Savage Savior (Savage People 3)

The office was basic, but nice. Bare except for a desk with a computer, a couple filing cabinets on one side, and a couch and coffee table on the other. There was a double-glazed, soundproof window that overlooked the dance floor, but the people down there couldn’t see through it.

“Uh, say what, now?”

“You heard me. You will come to work every night, but instead of serving, you will come straight up here and help me sort out this clusterfuck of files. You’ll wear your normal clothes…”

I made a show out of eyeing her scantily clad form from head to toe, licking my lips in the process. Come to think about it, I couldn’t concentrate at all while she was wearing this little number.

“Do you have a change of clothes?”

She gave me an almost imperceptible shake of her head, her mouth set in a hard line.

“Pity, I guess you’ll just wear what you have on tonight. You are, however, going to walk out of here with a coat, and I don’t even fucking care that it’s ninety degrees outside. Next time you show up at work, you’ll be fully clothed and won’t resemble a dayshift hooker in any way. Understood?”

Shock registered on her face before she hardened her features. She crossed her arms, cocked a hip, and raised an eyebrow. God, she was sexy when she was all worked up.

“And just who are you to tell me what to do?”

I smiled what I knew was a devious smile.

“Your new boss.”

When Cole told me I’d been reduced to filing duty, my initial reaction was to be pissed. How dare he make that decision for me? I’d already gotten rid of one controlling asshole when I left Stefano. I wasn’t looking to add another one, especially one that I wasn’t even dating.

Never mind the fact that the new position was actually way more appealing. I wouldn’t have to deal with loud music and drunk people, and I wouldn’t have to wear those heels all night every night. The only part I had been hesitant about was working in such close quarters with him. I didn’t know why Cole was so hell-bent on pursuing me, but working with him was going to make it that much harder to resist him.

Since when did he work at Hot N’ Bothered, anyway? Was he just there to fuck with me? I didn’t know what to think about any of it. Cole, surprisingly, wasn’t too hard to deal with. At least not on the first night. We both sat on the floor in a pile of files, sorting everything alphabetically. We talked and laughed, and of course, bickered; it almost felt…normal. He grazed my legs a few too many times for it to be an accident and looked at me like he was a starving man and I was his next meal, but made no real advances toward me. I didn’t know whether I was relieved or disappointed.

The second night, he came up behind me when I was making copies for some of the new hires. He did that thing where he nuzzled his nose along my neck again, and he almost had me begging for his cock right then and there.

“Jesus Christ, Jade. You don’t even know what you do to me,” he whispered raggedly into my ear. I felt his hardness pressing into my backside, and I don’t know what came over me, but I chose that moment to bend over and grab the copies, causin

g my ass to grind into his need for me. The hitching of his breath egged me on and I wiggled a little, pressing into him harder. Apparently, that was his breaking point because the next second, his heavy hand wrapped around the back of my neck and pinned me to the copy machine. Equal parts surprised and turned on, a whimper slipped out of my mouth. Cole flexed his hips against me punishingly, and I wanted more. So much more. His anger turned me on. I wanted to piss him off and push his buttons, just to watch him explode.

“Is that all you got?” I challenged, trying to keep the desperation I was feeling out of my voice.

Cole’s hands moved to the outside of my thighs and slid upward, underneath my pencil skirt, causing it to ride up to my hips. I swallowed hard, not knowing what he was going to do next. What I didn’t expect, however, was the hard slap! to my ass cheek. I squealed and jumped, but his hand was around my neck once more, holding me in place. His other hand that rubbed the sting out of my ass soothingly was such a contrast to the harshness of his voice, when he gritted out, “Don’t let your mouth write checks your ass can’t cash, little girl.”

Without another word, he was gone. And I was left draped over the copy machine with my ass exposed, wondering what the fuck just happened.

I didn’t know what got into me, but I immediately regretted practically throwing myself at him. It had been so long since I’d hooked up with anyone, and hooking up with another mobster was out of the question. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. The next night, I was feeling extra embarrassed and conflicted knowing I had to face him again. My plan was to act like nothing happened and focus on work, but of course, Cole had other plans.

I entered the office feigning nonchalance.

“’Sup,” I said with an awkward nod in his direction. I rolled my eyes at myself, no doubt making myself look even cooler. Why did this beast of a man make me so fucking socially awkward? So, he was a real-life Thor. No big deal.

Cole chuckled a deep grumble of a laugh behind his desk and pushed two shot glasses in my direction. He was so gorgeous it was borderline infuriating. His face was almost pretty, but everything else about him, from the scar over his right eyebrow and his broad shoulders to the massive hands that inflicted so much pain in the ring, screamed violence. The juxtaposition just made him that much hotter to me. This man was deadly. In more ways than one. His hair was in that man bun that drove me insane, and those amber eyes had two permanent creases between them, making him look every bit of the bad boy that he was. I didn’t stand a chance. He cocked an eyebrow at my obvious gawking, I’m sure, and I snapped out of my daze.

“Drinking on the job, Mr. Savage? I don’t think that’s very professional.” I let my purse slide down my arm and drop to the floor where I stood in front of his desk.

“Because short skirts and Harry Potter T-shirts are so professional,” he retorted.

I wore a black, pleated leather skirt that sat high on my hips and flared out with bare legs and black combat boots. On top, I wore a white T-shirt that read, “I’ve got 99 problems, but a snitch ain’t one,” with the golden Harry Potter snitch on it tucked into my skirt.

“Whatever, Muggle.” I plopped down in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“The fuck you just call me?” The confusion on his face made me burst out laughing, and just like that, the awkwardness from the night before was gone.

“Never mind. So, what’s the occasion?” I asked, nodding to the shot glasses.