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Chapter One
Bennet
“What the actual fu...hell?” the little minx screeches at me when I tell her she has to go to the Boss’ office.
At least she had the decency not to drop the f-bomb around me this time.
I scowl at her; her language, her attitude, her conduct...everything about Rhylie Hall has me scowling. Especially how her bratty behaviour has me throbbing and itching to teach her a lesson.
I need to start by saying that I don’t want to send Rhylie into the arms of my enemy… well okay, maybe my brother Cole isn’t my enemy per se, but he’s certainly my competition. In fact, both my brothers are. Particularly, when it comes to this stubborn, obnoxiously sexy woman.
We all want her.
But it was Cole who insisted on snatching her away from her previous department and promoting her as a way to get closer to her. I thought I was one-upping him by snagging her as my personal assistant, but already she has me tearing my hair out and regretting my decision.
For the fourth time this week she has turned up late; yesterday she spilt coffee on my crotch. I swear she did that shit on purpose. And now she’s fucked up my appointments. I just spent an hour on the phone to one of our biggest clients, getting my ass chewed out, because she accidentally wiped my schedule...whilst she was playing Solitaire.
Seriously, she’s the worst fucking PA ever. I’ve been through a few of them before she came along. And yet, no matter how gently I try to point out her mistakes, she always goes off the deep end; yelling at me and somehow making everything out to be my fault. She’s diabolical. I have a perma-stress headache from dealing with her stubborn, cranky ass.
“Rhylie,” I can hear the exasperation in my voice, “just go.” I tell her resignedly, “I’ll be along in a minute to explain to the boss what you’ve done this time.”
Heavy emphasis on the end of that statement. She’s only been working for us for six days and I’ve already dragged her unrepentant ass into the office more times than I can count.
What the hell is her problem?
Ms. Hall is going to be the death of me. That coffee was fucking hot. I swear I have third-degree burns on my cock. Still, I can’t help but watch her, like a moth drawn to a dangerous raging inferno, as she flips me the bird and stomps down the hallway, seething. That girl has some serious assets. I groan and have to rearrange myself. I don’t want to walk into my brother’s lair with a boner. Not if I want to get my point across. As fit as she is, Rhylie Hall is completely incompetent, and she needs to go.
I take a moment to compose myself, not wanting to go into the meeting as emotional and hot-headed as she is, but damn, if that woman doesn’t get my blood pumping for all the wrong reasons. Actually, she gets my blood pumping for the right reasons too. Unfortunately, I swear by snagging her as my own PA, I shot myself in the foot. Or at the very least have opened myself up to an onslaught of lawsuits if I so much as touch her.
I'm just trying to decide if it would be worth it.
And if I did touch her, would I want to fuck her senseless? Or strangle her with my own bare hands?
Both is the message my cock sends to me loud and clear. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound as they say. And, man, would I like to pound…
