Page 84 of Dare to Love Again

“What are you doing here, Carlos?”

“That’s Master Carlos to you, cunt,” he spat.

She flinched at the foul word, which only made his oily grin widen.

“What’s the matter, slut? Can’t handle the truth? What else do you call a cock-teasing submissive?”

When he moved toward her, Esme shot to her feet, stepping around her desk to keep it between them.

“I didn’t tease you. You came up and grabbed me. I never showed any interest.”

“Showing up on Edge Night having no intention of playing is teasing. Does Gerald know he’s got a frigid sub working for him?”

She stiffened, hearing him call her boss by his first name. Something was going on here beyond her rejection of him at the club.

“Step aside, please. I’m leaving.”

“You don’t give the orders here, bitch!” he snapped.

The look in his eyes scared her. They wavered and shone with a strange light. She needed to get out of there fast. Esme glanced at the door. To reach it, she’d have to get past him.

She inched around her desk to the left, hoping he would move as she did, and she could get to a place where she could make a run for it.

“Stop moving. You’re not going anywhere except onto that desk, flat on your back, while I fuck you.”

“You’re crazy if you think that’s going to happen. Get out of my way, or I’ll scream.”

“Go right ahead. No one else is here except Gerald who works for me.”

When Carlos lunged for her, she ran, shoving her chair in his path. This slowed him down but didn’t stop him. With a growl of rage, he picked it up and hurled it out of the way. The loud bang when it crashed against the wall couldn’t drown out Esme’s screams.

Winded from his explosion of rage, he glared at her across the length of her desk. Unfortunately, he was still on the side nearest to the door. His face looked harder, his eyes glowing bright, and anger, as well as his exertions, had stained his cheeks red. She identified the latter because he was sweating profusely.

“If you expect to walk out of here when I’m through with you, I suggest you obey me and start showing me some respect. Better yet, shut the fuck up.” Suddenly, a malevolent smile split his face. “Luckily, I have something to make that happen.”

He dropped the hard drive on her desk and picked up a black bag from the floor beside her credenza. She frowned. He didn’t have it when he came in, did he? But she didn’t wonder about how it got there any further, not when Carlos removed an array of implements from the bag and laid them on the desk as though setting up for a scene. First, he pulled out a bundle of rope, next was a gag, and finally a wicked-looking short-tailed whip.

He’d planned this, obviously. Intent on carrying out whatever he envisioned for her that night at the club. After being thwarted by her and Finn, she didn’t doubt the cruelty and pain factors would be exponentially worse now. When the cuffs came out of the bag, she didn’t wait any longer. He was bigger and stronger, and while she didn’t expect a different outcome, she had to try. She couldn’t merely remain passive while he bound, whipped, and raped her.

Once again, she bolted for the door, screaming for help. Carlos was better prepared for her this time. On her in a blink, his fingers sank into hair, and he jerked her head back viciously.

Esme cried out at the searing pain in her scalp. Her hands flew to his, nails digging into his skin as she tried to break his grip. Tears flooded her eyes when he dragged her to her desk and threw her onto it. Papers, pens, and her laptop went flying. She would have tumbled over the other side, and maybe it would have been better if she had, but he caught her arm and ankle and flipped her onto her back.

“What frightens you, cunt? Not my whip, surely. That’s what you like, isn’t it? I saw you leaving with Finnegan, all misty-eyed from his charm.” His face contorted into a frightening mask of contempt. “Do you think I’m a fool? He’s a whip master, too, which means you must crave the lash, as I suspected.”

“No, please, let me go.”

“What’s going on in there?”

Upon hearing Gerald’s muffled voice through the door, Esme felt a surge of hope. “Please, help me,” she cried.

“Go away, Gerald,” Carlos called.

Keys jangled, the knob turned, and the door swung inward. Despite her boss’ stricken expression, Esme had never been so happy to see anyone in her life.

“Butt out, Gerald. This isn’t your concern.”

“No, please,” she repeated, not stopping her struggles. “Don’t let him do this.”

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