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“Pity,” she says and smacks her lips. “That would have been ideal.”
“Truthfully, if Ididhave coffee, would you come?”
“That depends entirely on how you make it,” she answers.
A shiver of delight runs down my spine towards my cock, and the desire builds inside me. She’s standing a little closer to me, our bodies not touching, but I can feel the heat between us.
“I like to take my time, make sure it’s perfect. Smooth and strong.”
“Hmm, just the way I like it,” she whispers and bites her lower lip. “I still wouldn’t fuck you,” she whispers and steps away from me.
Admittedly, I’m disappointed. But I’ll never show it.
“Well, maybe next time, right?” I ask hopefully, but still with enough nonchalance. I don’t want her to think I’m desperate, even though I am a little.
“Good night, Anson,” she says, and before I can respond, she closes the door in my face.
NINE
~ Kinsley ~
“Good night,” I hear Anson say from the other side of the door, followed by his footsteps.
I rest my forehead on the cool surface of the door and close my eyes for a few seconds. As much as I cannot tolerate that guy, I’m so attracted to him that I can’t even think straight.
Why?
He’s pompous and insufferable, but somehow I can’t stop thinking about his stupidly handsome face and the heat of his body pressed up against me. But it was also nice of him to apologize, even though I’m not quite sure if he meant it or not. He has a face that’s difficult to read, so I feel a little out of my depth. Plus, being scared in this big hotel, in a dark hallway with plastic sheets all over the place, is not my idea of a good time.
I let out a slow breath and shake my head. “What is wrong with you?”
I step away from the door, feeling very conflicted about it. This man, as intolerable as he is, was the subject of my fantasy and the reason why I had the best orgasm of my life earlier. And he didn’t even know it. Imagine if he did. How smug would that son of a bitch be?
I sit on the bed, my heart pounding in my chest, and I run my fingers through my hair. Feeling conflicted is not something I’m used to. My assertive and controlled nature is what I’m most proud of. I know what I want and won't change my mind when I’ve decided on something.
And I don’t let anyone make me doubt myself.
Especially not the way Anson makes me doubt everything I have ever known. I’m even considering going to his room for the rest of the night. It’s freezing in my room, but I’m so angry right now that I’m sure I can keep myself warm.
Although I wouldn’t mind him keeping me warm, I probably wouldn’t be able to control myself and end up doing things I’ll regret tomorrow morning. Since we're working for rival companies, I don’t want that to happen. I want to be professional like I always am. And not even Anson, who is hotter than hell, is going to make me act anything but professional.
Grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around my shoulders, I abandon the idea of going to Anson’s room entirely. Nothing good will come of it anyway.
I grab a few more blankets from the closet and build myself a little nest on the bed. I roll up a few towels and shove them under the doors and windows to keep the cold out.
After insulating the room as much as possible, I climb into bed and lay under the thick, three-layer blanket nest I made for myself.
“I hate this damn cold,” I mutter to myself.
At first, my lips quiver from the cold. But as soon as the heat from the blankets begins to warm my body, it’s not as bad anymore. I just hope the wind and snow die down by morning so I can get the hell out of here.
Looking back, I wasn’t too keen on coming here in the first place. Something just didn’t feel right to me as soon as I climbed into that helicopter. Of course, I didn’t express my concern to my boss, or anyone else for that matter. I simply thought I was being silly, and I was sure my boss would think so too. I’m not usually someone who listens to those ‘feelings’ since I believe in being in control of my own destiny. I live rationally and follow my head instead of my heart.
My mother always believed and still does that my head stops me from using my heart. I’m logical and rational. I don’t believe in ghosts; even as a child, I never believed in the Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus. Magic didn’t make sense to me. Even as a kid and no one could tell me otherwise. I was the kid who rained on everyone else’s parade when it came to things like that.
She also believes she’ll not live to see the day I finally fall in love. It was more likely that I’d marry someone out of convenience and not for love.
A marriage of convenience, imagine that. Like, I’m living in the Regency period or something.
