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“I’m handling it,” I growl with a whisper, rage welling up inside of me. I can’t believe that, after what he did to me, Ben had the cheek to show up uninvited into my life just to blackmail me.
“Oh, I know you’re handling it. I remember how you handled things… like my cock. Remember that, Athena? Give Malcolm the same treatment and I’m sure your company will be safe.”
“I fucking hate you, Ben.” Without waiting for his reply, I end the connection and throw the phone back into my purse. See what I told you? First you love them, and then they crush you and reveal their true selves.
I just hope Malcolm’s different…
Oh, what am I saying? That doesn’t matter the slightest. Whether I like him or not, my business depends on Malcolm falling for me.
I need to make him love me—and I need to do it fast.
9
Malcolm
I've never wished for a magic pause button in life … until now. Being with Athena Hawke was like free falling through space at five hundred miles an hour, with the air getting knocked out of my fucking lungs.
It was exhilarating, and I've never felt so alive. I never thought that feeling was possible, without being strapped to a rocket. It was a sense of euphoria better than any drug, and everyone else in the room just melted away.
I'd like to freeze that moment, and hold it a little longer. Smile at its perfection. Gaze at it.
I don't even know what I'm fucking saying. It's like I hardly recognize myself today.
Why is it that every fucking song I'm hearing makes me think of her?
Fuck. I shouldn't be thinking about her, but I am. She hasn't left my mind. Not even for a minute.
The way she held back emotionally last night—the precision, and control with which she wields her words.
How she can pull herself back from the brink - when every animal sense is telling her to go.
I was able to break through that wall of hers. I got her to drop her guard, even if it was for only one night.
The problem is: I want more. I have a taste, and it's not enough. I want the whole package. I want to fuck her.
I don't just want to steal into that stoic outer fortress of hers—I need it. I need to storm it, and knock down every fucking wall.
I look at the calendar on my desk and absentmindedly find myself circling yesterday's date. I run my pen around the date over, and over, the lines deepening and reminding me of its importance in quick circles. It's like I'm fucking crazy.
My phone rings and I don't bother answering it. Instead, I lean back into my leather office chair, and run my fingers through my hair, as if I'm trying to smooth out the thoughts in my brain.
But how can I? My brain is still stuck on last night. Instead of a pause button, life has gifted me with a repeat button.
Athena isn't just another woman. She's an equal. This is the realization that dawns on me. There was a connection—I felt it. I couldn't make that up if I tried. I've fucked a lot of women, but being with Athena is going to be something entirely fucking different.
We shared a connection that I didn't even know I was capable of having with anyone, let alone Athena Hawke.
But none of that matters. I can't fall in love with her.
I'm not going to lose my business just because Athena has gotten under my thick skin. Sorry, but there isn't a woman in the whole world worth that.
No fucking way. There's too much at stake.
Just as I open a spreadsheet on my computer, and give myself a pep talk—something along the lines of 'I better fucking get my shit together and focus on work or else,' Andrew walks in.
It's more of a march than a walk really, like he means business. I catch the faint whiff of cigar smoke on his suit. He must've won another case today. He always smokes a celebratory Cuban cigar after a victory.
"Well, if it isn't the gladiator himself," he smiles, clapping his hands in one triumphant gesture. "You've made it this far; I know you've got this contest in the bag, which is a good thing man because I'm telling you, the vultures are circling."
