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“I thought that might have pissed you off.” Manhandler rolled toward her, pressing his chest against her back and leaving her nowhere to go. His fingertips trailed down her arm, and goose bumps rose in their wake. It was as if that bit of physical contact in the bathroom gave him the notion that he had license to touch her now. “You know I only said that to throw him off, right? He was too close to the truth.”
She had suspected that, but at the same time, that’s exactly what he would say if he thought it might get him a free pass into her panties. Elise wasn’t about to fall for that little trick. She wasn’t born yesterday.
“Come on. Don’t be mad. Not after we shared that moment in the bathroom.”
Which confirmed her suspicions. “You mean when you groped me?” Elise shrugged his hand off, but he wasn’t deterred. Instead, he turned his attention to her hair, petting it back off her shoulder.
“Buttercup—”
“Do you really think calling me by a pet name is going to loosen me up? Because I’m not one to be taken advantage of.”
“I’m not trying to take advantage,” he insisted. “I just don’t know your name.”
Elise…hesitated. Pondering the merit of his words, she knew he was probably telling the truth. Or at least part of it. In an effort not to get to know one another, not to blur the lines of captor and captee, he’d resorted to calling her something sweet, whereas she’d gone with something else. “Well, I don’t know yours either, so I’ve assigned you a nickname too.”
His fingers, which had been combing through her hair, paused. “I can only imagine what you settled on,” he mused.
“Manhandler.” She almost laughed, saying it out loud. If only she was permitted to see his face. Damn blindfold.
“That’s…original. Is that what you really think of me?”
“Yes. You have a tendency to manhandle things. Namely, me.”
He took a moment to think that over. “Do you have one for my partner too?”
“Drop dead sexy is what I’ve been going with,” she fibbed, enjoying the weighted silence that proceeded.
“And how did you come up with that? You haven’t even seen him.” The tightness in his voice told Elise all she needed to know: She’d bruised his poor, fragile ego. Aw, poor baby. Served him right.
“No, but I’ve heard him.”
“So you like his voice?”
She gave a noncommittal shrug. He could take it however he wanted.
“So you liked getting smacked around then? Is that foreplay to you or something?” Now he sounded both perturbed and disgusted. The next thing Elise knew, he was up and out of bed. At least it got her what she wanted, which was away from him. “What is wrong with you women? It’s like you can’t help but be stupid.”
“Hey! I have a masters in biology!” Sitting up, Elise ripped off her blindfold and found him pacing the foot of the bed.
“Then you should be fully aware of what an idiot you are. Attracted to the worst kind of man? That’s textbook, buttercup.”
“You call me that again, and I will punch you in the face,” she threatened, pointing a finger at him.
“So thatishow you like it, eh?” Manhandler marched up to her, his sheer size and the dark, menacing look in his eyes scaring the wits out of her. “Maybe I should give you a good smack too, then, if that’s what gets you off.”
“Try it. See what happens,” Elise seethed. If he thought for a second that she would let him lay a finger on her and not fight back, he was in for a shock. Elise might be laid-back and she might avoid conflict in favor of keeping the peace and she might let cooler heads prevail on most days, but this was not most days. If she was going down, it was going to be fighting.
“What are you gonna do, buttercup? Claw my eyes out?”
No, because she had a bad habit of biting her nails off, but Elise would take a chunk out of his hide, one way or another. Lips peeling back, she bared her teeth. “I told you not to call me that.”
He never saw it coming. One moment, Elise was on the bed, and the next, she had launched herself at him. He’d barely had time to brace himself before she impacted his chest with her full weight. Stumbling backward, Manhandler fought to keep her from battering his face while simultaneously attempting to find his footing so they both didn’t crash to the floor.
But he was failing, and Elise had lost her mind. Blinded by her fury, she unleashed her anger, fear, and age’s worth of resentment toward the male population on him. The words that came out of her mouth were unintelligible, even to her own ears. But the gist of it was that he was a piece of crap, and she was going to wipe the floor with him.
“Just calm the fuck down,” Manhandler told her as he fought off her attack. But she’d wrapped her legs good and tight around his hips, so she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
