Chapter 256: Controlling Holly

David’s POV

I reached out, fingers brushing her chin, tilting her face up to mine. Holly’s eyes were still hazy, lips parted, chest rising and falling fast. The second my thumb grazed her jaw, she arched into me again…like she couldn’t help it, like her body was starving for more even after I’d just wrecked her four times on that couch.

Goddamn insatiable woman.

I pulled away with a soft, controlled smile…the kind I’d practiced in mirrors for years. The one that said I’m in charge here.

Inside my head, though? I was grinning like a bastard.

It’s working.

Just one day…one single day…of giving in to this insanity, and it’s already working. She’s melting.

In no time, she’ll be so wrapped up in me she’ll do anything I ask. Spill every secret about Ava. Help me burn the Millers’ to the ground, so I can free my family from the hold the Jameson’s have over us.

Mission served hot, with Holly none the wiser until it’s too late.

Perfect.

I cleared my throat, stood up, and started pulling my clothes back on like nothing had happened. Pants zipped, shirt buttoned (best I could with the finger marks she left), tie straightened. Authoritarian voice locked and loaded.

“Holly,” I said, low and firm, the tone I used in board meetings when I wanted zero pushback. “Cut off whatever little games you’re playing with Tyler. Starting now. And from this moment on, you come when I call you. You’re where I want you, when I want you. At all times. Do you understand?”

She snorted while shimmying back into her skirt, not even looking at me. “Wow. One round of sex…okay, two and suddenly you think you own my life? Get your shit together, David. You’ll wait until I want you again. And right now?” She finally met my eyes, her smirk sharp enough to cut glass. “Even if you stripped naked and begged, I wouldn’t touch you. I’m done with you for the day.”

Then she cat-walked closer…hips swaying like she knew exactly what it did to me…leaned down, and let her lips brush the shell of my ear.

My eyes snapped shut on instinct, breath catching like a teenager waiting for his first kiss.

“You’ll wait,” she whispered, voice velvet and venom, “until I want you again.”

Jesus Christ, I almost said Yes, ma’am out loud.

I’m thirty-four. She’s what…twenty-six? And I almost saluted.

She pulled back with a smug little smile, grabbed my discarded coat off the floor, and slipped it on to cover her ruined shirt. The thing swallowed her, sleeves too long, collar up to her chin. She looked ridiculously cute and insanely hot at the same time.

“Oh, and David?” she added, pausing at the door like she’d just remembered something small.

I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not going home with you tonight for any ‘late work’ like you said earlier. I’m going home with Tyler. Gonna have a nice, relaxing night. See ya.”

She wiggled her fingers and strutted out like she was the damn President of the Sassy Bitches Club.

Who the fuck does she think she is?

My blood boiled in anger as my dick twitched in approval of her behavior. That was fucking hot. I hated her and wanted her again in the same breath.

I shook it off…hard…and started fixing the disaster zone that used to be my office. Papers scattered everywhere from when I’d swept everything off the desk in round one. I stacked them roughly, opened the big window behind my desk to let the evening air in even though the AC was blasting. Needed to clear the smell of sex and her perfume before someone walked in and got ideas.

I dropped into my chair, ran a hand through my hair, and stared at the ceiling.

Okay. Think.

I’m supposed to have her wrapped around my finger. That’s the plan. Seduce her, control her, use her to get to Ava. Simple.

So why does it feel like I haven’t even scratched the surface?

Should I go bigger? Public? Ask her out officially…flowers, dinner, the whole show? Make it look real enough that she falls hard, lets her guard down completely? Then I own her. Then she’s mine to steer straight into betraying her own blood.

Yeah. Maybe.

I grabbed my phone, thumbs moving before my brain caught up, and typed into Google… ‘How to make a girl fall head over heels in love with you so you can control her.’

The results popped up instantly, and I almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous it all was.

Top hits: “Be mysterious. Never reveal too much.” Great. I’m already brooding 24/7.

“Compliment her constantly but subtly.” Gag. I’d choke on the words.

“Cook her favorite meal barefoot in the kitchen while quoting poetry.” Who the hell has time for that?

“Send good morning/good night texts every day.” Shoot me instead.

Then the wild ones: “Mirror her body language to create subconscious bonding.” Sounds like creepy puppet shit.

“Use jealousy…flirt with other women in front of her.” That’s risky. Knowing Holly, she might just flirt back harder. And I’ll just end up jealous.

“Love bombing: shower her with gifts and attention until she’s addicted.” Expensive, but doable.

And then the straight-up insane: “Hypnosis audio tracks on YouTube…play them while she sleeps.”

“Bury a red candle with her name carved into it under a full moon.”

“Voodoo doll with a lock of her hair…pin the heart area daily.”

I snorted so loud I scared myself.

What the hell am I even doing looking up stuff like this?

I tossed the phone onto the desk like it burned me.

Through the blinds, movement caught my eye. Down in the open-plan floor, Holly was at her desk, packing her bag fast. Laptop slammed shut, purse grabbed like she was about to sprint out of the office.

It was about fifteen minutes to closing. Why the rush?

Tyler. Relaxing night. The words looped in my head like a taunt, burning me with jealousy.

I didn’t think. I just moved.

I was out the door and towards her cubicle a little too aggressively.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I blurted, louder than I meant. A few heads popped up over cubicles like prairie dogs.

Holly didn’t even flinch. She slung her bag over her shoulder, checked her phone, and shot me a sweet, fake-innocent smile.

“Um, check the group chat, boss. Mr. Norman organized a company dinner tonight. You didn’t get the memo?”

She was teasing. Full-on teasing.

I scratched the back of my head, suddenly feeling like the idiot in the room. “Right. Yeah. Of course.”

She stepped closer, voice dropping just enough for only me to hear. “I’m leaving earlier because I need to swing by a store first…pick up a new shirt. I’ve had three tops ruined today. It’s been a long, long day.”

The way she said it…slow, deliberate…had my brain flashing straight back to her bent over my desk, on the couch, screaming into my tie.

Blood rushed south so fast I almost swayed.

Then she added, all casual, “Can’t exactly show up wearing your jacket. People will talk. Gossip will start. Don’t want my boyfriend getting jealous, do we?”

Boyfriend.

The word hit like a slap.

Jealous? I was way past jealous. I was angry, possessive, and…God help me…hard again.

I took one step toward her, ready to…what? Drag her back into my office? Stake some claim in front of the entire office?

Didn’t matter.

She was already backing away toward the elevators, that wicked little smile still playing on her lips.

“See you at the dinner, boss,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll save you a seat. Right next to me,” She added with a wink.

Then, the elevator doors slid open. She stepped in, turned, and just before they closed: “Toodles.”

Gone.

I stood there frozen in the middle of the floor, people pretending not to stare, heart hammering like I’d run a marathon.

What the hell just happened?

Who has who wrapped around their finger?

Her?

Or me?