I grinned at her. “Go ahead, princess,” I said, as the sounds of smashing drifted in from down the hall. Stefano and Tomaso loved their jobs.
She walked over to the desk and tentatively picked up the monitor. “Are you sure about this?” she asked.
I picked up another bottle: fancy gin. The guy was such a goddamn cliché. I took a long pull, then smashed it. “I’m sure,” I said. “We need to send him a message.”
Ash raised the monitor up over her head then smashed it down. The screen popped and broke against the carpet and she laughed with shocked glee. “Holy shit,” she said. “That felt good.”
I picked up a bottle of vodka and gestured with it. “Go nuts,” I said. “Make sure nothing’s left standing.”
“You really think this’ll scare him?” she asked.
“Maybe not scare him,” I said. “But it’ll send the right message.”
“Which is what?” She walked around to the back of the desk and started ripping the drawers open. She threw pens, papers, folders, financial documents, an old calculator, a wad of condoms, several small alcohol bottles, tape, pocket knives, a screwdriver, a remote control, decks of cards, wireless computer mice, and more miscellaneous junk onto the floor. She stomped on what could be stomped, smashing it all into a pile.
I leaned over the desk toward her then brushed everything on top onto the floor. Books and pictures and small horse statues scattered along the rug.
“That we can come for him,” I said. “That his office isn’t safe. His house isn’t safe. His money doesn’t make him invincible.”
“I like that message,” she said, and turned to the bookshelves. She ripped things down, broke more pictures, tore pages from books, and threw everything onto the pile.
She beamed as she did it. She glowed like an angel, a huge smile on her lips, clearly loving every second as she ripped through the room, a whirlwind of mayhem, a destroying beast. I took another bottle of alcohol, this time scotch, and leaned against the wall sipping and watching her go to down. She was sweating from the work as she stomped, smashed, and ruined everything in sight, and laughed to herself as she did it.
After a few more minutes, there wasn’t as much to throw onto the floor. The formerly pristine office was a miasma of glass and paper. Ash stepped over the wreckage gingerly and came toward me, a sheen on her forehead, her eyes glistening. In the other room, Stefano hooted. Probably found some cash.
“How’d I do?” she asked, stopping right in front of me. She grabbed the bottle of scotch and took a hit.
I tilted my head and looked down at her—long legs in dark jeans, tight black tank top, hair up in a messy bun. She grinned back at me, a little uncertain, and I reached out unable to help myself.
I pulled her against me. She let out a soft gasp, pressed her hands on my chest—but didn’t fight me. I held her hips, feeling her body against mine, a pulse in my throat, my cock half-hard thinking about fucking her right there on the desk, leave another little gift for Stuart, but knew we didn’t have time for that, and besides, she was a lady.
I kissed her neck. “You’re perfect,” I said.
“You just want another taste of the other night,” she said, hitting me softly with her palms. “And it’s not going to happen.”
I kissed her and bit her lower lip. “Says the girl that moans every time I touch her.”
“Asshole.” She pushed herself again, still grinning and gorgeous. “You really are a bastard, you know?”
I caught her wrist and pulled her against me. I turned her and pinned her against the wall, crushing her body with my weight. I wanted her to feel my hard cock, wanted her to know what I was thinking as I kissed her. She melted against me, moaned into my lips. Something shattered nearby, and she tried to pull away, but I held her there. I took her arms and pushed them above her head, kissed her throat, bit her lip, and stared into her eyes.
“I really am,” I whispered and her pretty, plump lips hung open.
Stefano came in through the door. He stared at us, and I watched him out of the corner of my eye.
Nobody moved or spoke until Stefano cleared his throat. “Uh, boss,” he said. “I think we’re almost done.”
Ash stared into my eyes, mouth hanging open, her pretty pink tongue against her straight white teeth. God, I wanted that tongue, wanted to feel it lapping up and down my cock while my fingers slid in and out of her tight, soaking wet pussy.
“Boss?” Stefano said. “We should go.”
I released Ash. She let out a soft squeal and rubbed her wrists, cheeks blazing red, and couldn’t bring herself to look at Stefano, who grinned at me huge and winked.