gonna need your strength before heading back to Brock’s because you are going back, aren’t you?”
Although she phrased her sentence like a question, it was clearly an order. A friendly order but an order nonetheless. “Yeah, I probably should eat something first.” But she wasn’t in the mood for food anymore, not with the swarm of locusts making a meal of her stomach lining.
Just what the hell was she gonna do about Brock?
She and Anne settled back down at the table and Anne placed a single-serve brown Starbucks bag in front of Viv. “Dig in, sweetie, and while we chow, I’ll give you a crash course in BDSM 101.”
* * * * *
Not even the comfortable confines of Restrained Fantasies did a damn thing to uncoil Brock’s foul mood.
He picked up his cell phone for the millionth time but immediately dropped it back to his desk. In his last voicemail, he’d told Viv he understood her reaction and that he’d give her time to think. That had been two days ago.
Two!
He’d go after her if he had any fucking idea where to actually go. She wasn’t at home. A well-timed visit and chat with the maid had revealed that. And it wasn’t as if he could ask his brother. He could only imagine how that conversation would go.
Where the hell was she? If she didn’t call back by the end of the day, he would start calling hospitals and morgues. Frustration and fear tightened the chains around his chest. Please, god, just let her be safe.
“Knock, knock, boss.”
The sultry sound of a female voice snapped Brock from his panicking. Raven Malek, his full-figured, raven-haired bartender, stood just outside his open office door. Purple streaks contrasted against her messy, multilayered, blacker-than-black hair. Tattoos ran the length of her arms, crisscrossed over her shoulders and finished off by wrapping delicately around her neck. She was striking, but not in a pretty way. She was hot in a very unique, very Raven kind of way.
“Sorry to bother you,” she began, “but there’s someone downstairs asking to see you.”
“Christ.” The last thing he wanted to deal with was people, especially if it was foodservice salespeople inquiring about providing services for Ravenous. He didn’t do well with those people on his best days, and today was about as far removed from a good day as he could get. He’d be more likely to tell them where they could shove their product than engage in anything remotely productive.
“Tell whoever it is I said to fuck off. I’m busy.” The second the harsh words left his lips, he regretted them. He scrubbed a palm over his head and tried desperately to rein in his temper. “But please don’t use those words, Raven.”
“You know I never would, boss.” But Raven didn’t move.
“Is there something else?”
“Yes. It’s just…the person downstairs…well…I’m pretty sure she’s here for personal reasons.”
She? Personal? Hope lurched in his chest. “Who is she?”
“Vivi—”
“Thank fucking god.” With an agility he didn’t know he possessed until now, he bolted for the door, no doubt startling the hell out of his employee. But he really couldn’t summon the effort to give a rat’s ass.
Viv was here.
He bypassed the elevator and headed straight for the stairwell. He practically leapt from landing to landing, and by the time he reached the entryway to Ravenous, his heart was beating an insane rhythm against his ribs.
Viv stood beside the red velvet bench in the corner. She wore a knee-length floral skirt and a tank top that came close to matching the incredible violet hue of her eyes. A pair of silver hoop earrings dangled from her earlobes, the perfect accent to the funky jeweled-jumble of a pendant that hung just at the swell of her impressive tits.
She was simply breathtaking. Air froze in his lungs. A gasp leapt from between his lips. The noise echoed around the foyer like a cannon blast.
Viv looked up. When her gaze met his, the expression on her face
Although she phrased her sentence like a question, it was clearly an order. A friendly order but an order nonetheless. “Yeah, I probably should eat something first.” But she wasn’t in the mood for food anymore, not with the swarm of locusts making a meal of her stomach lining.
Just what the hell was she gonna do about Brock?
She and Anne settled back down at the table and Anne placed a single-serve brown Starbucks bag in front of Viv. “Dig in, sweetie, and while we chow, I’ll give you a crash course in BDSM 101.”
* * * * *
Not even the comfortable confines of Restrained Fantasies did a damn thing to uncoil Brock’s foul mood.
He picked up his cell phone for the millionth time but immediately dropped it back to his desk. In his last voicemail, he’d told Viv he understood her reaction and that he’d give her time to think. That had been two days ago.
Two!
He’d go after her if he had any fucking idea where to actually go. She wasn’t at home. A well-timed visit and chat with the maid had revealed that. And it wasn’t as if he could ask his brother. He could only imagine how that conversation would go.
Where the hell was she? If she didn’t call back by the end of the day, he would start calling hospitals and morgues. Frustration and fear tightened the chains around his chest. Please, god, just let her be safe.
“Knock, knock, boss.”
The sultry sound of a female voice snapped Brock from his panicking. Raven Malek, his full-figured, raven-haired bartender, stood just outside his open office door. Purple streaks contrasted against her messy, multilayered, blacker-than-black hair. Tattoos ran the length of her arms, crisscrossed over her shoulders and finished off by wrapping delicately around her neck. She was striking, but not in a pretty way. She was hot in a very unique, very Raven kind of way.
“Sorry to bother you,” she began, “but there’s someone downstairs asking to see you.”
“Christ.” The last thing he wanted to deal with was people, especially if it was foodservice salespeople inquiring about providing services for Ravenous. He didn’t do well with those people on his best days, and today was about as far removed from a good day as he could get. He’d be more likely to tell them where they could shove their product than engage in anything remotely productive.
“Tell whoever it is I said to fuck off. I’m busy.” The second the harsh words left his lips, he regretted them. He scrubbed a palm over his head and tried desperately to rein in his temper. “But please don’t use those words, Raven.”
“You know I never would, boss.” But Raven didn’t move.
“Is there something else?”
“Yes. It’s just…the person downstairs…well…I’m pretty sure she’s here for personal reasons.”
She? Personal? Hope lurched in his chest. “Who is she?”
“Vivi—”
“Thank fucking god.” With an agility he didn’t know he possessed until now, he bolted for the door, no doubt startling the hell out of his employee. But he really couldn’t summon the effort to give a rat’s ass.
Viv was here.
He bypassed the elevator and headed straight for the stairwell. He practically leapt from landing to landing, and by the time he reached the entryway to Ravenous, his heart was beating an insane rhythm against his ribs.
Viv stood beside the red velvet bench in the corner. She wore a knee-length floral skirt and a tank top that came close to matching the incredible violet hue of her eyes. A pair of silver hoop earrings dangled from her earlobes, the perfect accent to the funky jeweled-jumble of a pendant that hung just at the swell of her impressive tits.
She was simply breathtaking. Air froze in his lungs. A gasp leapt from between his lips. The noise echoed around the foyer like a cannon blast.
Viv looked up. When her gaze met his, the expression on her face
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