~ Naomi ~
Swallowing down a bad case of the nerves, I slowly make my way over until I’m standing beside Malcolm’s desk near his feet. A second later, he pounces on me, so fast I didn’t even see him stand up. I just blink, and then he’s towering over me, his immense size making me gasp. He’s always intimidating when he’s just sitting down at the bar, but now he’s just plain scary standing at least a foot taller than me with his linebacker shoulders blocking out the rest of the room. He’s so close I have to tilt my head backward to see his face. Malcolm takes a drag off his cigarette and blows the smoke out of the corner of his lips before reaching around me to put it out in the ashtray, which means the front of his body is pressed even tighter to mine. From the corner of my eye, I then see him reach down and pull something from his pocket or his belt, but I don’t know what it is until the sharp point of what can only be a knife is pressing into the center of my chest.
A yelp of surprise escapes me before I find my voice again. “Wh-what are you doing?” I ask him.
He lowers the point until it meets the top of my dress. Grabbing the material with his free hand, the other slices the blade through the fabric, cutting my dress straight down the middle with enough force that I feel the pressure, but it doesn’t leave a mark on my skin. All the tips I’ve stuffed inside earlier float down to the floor around our feet, causing Malcolm to growl angrily through his gritted teeth.
“Those are-are my tips,” I tell him as I slap my palms over my bare breasts, feeling way too exposed at the moment wearing only a pair of red panties.
“Sure they are,” is his stony reply. “No need to act shy now and cover yourself up. Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that you were rubbing your pussy on my dick like you wanted to ride it?”
“Y-yes,” I answer, remembering the embarrassing moment when he said he would never fuck me.
“So, what’s the matter? You changed your mind?”
“No.” I shake my head to confirm my answer. “No, sir.” Malcolm may be scary at the moment, but I still want him. I’ve wanted him since the second I saw him, even though I know I shouldn’t.
“We’ll see about that.”
Closing the knife on the edge of his desk beside my thigh, he thankfully slips it back into his belt holster. As soon as his hands are free, though, he spins me around and presses his large palm between my shoulder blades, roughly forcing my bare upper body down until the side of my face is flat against a stack of papers on his desk.
“There’s nothing I hate more than liars except for thieves,” he mutters. Crap. He knows! “Do you have any idea how furious I am with you?” Keeping one strong hand on the center of my back, the other comes up over my hip, giving my panties a tug when he starts to peel them down my legs.
I shake my head no as much as I can because I’m incapable of speaking now that he has me naked and bent over the desk like he’s not planning on letting me up anytime soon. I don’t know if he’s going to whip me or kill me or fuck me for stealing from him.
He said a few weeks ago that he would never fuck me; but he put the knife away, so I think I can probably cross kill me off the list. Maybe. Hopefully.
“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” I cave and ask.
Placing his lips against my ear, his teeth nip at the cuff before he whispers, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”