CATCH (THE BILLIONAIRE’S RULES, BOOK

14)

KELLY FAVOR
Copyright © 2015 by Kelly Favor

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including
information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of
brief quotations in a book review.
 1

CATCH (THE BILLIONAIRE’S RULES, BOOK 14)

I can’t do this.
Lanie tried to breathe but her throat felt closed.
I can’t. I cant.
She’d been blindfolded. And the darkness was total, complete.
Even though she knew intellectually that the piece of cloth could easily be
untied or removed, her fear was mounting. Growing until it was something
closer to terror.
“Lanie,” Brayden said, his voice startlingly close.
“Yes?” she said, her voice tiny, squeaking with anxiety.
“Calm down,” he said. “You’re breathing very fast and we haven’t even
started yet.”
I can’t do this. This is too much.
But how to explain it to him? She felt humiliated at the prospect of telling
Brayden Forman that she was afraid of the dark.
What a silly, silly fear. And this wasn’t even like being locked in a dark
closet or something. She was merely blindfolded.
This would surely be the last straw and Brayden would realize that she
wasn’t worth the effort.
“Do I have to be blindfolded?” she said. Her hands clenched.
“Is it a problem?”
Yes. Yes. Yes, it’s a problem.
 “I’m just…I don’t understand what’s going on,” Lanie replied, and her voice
sounded far less panicked to her ears than she in fact felt.
Get this fucking thing off of me. I can’t see. Help me.
“Lanie, relax and sit back,” Brayden said. “No more questions.”
She felt movement and realized that he’d begun driving once again, and that
he expected her to actually sit there, in the dark, for however long he wanted her
to sit like that.
How dare you? She thought, even as she knew there was no way he could
suspect her phobia.
She tried to just relax. Lanie knew she was safe with Brayden, but no matter
how much she told herself that, all she could feel was the pounding in her chest,
the sweat on her forehead, the shaking inside, and the sudden certainty that she
couldn’t breathe.
Her hands reached up to touch the silky cloth of the blindfold.
“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice taking on a commanding tone that stopped
her from moving further.
“Brayden, I don’t feel well.”
“Just be patient,” he said.
“But—“
“Everything’s fine. You need to let go.”
But she couldn’t breathe. The darkness was total.
I’m all alone. All alone.
Please, no. Don’t leave me here.
Her hands went to the blindfold as if they had a mind of their own.
“Lanie, dammit.” His voice was unforgiving.
Only, she didn’t care, because her fear was far too powerful to resist, no
matter how much she wanted to make Brayden happy. Lanie ripped the blindfold
off, blinking, reassuring herself that she could in fact still see.
There was the road in front of her, and the headlights of cars driving past in
the other lane, the red break lights of the cars directly in front of them.
She turned and saw Brayden’s stern, disbelieving expression.
“I can’t do this,” she said. “I don’t feel well. I’m sorry.”
 He glanced at her and then back to the road ahead. His jaw twitched. “You
should not have done that.” His voice was flat.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
She shrugged, but the acidic tone of his voice made her stomach twist.
You should tell him the truth.
Lanie imagined herself telling Brayden that she was scared of the dark, but
the words wouldn’t come. He wouldn’t understand. He wasn’t weak, he wasn’t
frightened of things.
He would laugh, tell her she was being silly and he would see it as weakness.
It was weakness.
Lanie hated that she was so scared of so much in this world. But telling
Brayden Forman about her childhood fears was not something she could bring
herself to do.
Not now. Maybe not ever.
When Lanie finally spoke, her tone was one of sharp frustration. “I told you I
don’t feel well. Now please, can we drop it? I don’t have to be blindfolded, do I?
Because if I need to be blindfolded to continue this—whatever this is—then you
should just turn the car around now and take me home.”
Brayden’s lips twisted as if to smirk, but in the end he just nodded. “You’ve
made yourself quite clear.”
He shifted the car into a lower gear as the traffic slowed, but then the right
lane began moving more quickly and Brayden jerked the steering wheel, moving
into that lane. He shifted gears and hit the gas, and then they were driving fast.
Their car moved through the traffic, easily maneuvering in and out, between
the other cars, with Brayden shifting gears, turning the wheel expertly, and then
they hit the open road and he dropped into the next gear, letting the engine out.
They picked up even more speed.
Lanie’s heart was racing, but she wasn’t afraid of this. In fact, she sort of was
enjoying it. Yes, they were going fast—certainly well above the speed limit—but
she could see everything that was happening.
And Brayden was so totally in control of it all, like his body was one with
the car, just an extension of it. He moved in concert with what he needed the
vehicle to do, coaxing the exact responses from it that he needed.
For some reason, watching Brayden drive was getting her wet.
She’d begun forgetting about the frightening darkness, the blindfold, and
instead she was appreciating the sensations of the car, the road, and this sexy
man next to her in his gorgeous suit and his glittering Rolex.
They weren’t speaking, whether by design or by mutual agreement.
She didn’t feel the need to even speak.
Finally, they pulled up to the curb near a group of buildings that seemed
empty. But there were some other fancy cars parked here and there along the
road.
Other than that, the street was remarkably empty. It seemed as though they
were in an industrial area that was quiet or closed this time of night.
“Where are we?” she asked.
Brayden turned towards her. “I told you, no questions. If you continue to
ignore my directions, then I really will turn the car around and take you home.
I’m starting to think maybe that’s what you’d like me to do.”
She shook her head. “No.” She licked her lips. “I’m just a little nervous,
Brayden.”
He gave her the ghost of a smile. “I’ll take care of you.”
“Okay.” She nodded.
And then he was getting out of the car, walking around and opening her door
like a gentleman.
But where were they?
She had no idea.
It was only when she stepped out of the car that Lanie realized she could
hear music dimply thumping from nearby. It was difficult to tell where the music
was originating from, but obviously this was some sort of exclusive dance club.
She smiled, a little relieved. She could dance, especially if she had a drink or
two. She tugged at her skirt, trying to relieve the feeling that she was wearing
practically nothing.
Of course, that’s what Brayden had told her to wear.
 As little as possible.
The wind blew and she felt goose bumps spring up all over her body.
Brayden’s hand touched her lower back and Lanie shivered yet again from
his touch. “Come,” he said. And then he escorted her around the corner, and now
there was an open door where the sound filtered out.
Standing in front of the open door, were two large men wearing dark suits
and earpieces. They nodded at Brayden in recognition.
“Evening, gentlemen,” Brayden said, quickly handing each of them a folded
hundred dollar bill.
“Evening, Sir,” one of them said.
Neither of them acknowledged her presence in the least.
As they walked inside the doorway, they entered a dim hallway. There was a
smell, too, she decided. It smelled of old wood, leather, polish.
Like some sort of old library or fancy room that people didn’t often use.
Down the dark hallway, a strobe light pulsed rhythmically, and the music
grew louder.
Brayden glanced at her. “How are you feeling?” he asked, sounding a little
concerned.
“Okay,” she said. “Better.”
“Good.”
They continued walking.
Seconds later, Lanie saw something she wasn’t prepared for. A man in a
dapper suit was leading a naked woman around by a leash. She was on all fours,
her toned, bare ass up in the air as she crawled at his feet like a dog. She was
wearing a collar and a black mask over her head.
They walked away and rounded another turn in the hallway, the strobe light
flickering dreamlike, turning their gait into something herky-jerky, like a film
that was skipping.
Lanie turned to Brayden. “What the hell is this place?” she said, her voice
strangled.
His eyes were dark and his voice was calm, but firm. “Trust me.”
“This is some kind of sick…fetish house.”
 Brayden’s lips curled into a bemused grin. “Come.” He placed his hand on
her lower back once more and ushered her onward.
She didn’t know what kept her walking forward.
This was too strange. This wasn’t the kind of place she should be on a first
date.
If that’s what this even was.
Did he expect her to have sex with random strangers here? Was this a
brothel? Something even more perverse?
Lanie shook her head imperceptibly as she walked past a room with an open
door, and inside, she glimpsed an older, heavyset, nude man with a droopy
mustache having his genitals whipped by a leather clad woman holding a belt
with fringes on it.
The man had a huge erection as she whipped her fringy implement across his
penis.
Lanie turned away and gripped Brayden’s arm.
Was he going to ask her to do something like that to his dick? She wouldn’t.
She couldn’t. No.
That was beyond the pale.
Finally, they stopped at a door with the number seven on it, and Brayden
pulled out a silver skeleton key and opened the door.
Lanie was praying that there wouldn’t be anyone else in the room. Whatever
else this might be, she didn’t want to see anyone else.
But the room was empty, thankfully.
Brayden hit the light switch, and a swirling overhead light spun different
colors across the room in a slow arc.
The room was upholstered in silk, all sashes and flowing curtains, only there
were no discernable windows. Along the wall, there was a couch, red, plush. A
chain hung down from the ceiling, and also a swing near the back wall.
There was something that looked like a large treasure chest against the left
wall.
And there were mirrors placed judiciously around the room, making the
room appear larger than it truly was.
 “I don’t like it here,” she said.
Brayden smiled as he closed the door and locked it behind them. “You
haven’t had a chance yet to appreciate it.”
“Why did you bring me? This is a sex club. Right?” She challenged him to
answer, folding her arms.
“I told you not to ask questions,” Brayden said, shaking his head, as if
mystified that she would continue trying to understand where they were. He
walked to a small round table upon which a chilled bottle of champagne sat,
along with two long, fragile glasses. “Have a drink,” he said, pulling out the
bottle and pouring it to fill each glass.
Then he put the bottle back into the bucket of ice and carried the glasses over
to her.
The light swirled, but she was growing more accustomed to it now.
Dimly, she could hear the music from outside the room, the pounding bass.
“Is there a dance floor nearby? Where’s the music coming from?” she asked.
“Oops,” she smiled, giggling a little. “I wasn’t supposed to ask questions. I
forgot.”
“Drink,” Brayden said, stifling a grin. He downed half of his champagne in
one gulp.
Lanie sipped at the bubbly liquid and found it to be quite smooth. She was
grateful for the taste and feel as it slid down her dry throat. She drank quickly.
Brayden nodded his approval. “I’ll get you another glass,” he said, walking
back to the table and pouring.
She admired his shoulders, the way his cheek looked in profile, the strength
of his posture. He was so in control of himself, so in command of the situation.
Of her.
It relaxed her a little to know that whatever this place was, Brayden was
taking care of things and seemed to know what he was doing.
But what did he have planned?
What had he meant when he said they were entering “the next phase” of their
relationship?
She wanted to ask him, but knew he wouldn’t approve.
 Brayden came back and handed her the glass. Their fingertips brushed and
she felt that familiar thrill.
He was so close, standing in front of her, his handsome face exquisite, his
eyes mysterious and somehow much more adult and formidable than she’d seen
him look previously.
Is this who Brayden Forman really is--this serious man in his suit, with his
shiny Rolex and his dark eyes?
The other guy is an act, a character he puts on for show. The funny laid back
guy who runs around the Hookup office acting like a frat boy.
But this—this is the real Brayden, the man beneath the actor. And he’s hot,
too. Maybe even hotter because he’s so intense and serious.
But what does he want from me?
“This is good champagne. At least, I think it is,” she said, realizing she
wasn’t exactly a connoisseur.
Brayden smiled. “It’s from my personal collection. Glad you like it.” He
walked to the table and put his glass down. When he turned towards her once
more, his eyes were hungry. “Now we have to get down to business, Lanie.” He
unbuttoned his blazer and then slowly removed it, draping it over the back of a
tall chair.
“Business?” she said. “I’m confused.”
“Clearly,” Brayden smirked, beginning now to roll up his sleeves. His
movements were calculated and precise. His muscular forearms bulged as he
continued to roll up his shirtsleeves, almost to his elbows. “So let me make sense
of things for you, Lanie.”
“That would be nice.”
“I’m not going to fuck you. Ever.”
She stared at him, her mouth hanging open. She swallowed, shut her mouth
and then took a big gulp of her champagne. “I didn’t expect you to…to do that,”
she said, finally.
“You’re a virgin,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “And although I
admit, it’s highly appealing to imagine myself deflowering you, it wouldn’t be
right. I’m not the kind of man you should be with your first time.”
 “Like I said—“
“Shhh…” His eyes went flat. He walked two steps towards her and stared
directly at her. “I’m explaining things, so be quiet and listen.” He clasped his
hands together like a teacher. “I’m not going to fuck you, but I am going to do a
lot of other things to you. Things that you’re going to enjoy. I’ll eat your pussy.
I’ll suck on your tits, and I’ll put my fingers inside you.”
Lanie was shocked at his words, but even more shocked at how wet and
excited his words were making her.
She knew she should be insulted. But she wasn’t.
“Okay,” she whispered, her eyes slightly downcast. How was she supposed
to respond to this? Yes, she wanted him. Wanted him more than ever—but still.
His blunt honesty around his intentions was disconcerting.
He nodded as if her reaction was no surprise to him. “You’ll suck my cock
again, too,” he told her. “But there’s more.”
“More?” she breathed, hardly able to speak now.
“Yes,” he said. “In a moment, I’m going to spank your ass. I’m going to
spank it very hard, Lanie, because you refused to listen to me. I told you not to
touch your blindfold, and you tore it off. I told you not to ask questions, and yet
you continued to ask more and more questions.”
“I’m sorry—“
He held up a hand, his jaw twitching again. “The point is, we’re entering into
the next phase of our…relationship…for lack of a better term. You will listen to
me, or you will be spanked. And if you keep disobeying me, then it will lead to
other results. But for now, I think spanking is sufficient.”
“And what if I say no?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Maybe she was taunting him. Lanie didn’t even know, she only knew that her
nipples were hard and her pussy was wet and somehow she wasn’t nearly as
disturbed by his declaration as she should’ve been.
Brayden’s eyes focused on her intently, and there was a darkness—a strange
kind of desperate hunger—that she hadn’t expected to see in him.
“If you say no?” he asked, as if the thought had never even occurred to him.
She nodded, trying to stay strong and confident in the face of his intimidating
presence. “I don’t have to agree to any of this.”
“That’s true,” he allowed. His eyes looked her up and down, taking her
breath away, as she felt him almost undressing her visually.
Her skin broke into goose bumps and she felt her pussy moistening,
tightening, everything in her growing excited by the way he was staring at her.
“How many women have you brought here?” she asked, glancing down at her
glass of champagne before looking at him once more.
“I don’t see why that matters.”
“It matters to me,” she said, her shin jutting out as she felt herself growing
more frustrated with his insistence on controlling every aspect of their dynamic.
“Why does it matter?” he asked, coming closer. His hand reached out and
touched the glass she was holding, his fingers sliding over hers.
She felt herself shake ever so slightly from his contact. “It just does,” she
breathed, struggling to think straight as his body came near.
As if he knew the effect he was having, Brayden smiled wider. “You know
that I’ve been with many women. I’ve never hidden that from you or anyone
else.”
“But this is different,” she said. “This place, this new phase, whatever you
call it—this isn’t the same.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” she told him, her voice rising. She tried to back away and his
hand shot out and grabbed her around the waist, preventing her retreat.
“Tell me,” he insisted.
“Because, I don’t want to be just like every other girl.” Her cheeks flamed as
she admitted this to him. She looked down, feeling the beginnings of tears in her
eyes.
“Look at me, Lanie.” He touched her cheek softly.
She forced her gaze up to meet his and was shocked at the heat there, the
sense of need, of wanting, of desire that fully matched her own.
He smiled enigmatically. “You’ll never be just like every other girl. It’s an
impossibility.”
Lanie swallowed. “I’m still confused.”
 He frowned now and his voice was sharp. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
He withdrew, moving away from her, his movements harsh and annoyed as
he went to the table and poured himself another glass of champagne. “I’m not
here to sell this idea to you. It’s a proposition. Take it or leave it but don’t waste
anymore of my time.”
“Waste your time?” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Who the hell do you think
you are?”
He shook his head. “I could have anyone I wanted in here with me. Models,
actresses, the most beautiful and sexy women in the world—“
“Then get one of them,” she said, turning and heading for the door.
“Lanie!” he shouted.
She stopped in her tracks, not looking at him. Just waiting. “What.”
“If you leave this room…”
“What? You’ll fire me?”
“If you leave,” he said, his voice darker and angrier, “then this will never
happen again. This thing between us will be finished. I’m serious.”
She stood there for a moment and considered what he was telling her. This
was the ultimate ultimatum. Either be demeaned, spanked, treated like every
other model and wannabe actress that he’d paraded through this seedy room—or
take what little self-esteem she had left and leave.
And then you’ll never feel his touch again. Never touch him again.
It felt like physical pain to consider that this would end everything between
them. Lanie couldn’t deny that her feelings for Brayden were real, and her
physical attraction to him went beyond anything she’d ever experienced before.
But it wasn’t worth letting go of her dignity.
She started walking towards the door again.
“Lanie, think about what you’re doing right now,” he called after her.
She looked back briefly and gave him a quick smile. “I have thought about
it.” And then she turned and strode to the door, opened it and walked out. Lanie
continued down the strange hall, past the myriad doors that led to other rooms,
and heard muffled sounds of sex and pain and pleasure that apparently passed for
courting in these parts.
One door was open—and in this room, as she went by, she glimpsed a fully
naked woman, spread eagled, her buttocks red, and a muscular man holding a
long paddle, readying to swing it again.
Lanie was tempted to watch, but no. She needed to keep moving, and she
did, hearing the echoes of the slapping sounds, and the moans and grunts of the
woman being paddled fading into the distance.
When Lanie finally emerged onto the street, she realized she had no idea
where she was. She’d been blindfolded for the entire ride and had no clue how to
get home.
“Shit,” she muttered, turning on her cell phone and trying to get the GPS
working.
As she stood on the corner, fumbling, a car pulled alongside her and stopped.
She glanced up and saw Brayden staring out of the open window on the driver’s
side.
“Get in,” he told her.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“Come on,” Brayden continued. “I’ll give you a ride home, at least.”
She licked her lips. “But nothing’s going to happen. You said it’s over
between us.”
He gave a shrug. “I heard you, Lanie. It’s just a ride home.”
She sighed and walked around the car, got into the passenger seat. Once
she’d gotten into his car, and they were driving again, Lanie got a burst of
sadness.
Brayden had turned on the radio and there was some melancholy alternative
rock song playing low, but it gave her chills, as she kept the window down and
let the air breeze in through her window.
She felt relaxed and strangely at home in the car with him.
Why does it have to be so hard?
This feels right, like I belong here with him.
But obviously, she thought, that couldn’t be true. She wanted to belong with
Brayden Forman, but he was out of her league in too many ways to count.
 And he appeared to know it.
But you’re the one who turned him down, Lanie. He wanted you. He wanted
you and you chickened out.
Brayden glanced over at her. “You seem quiet.”
She sighed. “I like being with you. I like this. This, right now.” She couldn’t
seem to quite describe it, and her hands twisted against each other, fingers
intertwining nervously as she looked down, not willing to meet his gaze
anymore.
“I like this too,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.
She smiled. “But somehow…it’s all gone screwy.”
“You can say that again.”
She laughed. “Maybe we could be…I don’t know…friends?”
“No,” he said, instantly.
There was a long, telling silence. She nodded. “Yeah, of course. Friends.
How cheesy of me.”
“It’s not cheesy, it’s just not who I am.”
She looked at him, finally. It felt safer, and besides, he’d begun looking
straight ahead at the road. “So who are you, Brayden?”
“I’m just never going to be that kind of person. I’m never going to be that
friend you can count on, Lanie. It’s useless to even think about it.”
“I won’t think about it, then.” She sighed and looked out the window as the
melancholy guitar continued to sound out, making her heart ache even more.
After a time, Brayden pulled the car up to the sidewalk and parked it again.
She looked up and saw that they were parked in front of some fancy hotel,
the Park Savoy. It was a gorgeous building—one of those old, fancy, large New
York hotels where people were all polished, and their cars and clothes and shoes
and jewelry all gleamed as thought they’d been bought at the same old money
store.
“Ready?” he asked, as he turned off the engine and opened his door.
“Ready for what? What are we doing here?”
“I’d like to take you to dinner,” he said.
“But…I thought you said…”
 “Consider it my way of showing you there’s no hard feelings.” He got out of
the car, and Lanie took a deep breath.
One of the valet attendants opened her door. “Evening, ma’am.”
She got out, feeling distinctly underdressed. Her skirt was so short, and she
tugged at it, feeling the air on her legs—all the way up her thighs.
The older men standing nearby in their suits and ties, with bushy eyebrows,
stared at her legs so long that she wanted to hide.
But then Brayden was taking her hand. “Come on,” he said, pulling her
towards the restaurant entrance.

MIDWAY THROUGH DINNER, Lanie blurted out: “I’m drunk.”

Brayden chuckled. “Have a little more water, then. And a little less wine.”
“But the wine is amazing.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Actually, all the
food’s amazing.” She stuck her fork into a piece of the tender pork loin and
raised it to her lips, then inserted the delicate morsel into her mouth and began
chewing.
Every bite was exquisite.
She rolled her eyes into the back of her head and gave a low moan of
pleasure.
They were sitting at a romantic table by the window, and outside the lights of
various shops, buildings and cars reflected against the glass.
Inside, the restaurant was crowded and she felt less exposed.
Brayden smiled at her, but his eyes were watchful. “I’m glad you’re enjoying
it all.”
She nodded, swallowing her food and then taking a long sip of cold water,
showing the glass to him as if for his approval. “I am.” She sighed. “But this
can’t ever happen again, right? We can’t just go out to dinner, can’t be friends...”
Brayden shrugged. “It’s not how I’m built.”
“You’re a robot?”
 “No, I’m a very specific person with specific desires.”
She felt her cheeks flush and she blinked rapidly. “But is this not enjoyable
for you? What we’re doing right now?”
He shifted in his seat and swished the dark wine in his glass before replying.
“It’s enjoyable the way a vegetarian might occasionally smell a burger and find
their mouth watering over it.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “Wait, who’s a vegetarian? I’m eating pork loin and
you had a steak.”
“Okay, then.” He leaned slightly forward. “Pretend you didn’t really like
seafood, but occasionally you might still have a tuna sandwich.”
“So dinner with me is like a burger for a vegetarian or seafood for someone
who dislikes seafood.” Lanie raised her eyebrows. “Somehow, equating our
being friends with a stinky tuna sandwich seems a little crass.”
“It’s not personal,” Brayden told her. “It’s just how I am. This isn’t me.”
“But I didn’t ask for this,” she said. “I didn’t ask to come to this restaurant.”
“I wanted to do it,” he told her.
“Why?”
He sat back now. His smile faded and his eyes grew distant. “I’m not
completely sure.” He made a surprised face. “It just seemed like the thing to do.
I’m glad we’re here together. But after tonight…” his voice trailed off and he
waved a hand as if using a magic wand to erase everything.
“I like you,” she said softly. “Maybe it’s the wine talking, but I feel like I can
tell you that.”
He stared at her. “I like you too, Lanie. Very much.”
She felt her hands clench. “Then why can’t you be normal with me? Why
does it have to be so…so strange? I mean, what we did in your office—I liked
that. But does it have to only be like that?”
Brayden scratched at his jaw. “It does. It’s how I like things. And what I
showed you today at the club—that’s also how I like things. It’s how I need to
be, Lanie.”
“All I’m asking for is some normalcy.”
His cheek twitched and his lips pursed. “I understood you the first half dozen
times you told me that.”
She flinched a little. “Maybe you really would be happier calling up one of
your model friends. She can come and make you a fucking tuna sandwich.”
Lanie started to rise from her seat.
Brayden’s voice shot out in a growl from his throat. “Sit down, Lanie.”
Somehow, she instantly obeyed his command. Her butt connected with the
chair and she felt her chest rising and falling quickly as her throat constricted. “I
don’t like the way you talk to me.”
He glared at her. “The feeling’s mutual.”
“So what do we do now?”
“I want you to get up from the table and follow me.”
“Where?” she said, feeling her thighs shudder, her heart pound, her nipples
stiffen.
Brayden stood up and dropped his napkin on the table. “Come on.” He
turned and walked away from the table without looking back.
For a long moment, Lanie just sat there.
Sit, stand. Crawl. Beg.
What more does he want from me?
And why am I only too happy to give it to him?
Brayden still hadn’t checked to see that she was following him, and soon he
would disappear from view.
Lanie didn’t want to be left, so she finally got up and slid her chair
backwards, bumping into a woman sitting at the table directly behind her. The
older woman shot her a look as if Lanie had just insulted her firstborn child.
“Sorry,” Lanie muttered, grabbing her purse and quickly running after
Brayden.
She caught up to him just inside the main lobby of the hotel.
“Brayden,” she said. “Where are we going?”
He looked at her. “Stop.”
“Stop?”
“Stop asking questions,” he told her. “You know how it is. Take it or leave
it,” he said.
 “I thought you said it’s over with us. Because—“
“You talk too much,” he said. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
She smiled. “Maybe. A few people.”
His eyes were hungry as he stepped closer. “You have no idea what I can do
to you, Lanie. No idea.”
She took a sharp inhalation of breath, and she could smell him, feel him, and
she’d never wanted something so badly in all of her life. “I want to find out,” she
said, her voice quivering, and she didn’t break eye contact this time.
He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Than follow me.”
“You didn’t pay the bill.”
“I have a room here. They know me.” He turned around and started walking
towards a bank of elevators.
Lanie followed him.
When they got inside the elevators, there was a family of four inside. All of
them were speaking German, and they looked quite fashionable—even the
littlest boy was dressed like an adult.
Their unfamiliar language washed over Lanie as she watched Brayden. He
gave her a slow smile that tingled her all over.
Why do I feel like I’ve won something?
Because you think he gave in a little—just enough to tantalize you. Enough
to make you think you got something from him, when in reality nothing’s
changed.
Lanie swallowed drily. She felt sexy, charged up, excited.
No man had ever looked at her the way Brayden did. And he always looked
at her that way. As if he was perpetually wanting to be inside her.
Just the thought of it was getting her wet.
But remember? He said he could never sleep with you.
Actually, his exact words were that he’d never fuck you.
How charming.
The elevator doors let them out and Brayden walked confidently to the room,
holding a card up in front of the door handle. The light near the handle turned
green and he opened the door. “After you,” he said, gesturing for her to walk
inside.
She hesitated. “What are we doing?”
“No questions.”
“But I have questions.”
His shoulders lifted. “That’s not part of the agreement.”
“We don’t have any agreement, Brayden.”
She saw his hand clench tightly around the doorknob. “Get in the room.
Now.”
“What if I refuse?”
“You like to threaten,” he said. “Fine, Lanie. You do as you wish.” He
walked inside the room and shut the door in her face.
She was shocked.
She walked to the door and pounded on it, three times. Hard.
No answer.
“Brayden, please open the door.”
She wasn’t thinking clearly and she knew it.
He had her that worked up. He made her crazy.
After a minute or two went by, the hotel door opened. “Enough game
playing,” he said, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her inside. The door shut
behind her and now she was in an enormous room.
There was a fake fireplace and it was on, the strange flames waving yellow
and flickering red. Soft music was playing through overhead speakers. Seductive
music with a deep bass line and a steady drumbeat.
The curtains on the window were halfway open, exposing the skyline of the
city to her as she stood there, while Brayden held her wrist tightly.
“Let go of me,” she said.
“What if I refuse?” he countered, his eyes mischievous.
“I’ll scream.”
“Oh, you’ll be screaming all right,” he smiled. “Soon enough.”
She felt her breathing quicken. “That’s not what I meant.” Lanie pulled free
of his grip and crossed to the window. “It’s beautiful.”
“I like my view even better,” he said, and she saw his eyes in the window’s
reflection. He was staring at her ass.
“Cute,” she whispered, and felt her nipples stiffening once again.
He approached from behind. “I didn’t realize you enjoyed the game quite so
much,” he said, his lips brushing her ear as he pressed his body against her. His
hands grasped her hips and then slid brazenly to her breasts.
She could feel his hardness pressing into her backside.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“You know exactly what’s going on. Stop pretending.” He squeezed her
breasts tighter.
“Brayden…” she couldn’t think anymore. It felt too good.
She was so turned on, so wet.
“Lanie. I want you.” His words penetrated. It felt as if his voice was inside
her.
He began grinding his hips against her backside, and now his rod was truly
pushing, forcing her skirt up as she rocked into him.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, as his large, strong hand slid down between her
legs, outside her skirt. His fingers pressed into her center point, and stimulated
her swollen clit.
“Fuck, I can’t take this anymore,” he said, biting her earlobe. And then he
was hiking her skirt all the way up her creamy thighs, revealing her thong, and
his fingers slid beneath it and began entering her wet mound.
Her palms pressed against the cool window.
Her lips trembled, her teeth bared as an orgasm rocked her core, and she saw
her breath fogging the glass.
“Oh, shit, I’m coming. Oh, shit.”
His fingers slid all the way inside her now.
“Christ, you’re wet. And tight.” Suddenly, she heard the distinctive sound of
his pants being unzipped.
“Brayden, fuck me,” she whispered.
Just like she’d whispered and called out in her bathtub, never thinking it
might become real one day.
“You want a thick cock filling that untouched pussy?” he said.
 “Oh, yes. Brayden, I need your cock.” She rocked her hips, and she heard his
pants falling to the floor, his belt jingling.
“Damn it,” he muttered. “I’m so fucking hard for you. Christ, I’ve never
been this rock hard in my life. Look at your ass. Look at that wet fucking pussy.
He nibbled on her ear as he fingered her pussy faster.
This time, he inserted two fingers inside her. They slipped in easily.
She was so wet. So wet.
“Brayden, I want to come on your dick,” she gasped.
“Spread those fucking legs,” he grunted.
She did as he said. Her legs were spread and her skirt was all the way up, and
now her whole lower body was revealed to him.
He slapped her ass hard. Once. Then again.
She cried out in pleasure. It didn’t hurt at all.
Not even a little.
And then she felt his cock, the head of it, sliding underneath, between her
legs. The head of his cock slid in between her pussy lips, and she threw her head
back and cried out louder. “Oh, Brayden. Oh my God.”
She’d never felt something so good.
She’d never wanted something so bad.
She was insane with lust for this man.
Even though she’d never had sex, this was so overwhelming that she
couldn’t be afraid or worried. He had turned her on so effortlessly, and Lanie
knew that she wanted him.
But he said—
What did he say?
Never.
Never have sex with you.
And then…he was.
His cock was entering her tight pussy, spreading her for the first time in her
life, and she was gasping and moaning.
There was a sharp pain, and she cried out, but it was sweet in its own way.
He’s fucking you.
 “Brayden…”
“I know,” he whispered in her ear.
“You’re fucking me.”
“I know.”
“It feels good, Brayden. So good.”
“You feel amazing,” he whispered, and then his tongue was in her mouth.
His hands were on her tits.
His cock slid deeply inside.
He’s fucking me.
I’m not a virgin anymore. Oh, God, it feels so good. Oh, I’m coming. Fuck,
I’m coming.
She cried out loudly, as his hard cock slid in and out faster and faster, wetter
and wetter, and now he’d loosened her up and he was pounding hard against her
ass with his hips, burying his dick deeply into her fresh, dripping mound of
flesh.
“I can’t help myself,” he told her, his breath on her cheek now.
“Oh.”
“Can’t.”
“Oh God.”
“Fucking. Help it.”
And then he was exploding inside her, his hips smashing so hard into her
backside that her face almost hit the glass.
Brayden groaned as he released everything.
She was coming again too.
They climaxed as one, breathless, falling into each other.

AFTERWARD, they lay naked in the huge, luxurious bed.

She climbed on top of Brayden as he stared up at her.
She climbed onto his dick.
 “You’re already hard again,” she smiled, inserting his swollen cock into
herself and then sitting down on him.
His eyes rolled back as his hands grasped her hips.
She swiveled on him. “Does that feel good?” she asked.
He groaned and nodded.
And then she was riding his enormous dick. She was so wet and couldn’t
believe he was hard again.
She fucked Brayden’s dick, as her hands massaged his muscular chest and
his hands explored her hips, her breasts. He took her breast in his warm mouth
and sucked her nipples until she came again.
And then he was shooting his load inside her and pulling out to finish the rest
onto her pussy mound.
Some of it splattered his own belly, too. She climbed off, licked down his
stomach and sucked his come, licked it, sucked it off his lower belly and then
even sucked his cock.
“Christ,” he said, seemingly shocked by her enthusiasm.
She sucked his cum and her own juices off his dick. It tasted sweet and salty
and her nostrils filled with the smell of pungent sex.
“You’re getting hard again,” she laughed, stroking his still wet dick.
“Jesus, you’re insatiable,” he said.
His eyes were wide.
She sucked again, taking pleasure in doing something new. Doing something
he’d never seen before.
“How do you keep getting hard again so quickly?” she said, as she stroked
with her hand and watched him stiffening yet again.
“I have no idea. It’s never happened before.” His hands gripped the sheets
and squeezed.
And then she was sucking him again, and although she still couldn’t take him
deeply into her mouth easily, she could use a combination of stroking and
sucking to do the trick.
Before long, he shot his seed into her mouth and she took it all in.
When they finished this time, he pulled her into his arms. “Enough,” he said,
his chest heaving. “Enough. I’m fucking exhausted, Lanie.”
She grinned, snuggling into his arms.

WHEN SHE AWOKE LATER that night, Brayden wasn’t in bed. At first, she thought he
must have gone to the bathroom.
But then she turned over and saw that he was standing in front of the
window, staring out at the city. The dim glare of light reflected back on him just
enough to light his face in profile.
She could see that his expression was not happy.
He looked grim, drawn. He stood there, looking out as if he was searching,
searching.
Lanie felt her heart grow colder as she watched him.
What’s wrong? Why does he look so incredibly unhappy?
She wanted to say something, ask if he was okay. But inside, a little voice
told her not to speak.
He doesn’t want to talk, Lanie.
She lay there and watched him from the darkness of the bed, wondering how
long he’d been standing like that and how long he was going to keep staring out
the window.
She’d felt so close, so sexy and warm and intimate with Brayden just a little
while ago.
He had sex with me.
We fucked. Even though he said he never would.
And now…now is he regretting that?
She wanted to believe that maybe he was just having a little bout of insomnia
or something, but Lanie felt certain it was a lot more than just having difficulty
sleeping that was causing him to stand there and stare out the window with that
look on his face.
Minutes went by.
 Finally, he seemed to blink, as if waking from a trance. He heaved a deep
sigh deep from his chest and let it out, running a hand through his hair.
Brayden turned his head and looked at her.
She lay very still, knowing he had no idea she’d been awake watching him.
Keeping her eyes slightly closed, she could still see him while he didn’t
realize it.
And the look on his face frightened her.
Brayden Forman was staring at her with regret and sadness the likes of
which she could hardly stand.
And then he walked into the main room, and she saw him lie down on the
couch.
He never came back into the bedroom.
Lanie tossed and turned the rest of the night, feeling sickened, feeling empty
and used up and crumpled.
Tears burned her eyes.
I can’t believe I was so stupid. Why did I let him do that? Why did I have sex
with him when I knew it had to end badly?
Because it felt amazing.
You’d let him do it all again if you could—right now. If he came back into the
room and climbed into the bed and kissed you…
Even the thought of that made her want to weep. It was true—she couldn’t
say no to Brayden. Couldn’t say no to the feeling he stirred so deeply inside her
soul—touching her, wanting her, looking at her like no man had ever done.
But the loss of his affection was as painful as the touching had been
pleasurable.
When dawn broke, she finally rose out of bed and went to the bathroom. Her
eyes were bloodshot and sad in the mirror, and she splashed her face with cold
water.
Her stomach felt vaguely curdled from the drinking, and her head had a dull
ache, mostly behind her eyeballs.
She came out of the bathroom and found Brayden, fully dressed, in the
bedroom. His expression was difficult to read. “Morning,” he said, his tone cold,
as if they didn’t know one another very well.
Maybe that’s because we don’t.
What do I really know about him?
“Morning,” she replied, trying to match his cool detachment. She walked to
the bedside and put on clothes that had come off the previous evening.
“I’m heading over to the office. I have an early morning meeting.”
She glanced at him, swallowed. Nodded. “Okay.”
“You should relax. Stay here for a bit and come in later.”
“No, I need to go home and shower and change.”
“You can come in a little late to the office if need be.”
She felt her stomach tighten. “If that’s what you want.”
Brayden let out a little hiss of displeasure. “I didn’t say that. I’m trying…I’m
trying to be considerate, here.”
Lanie straightened her posture as she stood in last night’s dirty, skanky
clothing and watched the man who’d taken her virginity act as though he barely
knew her name. “Considerate? Is that what you’re being?”
“Don’t,” he said, putting a hand to his forehead and rubbing. “I have a
massive fucking headache.”
“That must be difficult for you,” she said.
He gave her a disbelieving smirk. “It is. It’s really difficult. My life is
tough.”
“Oh, yeah.” She widened her eyes. “I can tell.”
“Lanie,” he said, sighing. “I know that what happened last night was…”
“Unexpected?” she countered, enjoying some part of his discomfort.
“Yes, unexpected.” Brayden’s lips curled. “I didn’t intend for things to go
that far.”
“Well, then. It must be okay. You didn’t intend.”
He shook his head. “I knew this would happen.”
“I’m very predictable.”
“No, you’re fucking stubborn.”
“I’m definitely fucking. No doubt about that,” she quipped.
Brayden turned his body away from her. “I can’t do this. I can’t, Lanie. Stay
here if you want for a bit. Or don’t. Come into the office whenever…just do
what you need to do.”
And then he was leaving the hotel room, and Lanie wanted to shout after him
—tell him how cruel he was. Tell him how much he’d hurt her, how furious and
sad and wounded she was.
But she didn’t say a word.

WHEN LANIE ARRIVED at the office that morning, her stomach was full of
butterflies.
She’d returned back to her apartment, showered, changed into a conservative
outfit—slacks and a plain white blouse.
There would be no flirting, no begging for his attention.
She felt angry, bitter and hostile. But in a way, she liked the feeling. It was
clean, it was far easier to be bitter and jaded than it was to feel sad, and aching
loneliness.
So she got into the office and held her head up high.
The moment she got into the workspace, she saw that Brayden was in his
office with the door shut, on the phone, leaning back in his chair.
He looked gorgeous and perfect and completely unattainable.
For a brief moment, she questioned her own sanity.
Did we really sleep together?
No.
You dreamed it.
You were hallucinating.
Just look at him on the phone, smiling, laughing, not a care in the world.
He’s not hung-over, he’s not regretting the time he spent with you last night
because it never even happened except in your mind.
“He only gets more attractive if you stare at him,” someone said from right
behind her, and Lanie startled, putting a hand over her face.
 “Shit,” she said. “You…you startled me.” She turned to find Freda standing
just behind her with a smile on her face.
The woman was as drop-dead-gorgeous today as she’d been the previous day
when they’d met in the office restroom. Frida grinned. “I caught you spying, but
it’s our secret.” She pretended to turn an imaginary key in front of her lips and
then toss it.
Lanie frowned slightly, her brow creasing. “I wasn’t spying. I’m just a little
tired. Maybe coming down with something.”
“Oh, no. Poor thing.” Frida rubbed Lanie’s shoulder for a second and then
motioned her to follow. “Come to my lair, child. I have everything and anything
you could need.”
Lanie found that she didn’t necessarily want to follow this strange woman
who’d accused her of spying on Brayden Forman, who acted like they’d known
one another for ages and ages instead of less than thirty minutes total.
But she didn’t want to be rude.
She needed friends, especially now that Brayden Forman seemed to be
hoping she would dry up and blow away like she’d never existed.
They got to Frida’s workspace and the leggy woman sat down and then
opened her large, expansive purse. “So, let’s see what we have…” she muttered,
pouring through its contents like an old country doctor going through the
medicine bag.
“I’m fine, really,” Lanie muttered. “Probably just need a coffee is all.”
“Oh, well. Want a caffeine pill? It’s fast acting,” Frida said, looking up
hopefully.
Lanie shrugged. “I don’t think so. Cup a coffee will do fine.” She smiled.
“You sure? I’ve got Echinacea, vitamin C, D, licorice root…this powder that
supposedly comes from a Chinese herbalist and gives you great focus.”
“Maybe later, if I’m still feeling out of it.”
“Okay.” Frida’s foot tapped on the floor. She shifted, her eyes darting from
one point in the room to another, then her gaze landed on Lanie. “So, how are
you liking working with the big man?”
“Big man?”
 “You know.” Frida jabbed her thumb back towards Brayden’s office and then
peered over her shoulder in his direction. “I hear he’s quite the taskmaster.”
“We only just started working together,” Lanie said. “I can’t say.”
“But he’s so handsome, right? And funny, too.”
“I suppose.”
“You suppose?” Frida spun toward Lanie and leant forward, her voice
dropping to a whisper. “Has he hit on you yet?”
“No, of course not.” Lanie frowned again. She desperately wanted to get
away from this woman.
But Frida was still going. “He will,” she said, confidently, nodding. “He will.
It’s a sure thing.”
“I don’t really have any interest,” Lanie lied. Her lips felt numb.
She felt sick.
“Well, you’ll be the first then,” Frida said. She winked.
Lanie was getting upset. Truly upset. She leaned closer to Frida now. She
could smell shampoo and perfume, and beneath that, a scent of cocoa butter and
skin.
She could also see Frida’s breasts, like two perfect globes, encased in a sexy
lace bra.
“What do you mean? I’ll be the first?” Lanie asked softly.
“Yeah. The first girl in this office he hasn’t fucked.”
Lanie felt like she’d been slapped. “You’re joking.”
“Ask anyone, girl. I’m not joking. You need to be careful if you don’t want
to be just another notch on his belt.”
“So you…you’ve been with him too?” Lanie said.
Frida seemed to grow uneasy. “All I’m saying…”
“Did you?” Lanie pressed.
“I’m just…I’m only telling you…you should know…”
Lanie found her hands clenching into fists as Frida continued stuttering and
avoiding the answer.
“It’s a simple question,” Lanie said.
“Shit, I need my medicine.” Frida pulled a small prescription bottle out of
her purse and uncapped it, then dumped two tiny round pills into the palm of her
hand. She tossed the pills into her wide-open mouth and chased them with a sip
of water.
Lanie wasn’t done, though.
She wanted a direct answer about whether Frida had screwed Brayden. Why
it was so vital, she couldn’t say.
Obviously, everyone’s been fucked by him.
You were.
He screws everyone.
Everyone.
Disgust threatened to overwhelm her, and then Brayden was calling across
the workspace to her.
“Lanie!” he called.
She glanced up.
Brayden had come out of his office and into the main workspace. He
gestured for her to come to him, waving two fingers in a quick, efficient
beckoning motion.
“Duty calls, huh?” Frida giggled.
Lanie rolled her eyes and then headed over, feeling incredibly insecure.
They all know.
God, they all know.
She wanted to puke.
When she got closer to the office door, she saw that Brayden had set a cup of
coffee by his seat and then another across the desk.
“Come inside,” he said, holding his door open and allowing her in.
She had to pass very close to his hard body in his finely tailored suit to go
inside. Her breath caught in her chest.
She could smell his scent.
She could feel herself wanting him again already, despite everything.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
 She pursed her lips, then sat down heavily in the chair.
“I got you a cup of coffee from the café across the street. Great stuff,” he
said, walking behind his desk and sitting down, picking up his coffee cup and
holding it close to his flat belly that was tight against his button down shirt.
His blazer hung open and his tie was sliding off to the side as he leaned back,
revealing the broadness of his chest.
Lanie picked up her coffee cup, too. “Thank you,” she murmured, unable to
look into his eyes.
“So,” he said.
There was a long, awkward silence.
She smiled, but it didn’t feel real. Sipped her coffee. It was warm and good.
“You wanted to see me?” she asked, eventually.
“I did,” he nodded. “Yes. Of course. We’ve got work to do.”
“Right. Work.”
He scratched his cheek. “And I suppose we should discuss…you know.” He
flapped his hand as if that said it all.
Lanie felt her cheeks burning.
She thought about those things Frida had said. It made her nauseous.
“I know,” she replied, finally.
“You know?” he asked.
“I know that this is going to be some big explanation for why last night was a
mistake,” she told him, toying with her coffee cup as she said it.
“I know that last night was confusing for you,” he said.
“This sounds rehearsed.”
“It’s not,” he replied, curtly.
“Are you sure?” She raised her eyes and challenged him.
“Yes, I’m sure.” His brow furrowed. “And I get that you might be angry,
because I told you it wasn’t going to happen.”
“You said you wouldn’t fuck me,” she agreed. “And then you did. Fuck me,
that is.”
Brayden’s cheeks flushed now, and she felt a surge of triumph at having
made the CEO uncomfortable. “It was confusing…for both of us,” he stated.
 She snorted. “Sure it was.”
“You don’t believe me?”
Lanie shrugged. “If you say so, then I believe you.”
“That’s never happened to me before,” he told her.
She laughed. “I highly doubt that.”
“What I mean is, I usually keep my word. And I don’t ever lose control. I’m
not sure what happened. Something came over me.”
“That’s convenient. Something came over you.” She wanted to scream in his
face but then she also wanted to tear his shirt off, or let him throw her over the
desk and enter her tightest place, fill her completely, ride her in front of the
entire office while they watched.
Brayden put his coffee back on the desktop and stood up. His neck was red
and his eyes were intense. “You’re being difficult, Lanie.”
She put her coffee down, too, staring back at him. “I feel sorry for you,
having to deal with me.”
“Lanie.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We need to keep things
professional from this point forward.”
“Oh. Yes. Professional.” She nodded.
“Don’t be sarcastic with me.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” she said, taunting him intentionally.
“Lanie.”
“Yes?” She blinked innocently.
“We’re going to keep things very simple from now on.”
Lanie was about to respond back with yet another verbal jab. She wanted to
keep jabbing until Brayden took it back. Took back this idea that they were
going to be strictly professional—took back this notion that he didn’t want her
anymore.
Suddenly, there were murmurs, loud and growing louder from the employees
out in the main workspace.
Something was going on.
For a flash, Lanie wondered if their conversation was somehow going out
over the speakers or something.
 Everyone knew.
She felt herself grow momentarily faint at the thought of it.
But then she saw people staring at their computer screens, and looking at one
another with shocked, confused and anxious expressions and she realized that
whatever was going on—it had nothing to do with her and Brayden.
Virgil stalked out of his office right next to them, and his eyes were wide,
mouth flexing into a grimace. He turned, almost robotically, and stared at
Brayden.
“What the hell’s going on?” Brayden yelled.
“Get out here,” Virgil told him.
Brayden quickly went out to the main workspace and Lanie followed.
“Has there been a terrorist attack or something?” Brayden whispered at his
co-founder.
“Hackers,” Virgil said flatly. And then he gave Brayden a sidelong,
suspicious glance.
All across the large room, Lanie heard a voice repeating in fragments,
coming from various computers and speakers as everyone in the office watched
whatever it was that had gotten such a strange reaction from them.
“We’ve been hacked?” Brayden said, moving towards one of the monitors at
the closest desk and spinning it towards himself.
The man who sat there jumped out of his seat. “Do you—“
“Just play the message, whatever it is,” Brayden snapped.
The man sat back down and quickly his fingers tapped across the keys.
Seconds later, an image appeared on the monitor.
It was a close-up camera angle of a man wearing makeup and an extremely
long nose. He had very long lashes and wide eyes, almost comically wide. And
the nose was obviously a prosthetic.
“Looks like that guy from A Clockwork Orange,” Brayden muttered.
“I think that’s the idea,” Virgil nodded, arms folded across his bulky chest.
A strange, low, distorted voice came from the speakers as the bizarre clown-
like character on the monitor began talking. “Hello Hook Up sycophants and
hucksters. I am so pleased to be speaking to you. And especially you, Brayden
Forman.”
Brayden turned and looked at Virgil, his expression one of disgust and
contempt. “What the hell is this? A joke?”
“I don’t think so,” Virgil said.
Brayden turned back to the monitor.
The creepy clown person grinned with his wide eyes and cocked his head at
an angle, causing his long prosthetic nose to jiggle comically.
And then Lanie realized it wasn’t supposed to be a nose.
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
It’s a penis. He’s wearing a penis on his nose.
“Brayden Forman is a very naughty boy, isn’t he?” the distorted voice
laughed. “Brayden Forman likes to stick his hand in the cookie jar. He likes to
play games with people—especially women. Isn’t that right, Forman the
Fornicator?”
Lanie saw the CEO’s back expand as he slapped his palms down on the desk
in front of the monitor.
“This is crap,” Brayden said. “Someone’s just messing with us—“
“Keep listening, dammit,” Virgil told him. “This is real.”
The creepy clown person was acting weirder and weirder. He shook his head
from side to side, making the dick nose swing back and forth and almost appear
to stick out of the monitor.
Finally, he spoke again. “We’ve hacked into the Hookup system because you
are a corrupt, disgusting company with a repugnant CEO who can’t keep his
dick in his pants. Your sick CEO needs to apologize, publicly, to all of the
women he has used and screwed and shamed and hurt. He has made a mockery
of love, a mockery of romance, a mockery of the bond between men and women.
And he will apologize for being a sniveling, lying, dirty dealing pig who
mistreats women. A misogynist of the highest order. He will apologize and
broadcast it on YouTube within the next twenty-four hours, and it must be kept
available for viewing forever and ever Amen. If Forman the Fornicator does not
comply with our demand, we will release all of the personal information—all the
credit card and identifying information of Hookup’s clientele that we’ve
obtained. And that includes pictures. Everything will be revealed.”
The wide-eyed character leaned towards the camera and now the penis nose
really did hit the lens. He uttered a distorted, hair-raising laugh, and then the
video ended abruptly.
Lanie came to the realization that everyone in the workspace was now
looking at Brayden.
All eyes were fixed on him and the office had gone deathly silent.
Even Virgil was watching him, his eyes hooded and his expression
enigmatic.
“This is crap,” Brayden said, standing tall. He looked at everyone who was
watching him. “You hear me, guys? This is just bullshit. We have the tightest
cyber security in the business. Have there been any signs of a security breach?”
A few people shook their heads, but they seemed uncertain, Lanie decided.
Her palms were sweating and her hands felt itchy.
“It’s credible,” Virgil said softly.
“Why is it credible?” Brayden asked, turning to him.
“Because, they sent that message to everyone’s email. Obviously, they know
something. They hit all of us at once. It’s a well-planned, concerted effort. How
do you explain that?”
Brayden shook his head stubbornly. “It’s bullshit. They just want to
embarrass me. Embarrass us.”
“But if—“
“If they had something, they’d have shown it,” Brayden replied, his voice
confident. He turned and looked around the room. “I’m telling you all, if this
fool—this jackass sitting in his mother’s basement—had a damn thing on us, he
would have shown proof of it in the video. But this was just a cheap scare
tactic.”
People nodded in acquiescence, and Lanie thought it was amazing how
quickly Brayden seemed to have gained everyone’s trust back.
They believe in him, she thought. And then she realized that she did too.
Virgil shook his head once. “Okay,” he sighed. “So, business as usual then?”
“Obviously, we need to try and trace it, try and see who’s pulling a stunt like
that. Probably stupid college kids, trying to be the next Anonymous,” Brayden
said, his voice lower. “But we’re fine, Virg. We’re fine. Our security is the best.”
“So we thought.”
“No, it is.” Brayden grinned and clapped his friend on the shoulder.
Virgil seemed to relax and then everyone else was laughing and shaking their
heads, getting back to some semblance of normalcy.
Lanie still had a gnawing sense of unease.
She knew less than nothing about hackers or any of this, but that creepy
person on the monitor had struck her as very serious.
And very frightening.
She was still chewing her bottom lip when a new chorus of murmurs and
buzzing rippled through the workspace.
Brayden and Virgil looked at their employees, their relief fading as they
realized something new had occurred already.
“What now,” Virgil said, his teeth showing.
The closest person turned to them. “A new email,” he said. “They sent a
chunk of files. Database files, they claim.”
Brayden ran to the computer closest and bumped the employee away. He
began typing furiously, and his head was focused so intently on the screen, his
torso bent over as he typed and scanned the evidence.
Virgil moved next to him. “Is it real?” he shouted. “Is it real?”
Brayden pounded his fist against the keyboard so hard that keys flew off and
landed on the floor. One of the keys, an R, landed right near Lanie’s right foot.
She stared down at the key from the keyboard, feeling a strange sense of pity
for it. It looked so lonely and bereft. Broken.
Brayden straightened and put his head in his hands and then he lifted his
head and closed his eyes.
“Shut it down,” he announced.
Virgil stared at him. “You can’t be serious.” He grabbed at Brayden’s shirt.
“Hey, listen to me, man. You can’t—“
Braden shrugged the President off him, and looked out at his employees, his
voice rising louder. “Shut everything down. We’re finished.”
 Lanie took a step backwards, feeling her heart hammering in her chest.
Virgil was shaking his head and talking to Brayden, but Brayden wasn’t
listening anymore. He gave Lanie one last look over his shoulder, and then he
was walking briskly across the office floor, as Virgil shouted after him.
But Brayden didn’t stop walking. His legs moved faster and faster and turned
into a jog through the office space.
By the end, he was running.
Brayden Forman ran out of the office and disappeared.

THE END OF CATCH (THE BILLIONAIRE’S RULES, BOOK 14)

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