Coming Undone (7 page)

RJ nodded, swallowing the bitter taste the thought of Salim touching McKenna evoked. “I’ll get the stuff then, bring it by later.” He walked away from her, every step heavy as he let himself out through the back door.

****

One of the cameras went into the clock on Salim’s mantel right in the middle of the living room. McKenna had done the job with shaky fingers, looking over her shoulder with every breath.

She’d dined with Salim, had an expensive dinner she barely tasted, and then they’d come back to his penthouse where he proceeded to lock himself in his office with a few strange men. Normally she’d have given him the doe eyes and fake pout for leaving her alone, but now she had work to do.

With the clock set up, she went into the kitchen and stuck the camera made to look like a small magnet to the fridge. Ren had told her all she had to do was place them. His brother would turn them on and monitor from wherever he was.

Which meant they’d see her. Hear everything that went on. She didn’t put a camera in the bedroom. RJ didn’t have to see them in action to know she’d be fucking Salim. That was the reason he hadn’t touched her, she knew. The reason he didn’t make the move even though she saw it on his face. She saw how much her touching his scarred face affected him.

He’d wanted to do more, and she’d wanted him to, but in the end he’d stepped back. Pulled away
from her. She should be happy, right? She couldn’t be with Salim and RJ, not like she was at the moment. Maybe once she was rid of Salim, RJ might make a move.

Maybe.

She couldn’t let that stop her from doing what she had to do to get out from under Salim’s gun. He needed to be taken care of. That was most important.

She had one last place to bug, Salim’s office. She rolled the black pen around in her palm. RJ said there was a built-in camera. She didn’t look to be sure. She’d take his word on it. Now her task was finding a way into the office, and she needed a damn good excuse.

Back in the bedroom, she stripped down to her underwear, a pink lace demi-cup bra with matching thong, then climbed into the middle of the massive bed. Pulling the cream-colored sheets up to her hips, she rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillows.

Salim liked his extravagances, and the bed was one of them, the most comfortable thing she’d lain on in her life. Plush yet firm, molding to her and eliciting a sigh from her lips. Her muscles fought to relax, her body wanting to sink into the mattress, but she wouldn’t allow it. She kept on her guard, ears strained to every sound. The last thing she wanted was to be caught sleeping on Salim Najal.

She moved her legs restlessly against the sheets. Ren stayed on her mind, the very last place he was supposed to be. The way he looked at her, like he couldn’t decide whether to haul her into his arms or hide her away from him and Salim. Clearly he couldn’t get past her sleeping with Salim, being at his beck and call. McKenna couldn’t blame him. If their positions were reversed, she’d be demanding changes.

Ren didn’t seem the type. He wouldn’t trespass, not unless pushed, and she couldn’t do that. She’d never been with two men at once, never cheated on a lover. Not that she’d had lovers. She’d had marks, but even then, they’d had her full attention. Salim paid her good money for the use of her body, but she didn’t fool herself into thinking she was the winner in their little arrangement.

No, Salim held all the cards.

Until
now. Until Ren. The quiet, scarred Ren would definitely throw a wrench into Salim’s plans. All McKenna had to do was plant the cameras, sit back, and watch it all unfold. Ren wanted answers and McKenna wanted out from under Salim, literally and figuratively. She gave him use of her body because she had no other recourse. Now Ren had planted the idea that she might have choices.

Maybe she should grasp that, embrace that. Ren offered freedom and she just might accept.

“McKenna darling.” Salim’s voice boomed over the intercom system, startling her.

She jerked upright and answered him by pressing the button in the wall over the headboard. “Yes, love?” There were times when the act was easier than others. Today was a hard
day. She couldn’t pretend to be in love with Salim when Ren’s voice still reverberated in her ear. When his scent still lingered in her nose.

“Join me in my office, would you?” His voice was so soft and amiable, but she knew enough to know it covered more harsh sentiments.

Here was the chance to place the camera in his office. “Sure, let me put some clothes on.” She scrambled off the bed, making sure to grab the pen from under the pillow, then staggered to a stop when he spoke again.

“No, no. That’s quite all right.” A smirk echoed through the static. “I’m sure my company would appreciate the reprieve from having to watch you undress.”

Fuck.

“Although, gentlemen, let me tell you. It’s a perfect sight, watching her undress.” He cackled. “A fucking finer art I haven’t seen.”

McKenna tightened the sheets around her with slippery palms. Her heart banged in fear. She didn’t know what awaited her in that office, but she knew it wouldn’t be nice. She wouldn’t like it. Each time Salim shared her, he took a piece of her. The shame chipped away at something inside her, slowly and surely.

The urge to say no burned her tongue. She’d always had the option to say no at anytime, but saying no damned her mother. Saying no would bring more pain, more grief, so she sucked it up each and every time.

Like now.

She tucked the black pen between her breasts and flipped her hair off her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, swallowing frantically to wet her dry throat, she walked out of the bedroom and over to Salim’s office. She opened the door without knocking. After all, she had been invited.

Salim sat at his desk, his white shirt unbuttoned at the throat, his chest hair on display. He sat back with a small smile, eyes undressing her, fingers touching his chin as he rested an elbow on the table. Laid back, like he had no cares, no problems. If McKenna were someone else, anyone else, she’d have already smothered him in his sleep.

She wasn’t a killer so she let her eyelids drop, parted her lips, and thrust out her chest. A
show. Her job was to put on a show. She was nothing if not a trained performer.

The door clicked behind her, and she looked over at the other men in the room with a coy smile. Three men sat opposite Salim, all in business suits, two Caucasians, one clean shaven in his mid to late thirties with short blond hair, the other dark haired and older—late forties—with a full beard and a bunch of wrinkles to tell his age. Their third companion was maybe Chinese, with black hair falling into eyes framed by round wire-rimmed glasses.

All three gaped at her while Salim smiled in that smug, creepy way he’d perfected.

“What did I tell you, gentlemen?” Salim clapped his hands. “Get rid of the sheet, love.” He rose from his chair and walked around his desk, stopping in front of her, his ass on the edge of the desk.

She had to put the camera somewhere where he wouldn’t notice. She held Salim’s gaze as she ran through the entire office in her mind. Given the activities she knew for sure were about to transpire, there wouldn’t be any other choice but to place it somewhere close by.

Grasping the ends of the sheet in both hands, McKenna made sure to hold on to the pen as she opened the material and let it drop.

Slowly.

Someone’s breath hitched.

Salim’s grin kicked up a notch. “Such a tease, my love.” He crooked a finger and parted his thighs. “Come, let’s give my guests a show. Put those cock-sucking lips of yours to use.”

McKenna trembled under the fierce need to refuse. It bit at her relentlessly. She curled her
fingers. Her nails and the pen she held bit into her skin. The pen. She had to plant it.

A second thought tripped over that first one. Ren would see this. He’d see how Salim controlled her, how he used her, and he’d know for sure she was soiled
goods. No one good enough to mess with, to care for.

Despair hunched her shoulders and must have shown in her eyes because Salim’s grin fell away.

“Don’t make me wait, love.”

McKenna forced her limbs to move forward, to go to him. She kept her gaze on him, stared him dead in the eye. The other occupants of the office fell away. They weren’t relevant, not in the larger scheme. Inches from Salim, she dropped to her knees, letting the last length of the sheet drop completely as well. Right before her knees hit the floor, she reached up and grasped the edge of the desk with her right hand, the one that held the pen. She opened her palm and let it drop just as she cupped Salim’s crotch with her other hand.

The pen was in place, even there in the open on Salim’s desk. Maybe later she could get him distracted enough to slip it into the silver pen-holder sitting inches away. Right now though, she freed Salim’s cock from his pants with shaking fingers and did her best to forget Ren would be watching as she performed on command.

Chapter Six

After she performed to a full house, Salim rewarded her with a pat on the head and hustled her out to the car where the bodyguards drove her home. McKenna sat in the back seat, staring at the large snowflakes hitting the window. Her jaw hurt, her knees were scraped, and Salim’s taste still clung to her
tongue. No matter how she spat, how much mouthwash she’d swished, it wouldn’t go away.

The men had sat quietly watching while Salim grunted and commented on her skill, her prowess.

Tears burned her eyes. This wasn’t the first time, so why was she feeling this way now? Compared to other times, this one was tame. Nothing at all. Usually he’d have her service someone else, a stranger, while he watched. Why was she falling apart at a simple blowjob witnessed by three strangers?

Because there would be at least a fourth person watching and he was no stranger. Ren would have definite proof of what she was. A whore.

A sob burst from her throat, but McKenna covered it with her palm, smothering the sound. No weakness. Not in front of Salim or, in this case, his men. No, Ren would be the one privy to her weakness. She didn’t give two fucks that his brother would also see her. She didn’t know the man, didn’t care about his opinion of her. Only Ren had the power to make her feel less than. Something Salim had worked his ass off to achieve with little progress. She could still hold her head up, still meet Salim’s gaze without flinching.

Deep in her gut, under her skin, McKenna knew she wouldn’t be able to say the same where Ren was concerned.

The driver pulled up in front of her house and got out to help her. She took his hand, grabbing him tightly when she almost lost her footing on the snow-slicked ground. They went through the routine of him escorting her to her door, opening it, and stepping inside to check things out before he nodded to her and left her there.

Inside the warmth of her house, McKenna threw off her coat and gloves, scarf too. She ensured the door was locked then made her way outside into the backyard already blanketed with snow.

She needed to think, needed to breathe, so she sat down on the rickety swing, creaking with every breath she took. The cold metal seared through the material of her jeans and chilled her butt. She kicked off gently, rocking back and forth as snow fell all around her, quiet. Reverent. The cold numbed her fingers and her nose, hell, her toes too, but McKenna didn’t move.

Maybe she couldn’t.

Dusk gave way to the night and the moon appeared, glowing down on her like a spotlight. Or maybe a microscope. Her eyes and sinuses burned, but she didn’t bother checking her numb face to see if the tears pilled over. It didn’t matter. Her needs and wants didn’t matter. Not anymore. She had to make sure her mother was okay. Despite her shitty childhood, McKenna could always count on her mother, her presence, her warmth, her love. Regardless of their lifestyle, she'd never doubted her mother’s love. Never doubted that when push came to shove, she’d always have someone around who loved her.

She didn’t need anything else but that.

Now all her security was gone, blown to bits with a few careless words. Her mother had grown attached to the mark. She’d allowed emotions to play a role in her decision making, something she’d warned McKenna against countless times, and now they’d both been sentenced to a life of confinement. The technicalities of how and why didn’t matter.

Location didn’t matter.

She’d always led a solitary life, but now more than ever, McKenna wished she’d taken the time to make some friends. She’d have people to talk to, to share her burdens with. But she hadn’t, and now she didn’t. Besides, no one could help dig her out of the grave she’d thrown herself into. Ren didn’t count. She wanted him for more than just a hand out of a sticky situation.

What did she even know about him? Nothing. His name, if it was his name, didn’t help. He was trying to do something good, help someone out. What had she done to help anyone lately?

“McKenna.”

She might have moved at the sound of her name, McKenna couldn’t be sure. The frigid cold had seeped into her pores, slowing everything down. Ren’s voice echoed in her head. Had she dreamt that?

She lifted her head, turned to the right, and he was there, striding toward her in long steps.