Page 120 of His Greatest Muse

My arm slips around her waist as she stiffens. “We really need to go. Maybe you can email it to me.”

That’s apparently the wrong thing to say because Cole’s eyes flash with something violent, making me push Sierra behind me. My brows climb my forehead, this fucker’s entire existence a complete thorn in my side.

“Oh, like you emailed me about being pregnant with this incompetent, wannabe fighter’s baby instead of telling me face to face? Why would you get yourself into this mess, Sierra? He’s nowhere near good enough for you.”

His words settle in my stomach like shards of glass. He’s so angry, sobitter, that I can almost smell his hatred in the air. Flat palms glide over my back, drawing my attention long enough for me to notice the several sets of eyes watching us with such curiosity it makes my skin crawl.

“You know what, big guy? I think taking this outside would be a great idea,” I growl, gesturing toward the exit.

I grab Sierra’s chin between my fingers and lift, making our gazes lock before I’m capturing her mouth in a claiming, demanding kiss. A shiver moves through her when she kisses me back just as hard. With a nip to her lips, I pull back and glide my thumb along the top of her cheekbone.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” she says before slipping away.

With Sierra gone, I turn my attention back to Cole. Hatred swirls in my blood, making it bubble in my veins. “Either you can walk yourself out of the building, or I can drag you out in front of all of these people. Pick.”

He stares back at me with a grin that has my stomach swirling.

“You’re quite demanding, Braden. Sierra didn’t strike me as the type to enjoy being bossed around, but maybe that’s what I was missing. Perhaps I was too nice.”

“Don’t talk about her. This is the only warning you’re going to get.”

* * *

Cole’s handsfind his hips, his fingers curling. He shakes his head furiously. “You’re not going to touch me, Braden.”

“I’m not?”

“Not unless you want me to press charges, you’re not.”

I can’t help it. A booming laugh scrapes up my throat, and my head falls back.

“Do you know what a hypocrite is, Mr. Big Shot?” I ask with a wicked grin. Cole blinks at me, unimpressed with my question. “See, if you were to press charges against me for whatever it is I’m going to do to you, then it would be completely plausible to expect Sierra to press charges against you for sexual harassment, don’t you think?”

He takes a brave step forward, fists shaking at his side. There’s no hiding the outrage burning in his eyes. I’ve just struck a chord deep inside of him, one that he didn’t want me knowing he had.

“I didn’t sexually harass her!” he roars, taking another step closer.

“You touched her without permission, you fucking scumbag! She’s never given you any reason to think you could lay a single finger on her. But you did it anyway. You took what you wanted because that’s what you thought you deserved, right?”

I don’t give him time to answer.

“Well, now I’m going to break every single bone in your hand so that you won’t forget what happens when you touch somebody like that without their permission. The next time you think of doing this again, you’ll feel the pain of your bones snapping and hear the tremble in your cries like it’s happening all over again. Because it will happen again. Mark my words, Cole Travis. Touch somebody else the way you did Sierra and I’ll come back here and fucking end you.”

I stalk toward him, watching with the same unwavering smile as he fumbles back a step, and another, and another until he collides with a brick wall.

“You gave her a promotion, so she owed it to you, right?” My voice is shaking, but I’m not sure if it’s from the outrage burning inside of me or the pain I feel thinking about him touching Sierra.

“She didn’t tell you no. So in your fucked-up mind, that meant yes, right?”

Against my better judgment, my arm shoots out in front of me, and my knuckles collide with the bricks beside his head. He gasps, eyes bulging while I suck a pained breath through my teeth.

Fuck. I can’t wiggle my fingers.

I’m towering over Cole as I tightly grip his right wrist with my non-aching hand and lift it beside his face, pinning it against the scuffed brick. The maneuver is a bit uncomfortable and leaves my entire side open and vulnerable if he decides to fight back, but I’m not about to try and test the extent of my hand injury. I definitely broke something.

“You’re not really going to do this,” Cole stammers, struggling a bit against the wall. I tighten my grip on his wrist until I know that he’ll have bruises the shape of my fingertips in the morning.

* * *

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