Forbidden Sensations: A Dark Romance by Savannah Rose (e book reader pc TXT) 📕

some sort of rare ass leukemia thing a few years ago. I don't know what kind, I wasn't paying attention. She also said she knew you were a bastard, and is willing to let what happened slide. Give you another chance, so to speak.”

I spun around, and yes his grin was self-satisfied, and it didn't change a lick when I went off on his latest bit of information.

“Are you fucking with me, Martin? Shanna Ryan is giving me another chance? Is she high? I don't need her god damn condescension. For the love of fuck. I made up my mind, Drixoll can kiss my ever loving ass, and no means no, Martin. Jesus Christ.”

My head ached. Not only had I not slept, I hadn't eaten. There was a bowl of fruit in my penthouse, but it was all wax. A gift from my mother which I totally hated and kept forgetting to throw away. The only thing I did have was a granola bar, that I slid underneath the bathroom door for Sofia to hopefully choke on.

Martin just continued to smirk.

“Someone's cranky,” he said. “But there's money to be made, Maddox. Lots of money. Serious money. Big pharma equals big bucks. I'm surprised I have to tell you that.”

“You don't have to tell me shit. I've got it all, Stiller. I don't need Drixoll's bullshit. There are some lines that aren't going to be crossed, and I'm surprised I have to tell you that. You want to go in the medicinal industries, you go right the fuck ahead. Go to New Zealand, open an empire there. They're the only other country on the planet that advertises pills to their population, so aloha.”

Martin nodded, pulled out his phone. “Would next Tuesday work for you? Despite your 'catch and release' allegory,” he shook his head, tsk, tsking me. “Drixoll's still keeping an open mind.”

I slumped into my chair, ready to take Martin's phone and stuff it in his ass. To say he was getting under my skin would be the understatement of all understatements. Friend or no friend, business partner or not, if he kept pushing my buttons, he was going to regret it. Come to think of it, there was no reason not to make him regret it now.

I pushed Phyllis' button.

“Good morning, Mister Petersen,” she sang.

“Phyllis, how does my Tuesday look?”

“Um, well… you've got a ten o'clock with–”

“Cancel it. As a matter of fact, cancel everything.” I looked Martin straight in the eye. “In fact, clear my schedule for the next two weeks.”

That smug expression finally fell off my partner's face.

“Mister Petersen, if I may? There are a few appointments that won't–”

I didn’t let her finish.

“Just do it, Phyllis,” I snapped and hung up on her. I clasped my hands together and waited for Martin to blow a gasket.

Which he didn't do. He just looked at me.

“Do you want a sandwich or something?” he asked. “You really shouldn't make any decisions, especially bad decisions, on an empty stomach.”

She was upstairs. Upstairs, eating a granola bar. There was water in the sink should she get thirsty. And I had an incision on my cheek thanks to her escape attempts.

As I told her, I could easily call the authorities, have her taken away. But what was the fun in that?

“I want you to leave, Martin.”

“Dude. What in the fuck is going on with you?”

“You're always saying I should take a vacation, aren't you? I'm going to do just that. Haven't had one in… Well, I don't really know how long and that's just sad, isn’t it?”

“What the hell, Maddox?! You can't take a vacation now. What about Drixoll? What about–”

“I'll send you a post card.”

Martin shot up from the chair, almost spilling his coffee.

Coffee.

God, I needed coffee.

“You've gone off the deep end, man. I knew it was coming for a while, but now? Now? You've really lost your shit.”

Maybe Drixoll has a cure for that, I thought. But nobody had a cure for what ailed me. What ailed me was padding around my bathroom, hands tied, trying to figure out ways to either get out, or crack me across the head again.

I shifted in my chair. The thought of her was making my crotch warm. The thought of her ulterior motives, her hellfire stare and the way she wanted me dead made me glad I was sitting behind my desk. I didn't need Martin's comments about my loins.

“I trust you'll hold down the fort. Partner.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Martin shut the door behind him. Loudly. I don’t know why. I already knew he was pissed off, so slamming the door had no impact at all.

I took a deep breath. Centered myself. Or tried to. I wanted to jerk off right here, right now. But I had rules. I had to have self-imposed rules.

No masturbating at my desk in the office. That was one rule.

Actually, it was the only rule.

I counted to ten, inhaling and exhaling at each beat, then I pushed Phyllis' button again. That was enough time for Martin's ears to have cleared the area. He wasn’t exactly the one to snoop on a conversation. But, truth be told, after the interaction we just had, I wouldn’t blame him if he did.

“Yes, Mister Petersen?”

“Are you alone, Phyllis?”

“Yes, sir.”

“First things first, Phyllis. What's the name of our security company?”

She paused. “Jericho Armored.”

“Great. Tell them we're done. Contract's scrubbed. They have failed in my expectations, shouldn't be a problem. If there is, send it to legal. All their videos, their surveillance footage? Surrendered and delivered to my office, this office, by the close of business today.”

“Yes, sir.”

If I was capable of loving someone, I could love Phyllis. She never argued with me. She did what she was told, always in a timely fashion. And she did it with no questions asked.

“Next. Sofia. Is that familiar?”

“Do you want me to come in to your office, sir? Take notes?”

“Is it familiar, Phyllis?”

I heard her tapping