The King - S.R. Jones Page 0,20

a hacker, and the stupid fuck messed it up, didn’t get me the info, and took the payment. He’s paid me back since, with interest, and realized just how painful a broken hand is.

It won’t do to keep hiring such important jobs out to stoners and losers who still live in their parents’ basements. There are a couple people here who could do what I want with the right training, and Cassie can do it now, as she proved whilst at university.

I could ask Damen, a Greek acquaintance, cartel member, and expert hacker, to look into Popov for me, but I don’t trust him enough to do so. Andrius does, but I’m not Andrius. You might say I have trust issues. Your father killing your wife will do that to you.

Jonathon walks over to Cassie, bends and picks the pen up, and hands it to her.

She takes it, fumbles it and drops it again.

“What’s got into you, butterfingers?” Jonathon asks as he passes her the pen, and she finally manages to keep hold of it.

“Nothing, just tired,” she mumbles, not looking at me.

“Well, get a coffee and wake up,” Alistair says with a touch of impatience. “I thought you two would be great choices to sit and talk with Konstantin today. You’re new, Cassie, but you’ve done some stellar work, and you can give a newer perspective on working here. You’re our best games designer bar none, Jonathon, and because you’ve been here since the outset, you can provide a longer-term staff members point of view.”

Jonathon and Cassie walk to the front of the room. Jonathon holds his hand out to me, so we shake, and he nods. “Good to meet you, Mr. Silvanov.” He smiles at me, and I give him a brief smile back and a nod.

“We’ll talk in an hour or so,” I tell him. “Can you grab me files for anything you’re working on that you think will be of interest; although you might have to talk me through stuff. Come to the boardroom.”

“Of course,” he says.

Cassie comes to stand directly in front of me. She’s flushed, and her full hot pink lips are parted.

“Nice to meet you, Cassie.” I hold my hand out and relish the moment her small, clammy palm touches mine.

“Hello,” she says in that breathy, husky voice of hers. Fuck me, this is like some sort of role play.

Neither of us are letting on we already know one another, and it’s making me harder than ever. An illicit game between the two of us.

“Why don’t you grab a coffee like Alistair suggested and wake yourself up properly,” I tell her. “I’ll send for you when I’m ready.”

She nods, and then she does it.

She lights the match and throws alcohol on the fire of my attraction to her.

“Yes, sir,” she whispers, and her cheeks flush a deep pink.

Yes, sir? Oh, it’s not the words, hot as they are; it’s the way she says it. The way she realizes what she’s said and flushes. Those words said to me mean something to her. No artifice, no playing, but a deep submissiveness I didn't remotely guess at. I saw the wildness, I saw the craving for adventure and more from life, but I didn’t see this. And I’m normally good at reading people. Cassie, though, she’s like an onion, you peel one layer away only for another to reveal itself.

Fuck me, I’m screwed. So is she because she’s made me hungry?

Jonathon mouths sir at her with raised eyebrows, and she gives a tiny shrug of her shoulders, her face still flushed. Christ, I love her calling me that. None of my staff call me it, and in the office, I want her to call me Konstantin, but that word… I need to hear it from her lips again. Only, next time, she’ll be on her knees for me, hands tied behind her back in a pretty bow.

Maybe I’ll make her call me sir in my office at home, before I bend her over my desk and take her hard from behind, using her ponytail for leverage all while she’s hacking into Popov’s information for me. How poetic would that be? I’ll fuck her, while she helps me fuck Popov.

I almost laugh out loud at the idea but keep it in check. How did I think I could ever keep things platonic between us while I use her to hack for me? Why not use her twice? As my hacker, and as my fuck toy? I’ll

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