “Which drink would you like?” I ask the drunk man in front of me.

He leans closer, leering at my breasts. “You got one that tastes like your cun—”

The man’s head is slammed off the table. With a gasp, I drop my tray and leap back to find the lecher’s hair fisted in Locke’s hand. A hush descends on the casino, but it only lasts a split second before everything moves in a kaleidoscope of mayhem. Everyone jumps up from the table to help their friend, but they take one look at Locke and immediately back away, hands up, palms out. Security rushes forward, but Locke doesn’t seem to notice. No, he slams the man’s head down again, very obviously breaking his nose, blood splattering everywhere.

But he’s not done.

He yanks the half-unconscious man from his hair and lays him out cold with a right cross.

“Locke!” I finally find the voice to scream, throwing myself in front of him. “Stop. Stop!”

Without responding, Locke scoops me up, his face speckled with blood, and strides off the casino floor. Patrons wisely jump out of his path, staring past us in horror at the customer who has been left bleeding in the middle of the floor.

“Is this what you wanted?” Locke growls at me through his teeth. “Did you want to see how close you’ve driven me to the brink of madness?”

“No. No, I didn’t…I never thought it would be this bad.” I bury my face in his neck. “I didn’t believe you. That they would treat me different than any other waitresses.”

He smacks something on the wall behind me. I lift my head to find us standing in front of a row of elevators. One of them dings and he steps inside, growling at the security guards to fuck off before they can join us in the car. “Well now you know, Sissy. Now you know.” He lowers me onto my feet but wastes no time wedging me up against the wall of the elevator, his shaft spearing me in the belly. “Men look at you and see the best fuck they’ll ever have. They know they’ll feel sick for the rest of their lives unless they find a way on top of you. Now. Immediately. I know. I know because I’m experiencing it myself.” He pants against my mouth, his hand coming up between my legs to smack my sex. Fast and hard and repeatedly. “I need my ride. I need your hole. I need it now.”

Everything that happened downstairs fades away and there’s only him. There’s only the piercing lust he has created inside of me. I’m wrapping my arms around his neck and climbing his thick, hearty body, slinging my legs around his waist and going for his mouth. Hungering and seeking and making love to his lips with my own.