Chapter 9 Again

~ Anyssa's Pov ~

I made one promise to myself before coming to New York: to mind my business—or in this case, keep to myself, and finish this internship. But, you see, it’s been hard when my father’s best friend decides to make my life a living hell. He indirectly calls me daft, if not to my face. I know he doesn’t want me here. I don’t even want to be here!

Last week, I got to the office late and, of course, he pissed the boss off, so he decided to punish me. He humiliated me, called me lazy, and threatened to fire me. What a rude man. Seriously, Ronan King is infuriating at best. The man’s a bully, and I don’t know how his colleagues love him.

They rain praises on him, saying he’s one of the best bosses. But I shouldn’t be surprised; he is the Alpha of New York City, and they are bound to show loyalty. Today was terrible. I misplaced some documents I was supposed to send through email, and he went ballistic. The man actually shouted at me and sent me out of his office.

God, I hate this job. Sometimes I wonder what I’m even doing here. Why do I still try even after all these humiliations? Why do I keep quiet and work for a man I despise with everything in me? I decided to unwind with a night at the bar. Drinking has been a habit I have cultivated, which I’m not proud of.

I’m not a drunk. I just drink when I need to clear my head. I gestured to the hot bartender as he walked to where I sat. My hands on the counter, I tapped my nails as I ogled his bare chest while he poured another glass of bourbon for me.

I trailed my eyes down his frame. He had nothing on except a pair of washed blue jeans hanging low on his waist. His arms were decorated with black hand bands, some with skulls on them. His hair, reaching his ears, looked a bit ruffled. His eyes were a deep shade of brown. He was hot, you know... like the definition of the guys you'd want to fuck or have take you down the corridor in your dorm?

“Is it possible to have a name along with that glass?” I flirted, and he chuckled.

“You’re bad at flirting.” His voice was thick with a rich Australian accent. God, he sounded like a celebrity who graduated from Oxford.

“I try my best. So, what are you saying? Your name?”

He dropped the bottle, crossing his arms across his chest. “Jeremy.”

“What a sexy name... Jeremy. When do you usually close from work?”

“Are you flirting to fuck with me?”

“Would that be a bad idea?” I smirked, and he smiled. Dude really went along with it, and honestly, this was the best thing that’s happened to me today.

“My shift ends around 11:30. What’s your name, pretty?”

“Nyssa.”

“Nyssa,” he recited, as if trying to memorize the word. My insides throbbed, especially my core. God, I need him.

“You’re drunk though. And you suck at flirting.”

“Wanna know what else I can suck?” I blurted. He eyed me slowly, a grin spreading across his dashing face.

“Another glass?”

“Yes—”

“No.” I turned toward the voice and noticed Ronan standing behind me. His eyes were bloodshot red and full of anger as he stared daggers at Jeremy. What is he even doing here?

“That’s enough drinking.” He walked closer to me, standing above me with both his hands in his pockets. “Let’s go.”

“Who are you?” Jeremy asked.

“None of your business. And why are you letting her drink? Don’t you see she’s underage?”

Oh... he didn’t just do that!

“That’s bullshit, don’t believe him!”

Jeremy looked between the both of us, confusion laced on his face as he strained his eyes, studying me carefully.

“Were you really going to take her back to your place? Unbelievable.”

“It wasn’t like that, I promise! She looked older, dude!”

Ronan’s eyes studied him, and I could see Jeremy was scared out of his pants. Sorry for him, though. He whimpered like a little boy, picked up the shot glass, and walked away.

“Happy now?”

“Elated. Let’s go,” he commanded, voice thick with opposition.

I got up with a groan and walked out of the bar. He didn’t have to do that, but he wouldn’t care that he just humiliated me there by claiming I was a minor.

“Get in,” he said behind me. His car was parked in front of the bar.

“Stalking me now?”

“Get in, Nyssa.”

“No! You tell me how you found out I was here. And don’t you think that stunt you pulled was fine by me?”

“What are you doing out here at this time?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

He sighed, holding the bridge of his nose. “Just… get in, Nyssa. Or I’ll do it myself.”

Damn him. I reluctantly dragged myself to the back seat of the car. My eyes landed on the driver, who didn’t even care what was going on, keeping his eyes on the road. I pushed myself into the car with Ronan following behind me.

We bumped into each other, and before I knew it, I had fallen onto his lap. He froze, his hands resting on either side of him. It felt like the world had stopped as we both stared at each other. I could feel his… uhm… underneath me.

“Where to, sir?” the driver's voice resounded in the car, snapping both of us back to reality.

“Ms. Nyssa's condo,” Ronan said. His voice was rough, as if something was caught in his throat.

“I-I'm sorry.” I shifted but only brushed further against him. I could feel it twitch and swell underneath him.

“I’m sorry! That was a… mistake.” I could feel the words burning in my mouth but was too scared to say them out loud. How big was he down there? Did he think I did that intentionally?

“I’m sorry,” I sa

id again. It seemed like the only reasonable thing to do.

“Do it again,” he rasped, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite place.