Power Play Read Online Free

top of another house. Each of those is called a floor.”
    I punched him in the shoulder. I’d had more success moving cement walls. Though touching those cement walls didn't make me want to throw my whole body at them.
    He chuckled, landed a hand on my back and pressed me onward.
    “Alright,” he said. “What’s there to say? Our company has the top floors rented out at several hotels in every class alpha city on the planet. We treat employees right here.”
    “We’re going to the penthouse?” I said.
    “ I’m going to the penthouse. Where you land is entirely up to you.”
    He pressed the elevator button. The doors chimed open before us immediately, revealing an empty car, cause of course they would. Tonight wasn’t even real anymore. One minute I was heading home to my cat and my best friend, and now I was going to be the highest geographical feature outside of downtown.
    Deacon pressed me in, his hand falling to the small of my back. Ok, that touch was very much real. Unless, I put a stop to it, I’d be feeling that a lot more.
    That and other things. It'd been more than a year, but my body knew this routine deep down. My jeans suddenly felt very hot. I shifted my legs, but that only seemed to open up a new ache.
    Deacon pressed the top button. The doors shut and we rocketed up. I waited for his move, but he stood still, only glancing admiringly up and down my body.
    He wouldn't cross that gap. I was safe enough if I kept my cool.
    But he was doing his best to make me dizzy. His lips were curled up just slightly. His tongue flicked out and wet them.
    Oh god, I could not go up to the penthouse. I wasn’t even sure I could last this ride.
    I reached for the lower floor button, but he grabbed my wrist.
    “Just come check out the view first,” he said. “Then see if you want to leave.”
    I swallowed. “There’s nothing to see out here,” I said with an airless voice. “We’re miles from downtown.
    His fingers traced their way off my palm. “I didn’t say you’d have to look outside.”
    Uh oh. The last of my brain shriveled into a dot.
    The doors opened and a soothing subway voice read out, “Penthouse level.”
    The room in front of me was two stories tall. We had come out into some cross between the kitchen and dining room. There was a glass and metal table held away from steel cabinets and a fridge by a gleaming island stove. Round white lights above cast a gentle glow on everything.
    Deacon grabbed my bag and turned in.
    “Hey,” I followed him to a vast living room with walls of glass like the airport itself. Black leather sofas sat at sharp angles from each other without a TV in sight.
    “What?” he said, glancing back as he went on into a hallway that led off to darker rooms.
    I stayed planted outside.
    “Where you taking my bag?” I yelled.
    “Somewhere more comfortable,” his voice rang out.
    “It’s supposed to head downstairs.”
    He grew back from the shadows, unbuttoning his grey shirt. His chest showed clearly through the white fabric underneath. It clung to every bulge and crack of his toned abs and pecs.
    He walked right up to me, his face dark and hungry. “Come on, now,” he said. “We both know that’s not true.”
    Then, his hand was cupping my chin, his lips pressing toward me. I had the barest sense to jerk my head back. I couldn’t escape his grip, but he stopped.
    “Still not listening, I see.”
    It was my every fear – a man whose words demanded obedience. And yet my legs felt wider. What sort of a man who could make me forget my promises to myself?
    “Who the hell are you?” I asked.
    He nudged in closer, his breath becoming the same as mine, a hot musky odor that left no room for thought. “I’m the man who’s going to fuck you, darlin',” he said. “Good enough?”
    His lips glistened, barely in my vision. I had to yield. I had to accept to taste them.
    And I wanted them. I wanted everything.
    “Ok,” I whispered, and tipped my chin up to