The Six: Genesis | A Reverse Harem Novel

Twenty

"You're thinking too hard," Gatlin whispers in my ear.

I'm seething, barely able to gather a breath through my clenching teeth. How dare they! How. The. Fuck. Dare. They!

"I don't understand what the fuck they were thinking! They know fucking with my shit is a breach of contract and results in immediate termination."

"Yeah, but only if they get caught." Gatlin shrugs. "You hadn't caught them and they thought they could get away with it. Obviously, this is what happens when they fuck around and find out. Now, how do we fix it?"

"I don't know."

Blustering a breath, I turn away and stomp to the edge of the room. He watches as I pace, eyes clinging to the skin exposed between my shirt and pants. I'm angry, bordering on livid, and the code in my head is Greek to me. They'd done more damage than they thought, and the longer this code remains active, the more it changes.

I can't focus and I hate it.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't focus."

"I can see that. What do you need?"

Frustrated, I scream under my breath and throw up my hands. "A time machine? Then I can go back and stop this madness from happening, plus cancel this contract. That would give me a reason to make them all self-destruct."

Gatlin raised his eyebrow. "You can do that?"

"I can do lots of things, Gatlin." He pauses, still watching me for a few more seconds. A smirk lifts his mouth before he stands. I stop where I am, mid-stride, and study him. "What?"

Slowly, his eyes narrow. "I think I know what you need."

"What I need? What d—"

Roughly, he grabs my arm and drags me out of the conference room and out of the west wing. He tows me down the hall, making sure I can keep up with his quick steps. Confused, I follow behind him.

"Where are you taking me?"

He glances back. "You'll see."

And I do see. He takes me down two more empty hallways and turns left, heading down the corridor where our rooms lie. He passes his own and comes to mine, lifting my caught hand to activate the screen with the bracelet affixed to my wrist. When we enter, he traps me between him and the wall.

"Why are w—"

His mouth crashes into mine, effectively cutting off my question. Warm lips coax mine open and his tongue floods my mouth. He's tasting me—testing me—to see if I'll pull away, but I can't and won't.

I need this.

I need him.

Greedy, I latch my arms around his neck and pull him closer. Chest-to-chest, pelvis-to-pelvis, I leave nothing between us as I rub myself against him. His cock is hard and perfectly situated to press at the base of my stomach. Groaning, I squirm.

He deepens the kiss. The gentleness slips away, and in its place, unchecked hunger rises. Heavy hands trace my frame—touching everything—his hands squeeze and fondle, cupping my breasts and gripping my ass.

My mind blanks out and I'm floating in euphoria. This man can kiss. I can go on like this for hours, clinging to him like a second skin.

I want him inside of me. I want his cock stretching me past my limits. I want his hands where they shouldn't be. On my back, knees or up against the wall, Gatlin should be fucking me to an inch of sanity.

Carefully, his right drags upward, settling at my waistband. My breath snags and I lean back, but he follows. He keeps his mouth sealed to mine as his fingers drip inside of my pants.