Page 91 of His Reckoning

I’m suddenly very aware of how close he still is.

“You think sleeping with you will fix my writer’s block?”

“I think you already know it will.”

“That’s unbelievably conceited.”

Sawyer smiles faintly. “You’re already considering it.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

I push lightly against his chest. He steps back immediately.

The second he steps back, the room feels strangely cold.

“You’ll think about it,” he says.

“I don’t need to.”

“You might.”

He grabs his water from the counter, then starts toward the hallway.

Halfway there, he pauses. “If you decide you want the inspiration”—he glances back at me— “come find me.”

Then he disappears down the hall. Leaving me standing in front of the glass window with my heart racing and my laptop still sitting on the couch.

The hallway goes quiet after Sawyer disappears.

For a full three seconds, I just stand here, staring at the empty space where he was standing.

Then my brain finally catches up.

“Are you kidding me?”

The words bounce off the glass behind me.

I shove my hands through my hair and start pacing the living room.

Sex.

His solution to my writer’s block is sex.

Not even normal sex.

No, no.

An “agreement.”

Sawyer Maccini thinks he’s doing the world a public service by offering himself up like some kind of billionaire creativity supplement.

Irritation crackles through me immediately.

“That man is unbelievable.”

I grab my laptop from the couch and drop back onto the cushions harder than necessary.