“What the f**k are you doing, Veronica? I’ve called and texted repeatedly, and you’ve ignored them all. When I gave you this job I told you you’re on call.”

He’s got me by the wrists, and he’s squeezing kind of hard. “Spencer, goddammit, you’re hurting me, let go.” I struggle against him. He squeezes even harder, then lets go and pulls me into his chest. He wraps his arms around me. I can’t help myself, I give in.

It’s starting to rain now and we’re both getting wet. The drops are dripping down his face and for once he’s got his sunglasses off and I can see his gray eyes as they crinkle with anger.

He starts walking, forcing me to step backwards, stumbling a little as I go.

“Spencer, what the f**k are you doing? You’re gonna make me fall!”

He doesn’t let up, though. He keeps pushing and I keep stumbling backwards, his eyes still angry with me as I slam back against the brick wall of the building. He leans in close, his lips come towards my mouth and for a moment I fantasize that he’ll kiss me.

But he never kisses me anymore. And he doesn’t now.

“I’m only telling you once,” he says with a snarl. “You do what I say, Veronica. When I tell you something, you do it. When I send you a text, you answer it.” He stares hard into my eyes and his flash with anger, darting back and forth, making sure that I’m listening.

His chest is pressing hard against mine, forcing me back against the uneven brick wall. Anger consumes me. How dare he? How dare he burst into my day and start making these demands like he owns me. It’s my turn to squint my eyes and look him dead on, the heat of my anger taking over.

“Spencer Shrike, I might work for you but I’m not your property. And if you think that paying me a salary means you get to order me around like you’re the boss, you’ve got another think coming. And maybe, just maybe, I don’t need your f**king job. So if you think I’m going to put up with your—”

His lips crush against mine and my knees just give out. I’m weak. Whenever he touches me I am so, so weak. The heat flushes through my body and I know if I looked in the mirror I’d be red all over. His tongue presses against mine. Searching, probing, looking for everything he just demanded—and I respond. Goddammit, I respond, giving him exactly what he wants. His hands come up and cup the side of my head, threading his fingers through my hair and around the back of my neck. He pulls me up towards his face, making me stand on my tiptoes to try to keep the connection between our mouths. I want to touch him back, thread my fingers through his hair and make him as crazy as he’s making me, but I can’t even think straight while he’s kissing me like this. When we come up for air, a fingertip traces along my jaw and the tip of my chin.

“Veronica,” he whispers. “I am the motherfucking boss.” His hand slips between my legs and his fingers find my sweet spot through my jeans. Goddamn, this f**king man knows everything about me. He presses against my clit and then releases, making me moan. “Say it back to me, Bombshell. Who’s the motherfucking boss?”

I whine out a no, but he just palms my whole pu**y and leans in, whispering in my ear. “Say it, Bomb. Or I’ll take you right here in the f**king alley and prove it.”

Oh, God, is that a promise?

“Why?” I whisper back. “Why do you do this to me?” Suddenly my emotions take over and it all becomes too much. I’ve known this man years, I’ve slept with him hundreds of times at least. His paintbrush has caressed the most intimate places on my body. I fell in love with him the first day we met. There is no man on this earth I want more than Spencer Shrike.

But…

“I can’t do this anymore, Spencer. You’re killing me. Every day you play these games with me, you’re killing me. I can’t take it anymore. I quit. I quit this stupid f**king job and I quit this stupid nonexistent relationship.”

His fingers fist in my hair, yanking hard enough to make me moan. He closes his eyes and looks down for a moment, letting out a long breath of air. And it’s only then that we realize it’s starting to rain hard. He grabs my hand and starts leading me up the stairs under the overhang of the building’s back door. He’s still holding my hand when we finally find shelter from the rain in the empty alcove. I try to pull it away, but he holds tight.

“Please,” I beg. “Please, stop torturing me.” I want this man so bad it makes my heart ache inside my chest.

“Bombshell, it’s more torturous for me than you will ever know.”

“I don’t understand you, Spencer. I don’t understand. If you want me, just take me. I get it, you’re guilty.” He looks down when I say the word, but I’m tired of pretending that he didn’t admit to me last week that he was a killer. “Spencer, look at me.” I place my hand against his heart and push a little so that he sways backwards. “Why is it that Ronin trusts Rook, and hell, even Ford trusts Ashleigh, and they get to know all the secrets, but me, even though I’ve known you guys the longest, I get trusted with shit? I get nothing from you, Spencer. I’m no one to you. Why?”

His eyes search mine again, only now they look… pained. Why is he so confusing? “Because, baby, I love you enough to push you away.”

The tears well up as the words come out and I sniff as I wipe them away. “Well, you’re doing a really good job, because I am f**king out of here.” I go to push past him, but he swings me back around and presses me against the wall.