Power Switch (Power Play #3) - Kennedy L. Mitchell Page 0,68

though my tongue feels too thick and my mouth too dry.

“We need to talk.”

“Contact my secretary and get on my calendar,” I snap. Indignation surges at his hold cutting off the blood supply to the lower half of my arm, shooting a rush of confidence to my system. Gathering leverage, I step back, trying to yank my arm out of his grip. I wince as his fingers dig deeper, trying to keep his hold, but in the end I win, slipping out of his grasp.

Stumbling backward, I retreat two steps, putting me out of his reach.

“I know what you need.”

For the first time in this short confrontation, I snap my gaze to meet his. Dark eyes seem to absorb the bright sunlight pouring from the windows and overhead lights. I suppress a shudder at the malevolence lurking behind them. It's vast, unending darkness, like a blaring warning to run and never look back.

“I can give it to you,” he continues. “For a price.”

Hell no. No amount of money in the world would make me consider partnering with him.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” I rasp. Reaching up, I wrap a palm around my throat.

He dips his chin an inch, angling a knowing look my way.

“Step the fuck away from her.”

The wave of relief at the angry, gravelly voice weakens my knees. I shoot an arm out, palm smacking the wall to keep me upright.

“Benson.” Somehow the hate pours off him in larger waves as his gaze shifts over my shoulder. “How's your fiancée?” Shawn asks, an edge to his voice.

Trey moves fast, situating his body between me and Shawn.

“Not sure. How’s Rachel?”

I wince at the mention of his ex.

“Tied up at home, just how I like them.”

There’s a cruelty to Trey’s responding laugh. “Only way you can get them to stick around.”

“You can't protect her,” Shawn chides. At the laughter in his tone, I step around Trey, putting me at his side. Shawn's gaze slides to me with a smirk. “It’s hilarious that you think you ever could from me.”

With that, Shawn gives us a knowing malicious smile, then turns, marching down the hall and disappearing into a side room.

The fight drains from Trey's muscles where my hands grip his bicep. With a heavy breath, he hangs his head, eyes closed.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Fine,” I say with a shrug. “Are you?”

Brows raised, he angles that handsome face my way. I suck in a quick breath at the emotions swirling behind his honey brown eyes. The pull is undeniable. I give an inch, resting my head against his hard shoulder, then sigh, letting the simple connection help seep the stress from my strung-out mind.

“Am I okay? Doubting if I can take care of myself, Mess?”

“Never,” I say with fake shock. “The mention of Rachel…. I don't know. Just asking.”

Something passes over his features. “Yeah, that's not pleasant.” He chuckles. “But she doesn’t matter. You do.” He cups my face. “Only you.”

“Team Randi,” I say more to myself to hold my focus on the end objective.

His signature smirk pulls at his lips, showing off the boyish charm I've wholeheartedly fallen for. “Is there any other?”

In a quick move, he tugs me close, our lower bodies pressing together.

“Some people might say there are others,” I whisper, face tilted up toward his. I fight against sighing in the comfort and safety of his arms. A faint whiff of his unique expensive cologne wafts off his jacket. Losing the battle, I lean my nose closer, hoping for a stronger hit of the scent that drives me wild. My muscles quiver with need. Need for him. For his touch, for his lips and tongue sliding along my skin.

“Well, then, they're idiots.” Wait, what were we talking about? I feel like it was important. “It's your world, Mess. We're just revolving around it.”

“I think that's just you,” I say into his chest. A vibration tickles my lips at his chuckle.

Thick fingers press under my chin, tipping my face up.

“It is to anyone who matters,” he murmurs, his eyes searching my own. “I miss you, Mess.”

“I know,” I say around the growing lump in my throat. “I think I—”

“I thought you were going to get your coat.” The resentment in Sam’s clipped words is clear.

Panic seizes my thoughts and my muscles. The slight twitch of Trey's muscular arms around my waist tells me he's not thrilled about the interruption or Sam's tone. Quite frankly, neither am I.

“She was accosted in the hallway on her way.” If premeditated