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A low rumble leaves my chest as I cast my glare on her.
I walk toward the dresser as she loses her smile and steps back. She keeps backing up until she hits the wall.
I cage her in. “Rule number one, no more talking unless I tell you to,” I breathe. “Rule number two, do not leave this suite unless I instruct you to. Rule number three, no more waving your underwear around, unless you plan on taking it off and giving me that show you so gallantly said you’d provide.”
She is so close I feel her breath hitch in her chest.
I lower my mouth to her ear, knowing full well I’m affecting her. “What’s wrong, princess? Cat got your tongue?”
She places her hands on my chest and pushes me back. “I wouldn’t wear these dish rags for you if you were the last man on earth!”
Dish rags? The fucking nerve of this woman…
“Keep talking like that, and I may be the last man on earth you ever see!”
“Ooh, is that a threat?” she sasses back angrily.
“You’ve already pushed me far enough with your insults all day, and frankly, I’m sick of hearing it.”
“What about you calling me a psycho?” she throws back. “Is that not insulting? Or is that because you think you own this entire town, if not the whole goddamn world!”
“Excuse me for pointing out an accurate observation. I’ll remind you that you threw shit at me in a rage of violence.”
“You’ve got some nerve.”
“And you’re a pain in my ass.”
We stare at one another as I realize I’m only inches away from her face…and that mouth. Fuck me, that pouty little mouth, and what I want her to do with it. Not for the first time, I imagine it wrapped around my cock while she fucking gags on it.
She’s also stopped trying to push me off and her hands now rest against my chest.
Every fucking light is alive inside my body at her touch.
Every. Single. Fucking. Light.
She’s been sent here to torture me, of that I’m sure.
I need to get out of here.
“Dinner will be served at eight pm.”
“Stick your dinner where the sun doesn’t shine!” she growls back at me, her eyes fierce.
Good. Let it be a lesson not to keep poking me. She will fucking learn.
I push off the wall. “Go ahead and starve then.”
I stalk across the room and slam the door behind me, muttering profanities under my breath as I head toward the elevator and stab the button on the wall several times.
Katiya Petrov is the most infuriating woman I’ve ever fucking met.
I remind myself to ring Georgie and blast her head off for buying raunchy underwear when I clearly stated to buy something neutral and comfortable.
If I wanted a side-show at Barbarella’s, I would have asked for it. And now all I’m doing is picturing Katiya in barely-there underwear, flinging herself around a non-existent stripper’s pole, not before I fuck her on that four-poster bed with the equally non-existent ceiling mirrors showing me all of her while she rides me. I may now have to get one installed.
Not that I plan on fucking her. She might be the death of me with her annoying words and attitude, but I’m not stupid. Doing that was never the plan.
I just don’t know how I will get through the next two days with this demon of a woman.
