BF'S DAD: PLAYING WITH FIRE

CHLOE:

"It's late, and I have a meeting early tomorrow morning. We have to leave, Arthur."

Arthur’s phone buzzes aggressively in his pocket before he can speak. He pulls it out, his brows furrowing.

“Excuse me, I have to take this. I have stock updates from London." He gives us an apologetic smile. "Marcus, I’m sorry I can't escort you two out to the lot."

"It's fine," Marcus says, forcing a smile to his lips. "See you, old friend."

I keep my mouth shut, swallowing the rage building in my throat. I play the good girl, walking silently beside Marcus as we make our way through the corridors until we are out in the parking lot.

The second the glass doors shut behind us, I explode.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I turn to face him, my features contorted with fury. "You just ruined the biggest opportunity of my life! Arthur Pendleton read my thesis. He was offering me a direct position at Rosé Couture!"

He keeps walking as I yell, his broad shoulders squared.

"Get in the vehicle, Chloe."

"No!" I yell, halting instantly. "You don't get to dictate my career. You aren't my father, Mr. Vance. You can't just drag me away. I am old enough to make my own decisions.”

He stops dead in his tracks. Then he turns around slowly, his towering frame completely eclipsing the lot's lights, casting a massive shadow over me.

"Contrary to what your childish mind thinks, your mother isn't trying to trap you in her logistics company.” His baritone is low, dangerous. "She knows you want fashion. She personally put a word out to everyone in the fashion and arts industry—including Arthur. She asked him to find a place for you."

My jaw drops, my anger faltering for a split second. "My... my mom did that?"

"Yes," he says, stepping closer. "So if Arthur Pendleton wants to give you an interview, he can do it formally at nine in the morning in a corporate boardroom. Not by breathing down your neck in a dark wine cellar at midnight. I am looking out for you. You don't need to be anywhere near men like Arthur. We've been best friends since college, and I know exactly how he ruins pretty little girls like you."

My chest heaves at his words, and I snap without a single thought.

"I never asked you to look out for me, Mr. Vance. If you wanted to help me, then you would have offered me revenge sex. That’s all I want!”

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. Marcus’s eyes darken to near-black.

"Get out of your head, Chloe. You are a fucking child to me."

My pride falters, but desperation takes over. I lean in, reaching down toward his pants. He grabs my wrist the exact second my hand lightly grazes his crotch, trapping my fingers.

"Does a child make your dick go hard?" I whisper.

He pushes my hand away with brutal efficiency.

"My dick is hard because you are standing less than an inch away from me with your cleavage falling out of that dress. I am a man in full health. I naturally react to a naked female body in my space. It does not mean you are fuckable to me."

The humiliation makes my face burn, a hot tear of frustration pricking my eye.

"Fuck you," I choke out.

He doesn’t speak. I groan in frustration, turning around and marching toward the main road. I don't care that it is the middle of the night or that I am wearing heels. I am going to walk until I can flag down a cab.

"Chloe! Get back in the car!" Marcus calls out behind me.

I ignore him, picking up my pace, my heels clicking furiously against the ground. 

My legs wobble, but I do not stop.

"Chloe! You are being delinquent!”

He breaks into a run behind me. In no time, I feel his massive arms grip my waist. He hoists me like I am a rag doll, swinging me effortlessly over his shoulder.

"Mr. Vance, put me down!!" I shriek, my fists pounding uselessly against his broad back.

He doesn't say a single word. He marches back to the SUV, which already has its door open, and shoves me mercilessly onto the leather seat. Before I can scramble to the opposite door, he climbs into the back seat right on top of me, trapping me beneath his heavy frame.

"Stop fighting me," he growls, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand.

I thrash violently beneath him, bucking my hips to dislodge his weight.

“Enough!” he yells.

Bringing his hand down, he slaps my butt without warning.

The sharp sting sends a violent jolt straight to my core. It should hurt, it should make me angrier, but my twisted, perverted body reacts instantly with a hard twitch between my legs.

Marcus freezes. His palm is still resting flat against my exposed bum, and through the thin fabric of my thong, he feels the undeniable, soaking dampness of my underwear.

He yanks his hand back as if he has been burned, his eyes widening in shock.

"What the fuck?" he breathes, staring down at his hand, then up at my face.

I gasp for air, my heart hammering against my ribs. But then I recognize the look in his eyes—it is a complete loss of control.

"What, Mr. Vance?" I whisper, confidence blooming in my chest. "A woman can't get off to a man she is attracted to?"

His chest rises and falls, his gaze locking entirely onto my lips. I can see it getting to him.

"Can you blame me?" I smile, letting my eyes drift lazily over his shoulder as I play my final card. "Arthur is incredibly hot. Watching the way he looks at me... imagining what he could do to me in that design pavilion... it just drives me crazy."

Marcus’s jaw twitches so violently I hear his teeth click. The last shred of his discipline snaps.

Before I can even blink, his large hand shoots forward, wrapping his fingers tightly around my jawline. He squeezes, forcing my mouth slightly open as he yanks my face up. He pulls me so close our noses brush, his hot, ragged breath fanning across my lips.

"You are playing with fire, sweetheart," he rasps, his low tone vibrating directly against my teeth. "If a little boy like Chad can drive you this crazy... you don't want to find out what me or Arthur would do to you if we actually decided to break you.”