Hard Bastard(199)

“Why?” he said, laughing. “That was too much fun.”

“Whatever,” I muttered. “Get out of here. We can’t risk that again.”

“You sure?” he said softly, coming toward the bed. I could see his hard cock through his loose gym shorts.

“I’m sure.”

He gave me a long look and laughed again. “Your loss, princess.”

“Whatever,” I mumbled as he turned and left my room.

As soon as he was gone, I let out a deep breath. I was so frustrated, especially with the built-up tension. I slowly slipped my hand beneath my panties and thought about the day before, about Cole’s muscles and thick cock.

I got myself off, dreaming of my husband, my stepbrother, my biggest problem.



I hadn’t been to Dad’s office, not since Cindy’s company had bought his. It was a huge downtown thing, a sprawling glass enclosure with lots of natural lighting, art installations, and an open office setting.

It was everything the modern tech company was supposed to be and more. People walked around in casual clothing, barely looking older than I was, and everyone seemed thrilled to be there. I saw guys and girls sitting on beanbag chairs in conference rooms, eating free food in a huge cafeteria, even working out in the gym. As I wandered around, nobody bothered me, either because I looked like I fit in or because people knew that I was Cindy’s stepdaughter.

I showed up at the office an hour early and simply looked around. It was unbelievable that anyone could work in a place like that, but I was watching people do it, and happily. It was what contemporary work was supposed to be, the total opposite of the drab office setting. There were colors and lights and lightness, and people didn’t seem so beaten down, so tired of life like they did in other offices.

As I stood in front of an enormous painting of children playing baseball, I heard heels clacking on the marble floor, coming toward me. As far as I could tell, most women wore flats and casual clothes, and so I was a little surprised to hear heels. I looked up and that was when I saw her.

Madison was walking toward me. I knew she would scoop me up eventually and take me to Cindy, but still. I had to take deep, calm breaths to keep from screaming at the horrible bitch.

She was exactly how I remembered her: prim, uptight, and serious. Her hair was pulled back into a tight, neat bun, and she wore stylish and expensive clothes. She smiled but without warmth, without joy. I wondered how she fit in with everyone else and realized that she probably didn’t.

“Alexa,” she said, stopping in front of me. “I’m Madison, Cindy’s assistant.”

“I know,” I said. “I remember you from the benefit.”

She looked at me for a second. “Yes, I saw you there. That’s right.”

We shook hands, though I didn’t want to touch her one bit. I wanted to throw her through a window, actually, and I realized that I needed to reign myself in. It wasn’t the time to make a move, not just yet.

I had a plan. It relied on surprise and intimidation, but I thought I could make it work.

“Come this way,” she said. “I’ll take you to Cindy’s office.”

We walked down the hall together then, and Madison gave me a quick little tour of everything we passed. She was quick and efficient, if not a little curt, and I had to admit that I admired that a little bit. So many women worked to act like men in the workplace, but Madison simply seemed like she was acting like herself. She wasn’t worried about coming off as a bitch or something like that. Cindy was probably the same way.

We got into the elevator and she hit the button for the sixth floor. “Cindy’s office is actually just off the elevator,” she said as we sped upward.

“That’s perfect,” I said, turning toward her. It was time to make my move, and I knew it. “Because I have something I want to say.”

She raised and eyebrow and smiled. “Oh? What’s that?”

“I know it’s you, Madison. The pictures, the blackmail.” I paused, letting that sink in. “I know it’s you.”

Her face slowly fell. It went from passive and amused to surprised in half a second flat. “W-what are you talking about?” she stammered.

“We found your source, the waitress. She told us it’s you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I glanced at the elevator’s display. We were half a floor away.

“Meet me in the parking garage at three. Second level, B row.”

“What?” she said, completely off guard. I could tell she was shaken.

“Meet me there or your job is finished.”

The elevator reached the floor with a ding and the doors opened up.