Owned (Office Intrigue Book 8) Read online

  I narrowed my eyes on his face, trying to read between the lines.

  “You’re a smart man, Ransom. This is an opportunity for you and your sister to make a clean break. Start over.”

  Okay. When he said he knew a few things, I clearly hadn’t considered what he might’ve uncovered.

  “Make the most of it,” he continued, “and ensure those who’re looking for you realize you’re gone for good. After all, you’ve done it once before.”

  Surely Talon wasn’t suggesting…

  “It’s the only way to get out from under them,” Talon added. “But this time it needs to be permanent. Staying here, practically under their noses, is no longer an option.”

  He was right. Staging our deaths would certainly put them off our scent once and for all.

  “I’ll consider it.”

  “Will you be attending TJ’s party tonight?”

  Relaxing somewhat, I followed Talon toward the door. “I’d planned on it.”

  “You should try to be there. It’ll give you one last chance to see your friends. After tonight…”

  He didn’t have to finish the sentence. I knew exactly what starting fresh entailed. It meant I had to abandon all the friends I’d made over the years. When all was said and done…

  They’d be mourning my death.

  Then again, if I didn’t do this, it was likely they’d be standing over my grave anyway.

  *

  TALON

  I certainly had not been expecting Ransom Bishop to show up today and ask for a favor. A monumental one, at that.

  I had to admit, it was a fairly intriguing way to start the last day of the year.

  It had nothing to do with the fact Ransom would owe me in return for the grand gesture I would make to ensure he and his sister were safe from this point forward. That was a given and he knew it, but that was how I operated. Those closest in my circle understood I was willing to go above and beyond for the people who were important to me. And like it or not, Ransom was important to me. He was a dear friend, and I’d known for quite some time that he was in trouble. And yes, while I could be incredibly generous to those within my inner circle, I could also do serious damage when someone crossed me. Good thing most people tended to steer clear because of it. It kept that valued inner circle small.

  Turning my attention away from the door Ransom had exited through, I lifted a hand and motioned with my finger as I walked over to the wall of windows overlooking Chicago.

  Auberon was instantly at my side, taking my jacket when I began to shrug out of it. After hanging it, he returned, moving to stand where I pointed. With a nod of my head, he eased down to his knees. I stared down at him while he unhooked my belt, unbuttoned my slacks, then slid them down my hips.

  Spreading my legs wider, I gave Auberon another nod.

  “Slowly,” I commanded when he curled his fingers around my cock.

  There was no response, merely obedience. Being that Auberon was my possession, he did not speak directly to me. None of them did. It was not necessary, because the rule was, I gave instructions, my possessions followed them. I held a great deal of responsibility being that I had to be clear in what I wanted, but that was the only concession I made.

  Staring out at the darkened sky, I thought about Ransom’s request. What appealed to me most about it was the fact that I would get to see his sister, Braelyn, again. A woman I hadn’t seen in over a year. Up until Halloween of last year, right after I noticed a shift in Ransom, I hadn’t even realized the man had a sibling. And based on what little I’d garnered from those we interacted with mutually, I didn’t think they were aware of her, either. Except maybe Zeke, although he had never revealed anything. Ransom had done a damn fine job keeping her hidden. As for his reasons … well, I could only assume it had something to do with their parents, who, according to what I’d learned, were neck deep in organized crime.

  Despite the fact I had unearthed details about Braelyn—date of birth, college transcript, credit score, etc.—I hadn’t been able to lay eyes on her again. It didn’t appear there were any pictures of the woman. Not even an old student ID or one from her current employer. To top it off, Braelyn Bishop had no social media presence whatsoever, which was quite the feat for a twenty-four-year-old, I figured.

  Unfortunately, it meant I had to go off memory alone to fuel the erotic fantasies I’d been plagued with.

  I peered down at my possession. “Suck me.”

  Auberon was graceful in the transition, his hand continuing to stroke as he leaned in and took me in the blessed heat of his mouth. I let the sensations consume me as I turned my attention out the window.

  Some would think I was a monster; others would find my behavior degrading. I could see how it could be misconstrued, sure. Who would want to be in a relationship like that? Probably no one. Good thing there was no relationship here. My possessions were exactly that. Things that I owned. Things that just happened to be human. There was no give and take here. It was not a two-way street. I took; they gave. My possessions relinquished all their rights (willingly) when I acquired them. I did not coddle or console them; they did not want that from me. It was exactly the way it was meant to work. For all of us.

  Sliding my fingers into Auberon’s silky dark hair, I tugged his face closer, a silent demand for more. I relaxed, enjoying the way he skillfully worshipped my cock. I could’ve had him do this for hours and he wouldn’t complain. In fact, he would revel in the idea of servicing me. That was his ultimate desire, to please me, in whatever form I requested, while being controlled by me and me alone.

  It was no secret there were some who considered me a perverted tyrant for owning people. Even more who didn’t understand my proclivities. I didn’t make it a point to explain my actions to anyone, because I honestly didn’t give a shit what others thought. Then again, I didn’t make a point to reveal too much about myself, either. Some things were better kept to oneself.

  I grunted from the suction of Auberon’s mouth, curled my fingers tightly, and pulled his head forward as I rolled my hips, using his mouth for my pleasure.

  My thoughts drifted to the day I’d been introduced to Braelyn for the first time. Although our interaction had been brief, I hadn’t forgotten her. In fact, I hadn’t stopped thinking about her since then. I had no idea what it was about the woman, but she’d managed to do what no other ever had: intrigue me.

  I groaned, continuing to pump my hips, thrusting my cock in and out of Auberon’s mouth until the first electric sparks of my impending orgasm began. And when I could take no more, I roughly jerked his head forward, forcing my cock into his throat, his lips wrapped firmly around my shaft. I pushed in as deep as I could go, held him there, gritting my teeth to stave off the orgasm for a few blessed seconds.

  “Make me come,” I demanded, releasing his head to give him control once more.

  He took over, graciously sucking me harder, faster, deeper. So fucking deep. I groaned, planting one hand on the window, holding myself rigid. I grunted and groaned, my spine tingling, my muscles clenching as he milked my cock. Locking my knees for leverage, I grabbed his head once more, thrust my hips forward, driving deep into his throat and letting myself go.

  The orgasm would do nothing to sate the urges that plagued me. It rarely did. That was the very reason I had seven possessions, all used solely by me every single day in any manner I saw fit. Despite having exactly what I’d set out to have, I’d never been completely sated. Not once in my thirty-six years. But that didn’t stop me from continuing to search for what would.

  Auberon did his duty of cleaning me thoroughly before I tucked myself away, righting my clothing. He returned to his position near the wall, awaiting my instruction.

  “Have Tiegan come in here.”

  Auberon silently slipped out of my office.

  Of my seven possessions, Auberon had been with me the longest, and I tended to take him wherever I went, with the exception of the club or anywhere that involved BDSM o
r the like. I’d never shared my possessions with anyone and had no intention of doing so, which meant keeping them out of the public eye. I was selfish in that regard. No sense tempting others with something they would never have. They belonged to me; they served only me and always would. Well, with the exception of the queen I would one day have. They would serve her the same way they served me. Since I’d yet to meet a woman who was queen-worthy, we were all still awaiting the day.

  When I had started looking for my first possession years ago, I hadn’t known what my intentions were entirely. Even now, those needs morphed and changed as time went by. The only thing I knew I didn’t want was a companion. A servant, yes—on both a household and a sexual level. Just not the intimacy that came along with a deeper relationship. Not with them.

  For my first human acquisition, I’d searched high and low before I came across one who checked most of the boxes. I should’ve known better than to settle for almost. Our time together lasted all of a week. Because he had falsified his intentions during our initial meetings, unable to master the strict obedience I desired, I’d grown tired of his whining, releasing him during his probationary period.

  The second lasted almost three weeks. On paper he had appeared to be what I was looking for, but reality had proven otherwise. He’d been a little too rigid for my tastes, too formal. Almost as though he lacked the humanity he should’ve been born with. If I wanted to fuck a robot, I would buy a fucking robot. I severed ties with him and we went our separate ways. No harm, no foul.

  It was then I decided my options were too limited. It wasn’t like I could go to a club and pick out someone whose needs mirrored my own. Not without investing a tremendous amount of time, something I’d never really had much of. Not even a fetish club could provide that sort of intimate detail on a member. When some searches on the internet revealed nothing to gain through that route, either, I knew I had to come up with a way to cater to those with the same needs I had, because like it or not, I was not the only one.

  So, I opted to design a website—which, years later, would ultimately convert into an app—one that would allow both Owners and possessions to seek out one another. It was a way of bringing likeminded people together. Due to the strict guidelines I set up, it had taken some time to develop and perfect, and even now we were continuing to tweak the process, but a determined man could and would achieve his goal. No doubt I’d been determined.

  It had been during my initial testing of the site when I had come across Auberon, although he’d had a different name back then. I didn’t know what it was, didn’t want to know, just one of several hundred criteria I had worked into the program. For me personally, I’d opted to assign them a number during their probationary period, and once I acquired them, they were allowed to choose what they preferred to be called. Within reason, of course. Male Three, now known as Auberon, had proven himself over the years, his servitude nearly unparalleled. I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

  I heard the familiar click of heels on tile as I tucked my hands in my pockets once more, watching as the sky lightened, the sun preparing for its ascent. It was interesting, really, that I would have an office in such a big city when I detested city life. Then again, I had offices across the US and a few in Europe, although I spent a large majority of my time on Sapphire Island.

  “You summoned,” Tiegan said with a hint of amusement.

  While my possessions took care of me on a personal level, Tiegan Shaw handled everything on the business front. She didn’t do it alone, of course. She had the help of others, but she was my executive assistant, and she managed things according to my instruction.

  I glanced over, gave her a quick perusal from head to toe. Today Tiegan looked the part of the professional female, a role she pulled off with ease. While she did nothing for me on a sexual level, she was the epitome of sinful sexuality. Her black knee-length A-line skirt showed off her curvy ass and narrow hips, while an emerald-green blouse gave a glimpse of her ample cleavage and shimmered in the overhead lights. As was par for the course, a pair of Jimmy Choos added five inches to her meager five-foot-two-inch stature. Her plum-colored hair was pulled back from her face in a ridiculous bun, her green eyes accentuated by black liner that had been perfectly applied.

  “I need you to do something for me.”

  “Business or pleasure?” she asked.

  “I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “A little of both, perhaps.”

  She didn’t respond, but I knew she was listening.

  “I’ll be relocating Ransom Bishop and his sister, Braelyn, to Sapphire Island.”

  “For how long?”

  “Indefinitely.”

  Although Ransom hadn’t specified as much, I’d already come up with a plan that would ensure both could reside on the island for as long as necessary, forever if they were so inclined. If it went according to plan, neither of them would be eager to leave.

  I went on to give Tiegan the details as I knew them. I was only equipped with the basics, but I figured it was enough. I could tell she was both impressed and amused at my knowledge considering my far too brief interaction with Miss Bishop.

  “I need this to appear as though it’s her decision,” I explained.

  “Understood. Do I have a timeline to work with?”

  “I expect her and Ransom on the plane with us tomorrow evening.”

  “I’ll get it taken care of.”

  “Do understand this is nonnegotiable for Miss Bishop. If you’re unable to persuade her, we’ll make some concessions.”

  “I think I can handle it, Talon.”

  I glanced over, nodded curtly. “I have faith you will.”

  She replied with a smile, one that promised I would be impressed with her methods. Just as I always was.

  As soon as Tiegan left my office, I pulled out my cell phone, dialed “1”, and waited for the gruff, raspy voice to answer.

  “It’s early,” Zion Sisk stated by way of greeting.

  “It is. And you’ve been up for two hours, I’m sure.”

  The hoarse chuckle on the other end was confirmation. “What can I do for you, boss?”

  I went on to explain Ransom’s current predicament, along with his request as well as my suggestion regarding tying up loose ends here in Chicago.

  “He’ll need help,” I informed Zion.

  “And that’s you giving me an order?”

  I chuckled. “You know me too well.”

  “I’m on it, boss.”

  “Keep me updated.”

  The call ended and my desk phone beeped.

  Seven o’clock. Time for my next meeting.

  I got the feeling it was going to be a long day.

  THREE

  Braelyn

  I was late again.

  A solid hour this time, and I knew it was going to be the last time I strolled into this building. I’d seen it on my boss’s face when he stepped out of his office to observe my approach. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t my fault, but we both knew better. While I hadn’t overslept or purposely disregarded my duties, I did have personal reasons for my tardiness. Personal reasons that had begun to affect my ability to do my job. And to live my life, in fact.

  Today’s interruption to my routine: Ransom was late in picking me up to drive me to work, something he’d started insisting on doing for the past year. This morning he’d been acting fishy, claiming he had been taking care of something while, at the same time, continuously peering in the rearview mirror like we were being followed. When he wouldn’t be straight with me, I told him next time I was going to call an Uber. He hadn’t been happy about that.

  So here I was, doing what little I could while sitting in my nothing-fancy cubicle, watching the clock, counting down the seconds until it was all over. I was surprised my boss hadn’t—

  Although I’d been expecting it, the ringing of my desk phone had me flinching, my hand trembling only slightly as I reached to pick up the receiver.

  There
was no reason for pleasantries, because I could see who it was. The extension on the screen belonged to my boss, and this wasn’t the sort of call where he was checking in to see how I was doing or wondering if I’d be able to get out of here early like everyone else gearing up for New Year’s.

  Nope. I couldn’t get that lucky.

  “Hello?”

  “Braelyn, I need to see you in my office, please.”

  “Of course, sir,” I said politely although I recognized his tone. The conversation that would follow wasn’t going to be the least bit polite.

  Glancing at my computer screen one final time, I noted that my inbox was empty. The out-of-office notification was already written, directing anyone messaging me to go to one of the appropriate department heads for assistance. The only thing I had to do was click the box to turn it on. Question was, did I do it now? Or should I wait until this meeting was over?

  Now, I decided, tapping the mouse button, the little check mark assuring me the out-of-office was active. I closed everything else down, took a deep breath, and pushed to my feet. Unwilling to show fear, I schooled my expression, smoothed the front of my cashmere sweater, then my skirt, and exhaled.

  I got the feeling this was what it felt like to walk the plank. You know, that moment when you’ve been sentenced to some untimely fate, whether it was by your own doing or not. Despite the fact I knew there were murky, dark waters awaiting me on the other end, I managed to put one foot in front of the other, making my way through the open room, ignoring the disparaging eyes of my coworkers as they peeked out of their cubicles to watch me. I wasn’t the only one who’d been expecting this.

  Swallowing hard, I knocked lightly on the closed door before opening it and stepping inside.

  “Please have a seat,” Jackson Marigold, known casually to his employees as Jack, said, his tone cool as ever despite the tight line of his mouth.

  I didn’t want to sit, but what else was I going to do?

  When I got situated, I lifted my gaze to meet Jack’s, grateful he’d opted to forego the festive New Year’s outfit he was known to sport. I couldn’t imagine doing this with him wearing those silly glasses or having his hair painted blue like last year. Was that because of me? Was he not enjoying his favorite holiday of the year—as he often told people—just because he had to fire me?