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You do not wear skirts unless I’m with you.
I want to say it to her while she’s face down over my lap.
She needs the anger spanked out of her. She needs it kissed out of her, too.
She’s lost and I want her to feel found.
It’s ridiculous. Inconvenient.
I’m supposed to be fucking her for revenge. To send a very nasty message to her father that we are watching McGraw-Hale and we don’t tolerate their attempts to learn our strategies. Any kind of ammunition thrown our way will only be used against them. I’ve been working my whole life to bring down her bastard father, Gerard Hale. Now is my moment.
I just didn’t expect the gold of her eyes to slice into my chest like a saw blade.
I’ve never responded like this to a female. I’m usually indifferent. They all look the same in the dark. My mind is never engaged. Definitely not my heart. But this girl…Kaylee. I would want every single light on. I would want her in my bed, not a hotel suite. I’d want to look her in the eye when she comes, taste her…
Taste her.
Oh, Jesus.
My pulse begins sprinting a mile a minute when I imagine eating her out. Giving her an orgasm. Pleasure. Listening to her pant my name, her thighs spread, supple ass cheeks flexing in my hands. Shit. I’m salivating. I’ve never been hungrier for anything in my life. My tongue would replace the flame of anger in her eyes with bliss. It would melt away and I’d be responsible. Fuck. I want to be responsible for her. What the hell is happening to me?
“I really should go,” she whispers.
But she can’t move, because my hand is wrapped around her elbow. I’ve moved closer to her on the couch, unconsciously, her cedar and roses scent dragging me in, along with the sound of her breaths. Breaths that align perfectly with mine. I’ve heard people talk about this, meeting a kindred spirit or a soul mate. That can’t be what this is? Can it?
No. Hell no.
In order to meet a soul mate, one’s soul would have to be available—and mine is not.
I sold it to the devil a long time ago.
I’m just in shock over the magnitude of this attraction.
I’ll fuck her and the spell will be broken.
She’s here to steal my secrets for her father and I can’t forget that.
I’m in a checkmate position with Gerard Hale. Execute it.
“How can you hand me this resume full of accolades and tell me you’re not impressive?”
I expect her to panic‚ since those honors are fake, but she keeps her gaze steady on mine, those golden eyes occasionally dipping to my mouth, the color on her cheeks deepening from light pink to fuchsia. “It’s just a piece of paper. Would your resume be an accurate summary of who you are?”
“Not even close.”
She hums, drawing me in closer. Dear God, the valley of her tits looks soft.
“What would your honest resume say?” she asks me.
For some reason, I can’t seem to be anything but honest with her about who I am. Our breaths match. They’re in perfect sync. “Calculating, ruthless, wins at all costs,” I answer.
Her lips twitch. “Don’t you have any good qualities?”
“In my world, those are good qualities.”
“What about my world?” she whispers, trembling. Trembling because my hand has just slid onto her knee, wrapped around it. Squeezing. “I…never mind. I don’t know why I’m asking you that. It doesn’t matter what qualities I find positive in a man. This is a job interview.”
Her nipples are in little points against the front of her blouse—and now there’s no use pretending I’m not salivating. Or that my hands aren’t aching to stroke her skin. Palm her tits. Spread her legs. “At some point, we’re going to have to stop pretending that’s all this is.”
“I don’t…have experience with this. It’s not normal, though…?” Our clothing rasps as I lean over her, bringing our mouths closer. Within inches of each other. “It’s not normal that…it’s hard to breathe around you?”
My head is spinning with the magic of her. “No, it’s not fucking normal.” Slowly, I graze her lips with mine, side to side, my right hand traveling up beneath her skirt. “What qualities would you like in a man? I want to know right now.”
“I’d only be guessing. I’ve never been with one.”
This is the second time I’ve suspected she’s playing games with me—and it pisses me off. The first time, when she called me a narcissist and made me laugh, I grew suspicious. I don’t like being pandered to or any sort of brown nosing—did she come here knowing that?
Am I being had?
I pushed aside that possibility when she tried to leave the interview. But now I’m back to being wary, because there is no way in hell a man hasn’t lost himself in this female. She’s irresistible. Beautiful and intelligent and vulnerable and strong and interesting. Even if she was raised out on Long Island by nannies, there had to have been opportunities for romance. A man would scale the walls of a fucking castle and slay a dragon for a chance with Kaylee.
