Page 4 of Cocky Fiancé


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I shrugged my shoulders, indifferently. “She loves her job.”

Slate rolled his eyes. “Please. You love your job, and you should. You’ve created a multi-million-dollar empire on what women wear under their clothes. There’s a lot of guys who would envy your position,” he joked. But it was true, I was constantly surrounded by scantily-clad beautiful women.

“But why does she love it?” he asked, shaking his head. “This isn’t her baby. She needs a date is all I’m saying.”

I paused, considering the words playing on my tongue. “She has an invitation, to his wedding,” I finally announced.

After the hurt Roman had caused her, they would kill him if given a chance. Yet, although Britta was left broken-hearted, she still accepted gracious defeat in the hope of being the better person. And that was precisely the issue. She was too nice. And now the fucker thought he could rub it in. The bastard was getting married to the same bitch he’d had an affair with. His eyes had always wandered. He was constantly looking for the next best thing and missing the one girl who was worth a thousand of the ones he’d ogled.

That was the type of scum he was.

And that was why Britta’s brothers deserved to know. He didn’t deserve her, not from the start.

Britta was a walking sex pistol. And that was coming from a man who worked day and often nights with women parading around in lingerie. But she... she could be fully clothed among the various states of nudity, and still be the hottest woman in the room.

But her brothers weren’t to know that.

I looked back at Slate. He was angry and rightfully so.

“No. Fucking. Way,” he said, both shocked and appalled.

“He sent her flowers, too,” I added, and it was all I needed to say for him to stand, walk off and slam the door behind him without so much as a farewell. I figured it was better him than me. Having Britta on the wrong side was not ideal in many ways. She was an asset to the team, and an asset to my cock if the right time ever came. And I was counting on it. Sooner rather than later.

The clock on the wall barely ticked past a heartbeat before my door flew open.

Britta stood in the doorway, heels and legs for days, her hands on her hips, rage flying from her pretty eyes.

“Why did you tell him?” she demanded. “You know he’s going to tell them all now, and I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

I shrugged my shoulders and proceeded to pull out the files we needed for the upcoming meeting. This seemed to annoy her even more, and I swear I heard a little huff.

She fucking huffed, and it took all my might not to smirk.

Britta could be sexy and cute, all wrapped up in one dangerous little bundle.

“You ready?” I asked, hoping to deter her.

“That’s all?” Her perfect brows shot up in admonishment.

“I’m not here to discuss your love life, Britta.”

I said that, but I would love nothing more than to tell her who she could and could not date. And in my opinion, that would be no one.

“You mean you’re not here to discuss it with me, but you will my brother?”

I met her head on, my face blank. “Yes.”

Her nose scrunched slightly without her even knowing. “My brother keeps telling me to date,” she started, unable to disguise her displeasure. “But if men are anything like you two I’d lose my mind.”

She started to walk back out the door and my mouth stopped her. “So, you’d rather men like Roman?”

Britta paused, her back to me, shoulders stiff. I’d hit a nerve and I was a prick for saying it.

“I suppose if you’ve never been in love before, you wouldn’t know what it’s like.”

“Oh!” This time I smirked. “I thought you did love me, babe.”

This time she turned, anger long since faded, her cheeks reddened with embarrassment, a small smile playing on her lips. “It was in the heat of the moment, and those words slipped out,” she said, referring to the phone call.

“Well, at least one of us sounds convinced,” I challenged, watching the red deepen. It gave me a sick form of pleasure watching her squirm under my gaze. And she did just that, unsure whether to meet my penetrative eyes or continue her path back to her office.

“Meeting, Britta...” I finally said, reluctantly cutting the sexual tension between us.

She gave a small nod, cleared her throat and walked her fine ass down the hall, albeit a little unsteady.“AND THEN SHE GOT DOWN on her knees, creamy white tits in full view, and showed me just how appreciative she was...” The jackass sitting across from us laughed, his flat palm slapping the table at his own sick humor. “If only all women could be like that.”

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