Page 13 of Voyeur
They both did, seeing as how neither of them had any other choices.
Carter must’ve grabbed her the very second she walked in, for she still wore her jacket, zipped up to her collarbone. Her gaze was a bit wilder than it had been on her first night, and my body warmed up when I pictured that expression glazed over in carnal bliss.
I gestured for Carter to wait near the door, to block her from exiting, slow to sit in the same chair I always did. Meeting her eyes, I took a slow sip of whiskey, baring my teeth at her as I swallowed it.
“I’ve missed you, Zoey,” I murmured, my voice a low rumbling in my chest. Whether or not she believed me was her prerogative, but I did. I missed her almost an unreasonable amount, something I’d never done to any of the other women here.
She was different, and she called out to me like no one else did, a primal urge to take her as mine.
Those eyes, such a clear, beautiful light blue, studied me. “I doubt that,” she spoke after a moment of silence, her arms crossed over her chest, her hip cocked with an attitude.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“I ain’t calling you a truther,” she retorted, drawing her gaze to Carter, who seemed to be ready to either tackle her to the couch and fuck her brains out or throw her out of the room entirely.
Carter wasn’t as smitten with her as I was, but that was fine. He didn’t need to be.
I let myself smirk at her response, setting my glass down on the armrest of the chair before getting up. My steps toward her were slow and measured, and I watched as she swallowed. What went through her head as she stood there, defiant towards me? What thoughts raced through her head as I moved so close to her she could feel the heat radiating off me through my suit?
My head craned down to look at her, and I said, “Take off your jacket.” She wore these obnoxiously pink sneakers; I think I’d go blind if I stared at them too long.
Zoey was bold as she whispered, “No. And I have to go let Autumn know I’m here—”
“I’ll handle her,” I said. I’d handle everything if she’d let me. I had the feeling she wouldn’t, though. This one… she’d give me trouble, I could sense it, see it in her eyes. She wanted to be put in her place, and I was more than inclined to do so. “Now, take it off.”
Her gaze narrowed, and she shook her head once, wordlessly daring me to follow up.
I stalked behind her, and before she could flip to face me, I grabbed the back of her neck, my fingers curling around her throat hard. Not hard enough to bruise or hurt, but firm enough for Zoey to know I meant business. I leaned my head down, resting my cheek against the side of her head, my mouth dangerously close to her ear as I hissed, “Take it off.” The words were growled into her ear, and I heard her breathing hitch.
The arms she had folded across her chest dropped, and she was unhurried in reaching for the zipper and dragging it down, exposing the thin shirt underneath. She took her time while I continued to hold onto the back of her neck.
Such a small neck. It would be so easy to snap it, but then where would that leave us? No, whatever was between Zoey and I would not end quite like that.
The jacket fell to the ground, pooling near my shoes. “Good,” I said, releasing my hold on her neck as I moved to stand before her, less than a foot between us. “Now your shirt.”
“Fuck off,” she muttered. “You don’t get to control me. This isn’t a private show—” She stopped when I lifted a hand, cupping her jaw and forcibly stopping her from saying anything else that might enrage me. Zoey had a habit of knowing just what to say to rile me up. Not quite a talent she should be proud of.
“When you’re with me, I do get to control you,” I told her, my fingers digging hard into her cheeks. She was not afraid, even with the show of aggression. “You will learn, Zoey Marbella.”
Her gaze widened. I bet Oh, shit summed up what she was thinking now.
“I do have to wonder,” I spoke, stepping closer and pressing the bridge of my nose upon her forehead. Such a short girl, so young and innocent. Inside her sat a beast waiting to emerge, and I couldn’t wait to unlock its cage and set it free. “What made you leave Hillcrest?”
Zoey’s cheeks were white where my fingers dug in; she hardly breathed as I held onto her. “I saw something that made me sick” was her answer.
“And what, Zoey, was that?”
“My boyfriend fucking my sister,” she whispered, pain flashing across her face.
I released her, tilting my head as I stepped back. “Interesting,” I muttered, sitting down in my leather chair and downing the last bits of what was in the glass. Interesting wasn’t the word I’d use, but it would work well enough. “Now, your shirt.”
She gave me a frown, hesitating.
“You should know that I’m in the process of procuring this little establishment. Soon enough the Dollhouse will be mine, and Autumn will be my employee. Therefore, you and every other girl who works here will be mine as well.”
Zoey was probably wondering why, but she said nothing as she reached for the bottom hem of her shirt, lifting it up and over her head, her pink hair swaying with the movement. Once the shirt was off, I saw she wore a bathing suit top over her tits. Definitely not the black bra she wore on her first day. With what she wore now, I could see the curve of her breasts unimpeded.
“Dare I ask why?” she questioned, dropping her shirt onto her jacket and placing a hand on her hip as she studied me.
