I walk around the back of my desk to grab some tissues to clean up my dick and by the time I turn around, she’s sitting in the pile of dollar bills with her back to the wooden desk, head thrown back, plump lips parted and still panting. Her short, blonde hair is damp around the front of her rosy face, the evidence of how much she enjoyed our romp that never should’ve happened.
Since it’s too late to do anything about my stupid decision, it’s time I finally get some answers out of her before I throw her ass off my boat.
Well, once we get back to the dock. I’m not a completely ruthless asshole.
After zipping up my pants, I drag my rolling chair around to park it in front of where she’s sitting. Grabbing my lighter and pack of Marlboros from the top of the desk, I drop down into the seat with my legs spread wide so I can still see her face.
“So, how long have you been stealing from me? Since day one?” I ask as I stick the smoke in my mouth and light it up.
“Could I…could I maybe put some clothes on first?” she asks, reaching for her discarded and ripped dress on the floor. My boot gets there first. I stomp on the black fabric and slide it over to my chair so I can snatch it up in my fist to keep it from her.
“No clothes until you answer all of my fucking questions,” I inform her. Besides, it’s no hardship to talk to her with her tits out. Or they were visible before she lets out a heavy sigh and pulls her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, blocking all but a peek of her cunt from view. “How long have you been skimming cash from my drinks and stealing from my customers, Naomi?” I ask again.
“Since…I started working on the boat,” she tells me without even a hint of remorse on her face or in her voice.
“Why?”
“Because…because I had to.”
“Try again,” I say.
Her big, blue eyes stare up at me pleadingly. “I swear I didn’t want to, Malcolm. But I didn’t have a choice!”
“Bullshit. There’s always a choice,” I counter, unaffected by her acting like the innocent victim. That shit doesn’t fly when she’s sitting naked on the floor of my office after I was inside of her, the smell of our combined bodily fluids still lingering in the air so thick I can almost taste the sex on my tongue.
“There wasn’t a choice in my case,” she mutters while tightening her arms around her knees.
“Come on, honey. Just spit it out already! Now you’re just wasting my time, which is only going to piss me off even more,” I say, getting annoyed now thanks to the way my dick overtakes my common sense where this girl is concerned. That shit has never happened to me before. There have been plenty of women I wanted to fuck but didn’t because I knew they were either not worth the hassle, off-limits, or trouble waiting to happen.
Naomi shakes her head in refusal. “I can’t tell you.”
“Yes, you can, and you will. All you have to do is open your pretty little mouth, you know, like you did to convince Fiasco to give you this job. Just use your words now instead of your gag reflex.”
“No, really. I can’t,” she replies.
I reach above her head to flick the end of my smoke into the ashtray, crowding her when I say, “Then you’re not leaving this room or getting clothes again until you change your mind.”
Her eyes widen as they lock with mine, like she’s trying to judge my sincerity. I’m as serious as a fucking heart attack. We’re both gonna sit right here until she talks.
When her shoulders sag and her gaze drops, I know she’s realized the truth for herself, that I’m not going to budge and that she’s screwed. I’ve got her right where I want her, leaving her no choice. Of course she can try to lie her way out of this, but I don’t think she’s stupid enough to try and bullshit me again.
“You’re going to kill me when you find out,” she says simply, not as though she’s being facetious, but like she actually believes I’m not only a murderer but that I would be willing to kill a woman I just fucked. Sure, anything is possible, but I doubt there’s anything she can say to make me homicidal right now with my cock well sated.
“Sooner or later I’m going to find out, so you may as well tell me before I torture it out of you,” I tell her.
The rosy glow on her face instantly whitens after my threat, likely imagining the worst. If she could see inside my head, she would know that I’m picturing torturing her by fucking her cunt with my tongue and not letting her come until she’s ready to talk.
Clearing her throat, she says, “Do you…do you know Harold Cox?”
“Harry Cox? Hell yeah, I know that fat, aptly named bastard. Why? Wait. Are you fucking him?” I ask in disbelief.
“Ew, god no,” she answers with a shiver that I believe is genuine. “I…borrowed something from him…”
“You stole from him.”
“Yes, fine. I stole something; and when he found out, he wasn’t happy,” she admits.
“I’m familiar with the concept,” I mutter. “How much was this…something worth?”
“Twenty-thousand. But with interest I now owe him, twenty-five thousand or a little more.”
I let loose a whistle because that’s a big chunk of cash, one he would probably require her to pay back with twenty-five percent interest or more, constantly growing and growing.
“So you were stealing from me to pay him back?” I ask.
“Sort of.”
“Explain,” I snap at her.
“I guess he doesn’t like you or the MC, maybe both,” Naomi tells me with a shrug of her narrow shoulders.
Taking one last drag from my cigarette, I blow the smoke out of my nose and then lean forward to put it out in the ashtray on the desk before I respond. “Me. Harry doesn’t like me.”
“Oh,” she mutters. “Well, anyway, I told him I didn’t have his money, so he gave me two options…”
“And they were?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she says, “The first was that he would sell me to the highest bidder among all his rich friends to make back the twenty thousand I took.”
“Sell you?” I repeat. “Like hand you over to be someone’s sex slave?”
“Yep,” she answers. “Or rent me out to them.” When she looks back up at me, I can see the fear of that happening to her in her blue eyes and know that she’s telling the truth.
“And the second option?” I ask.
“He said I could steal the money from you. He told me that you would be…”
“Be what?” I prod when she pauses.
Naomi rests her chin on top of her knees and holds my gaze. “An easy target.”
“Easy?” I scoff. “He fucking said that I would be an easy target?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. That fucker is even dumber than I thought,” I say while shaking my head at his fucking audacity.
“Whether he’s stupid or not doesn’t matter. I’m screwed; because if you don’t kill me, he’s probably going to sell me.”
“I’m not going to kill you,” I assure her. “And I knew from day one that you didn’t belong here. All you had to do to get Fiasco to hire you was blow him?”