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"Wankface?" Zara coughs.
"He can be creative when it comes to his insults," I admit.
"So do you wanna play?" She nods toward the pool table.
I peer into her face. "What are we playing for?"
"Whatever you want," she says lightly.
"Whatever it is, you’re going to lose."
"You were the one losing when I walked in," she points out.
"I won’t lose with you."
"Oh?" She tosses her cue from one hand to the other. "And why is that?"
"Because of the stakes I’m playing for."
7
Zara
"Stakes, huh?" I’m pleased my voice comes out in a low, modulated purr.
I’m one of the board members of the 7A Club. I’m also the only woman on the board; something I intend to rectify. Meanwhile, I decided to swing by to conduct a meeting with a prospective client. I completed the meeting and was on my way out when I heard Hunter’s voice as I passed the billiards room. My instinctive response was to avoid him and keep walking, a response which annoyed the heck out of me. If it were anyone else, I’d pop in and say hi, so why am I treating him differently? Why am I so worried I’ll give away just how much he affects me? He’s only an arrogant twat. So what if he’s sexy as hell? Surely, I’ve embellished our last encounter in my head. And that kiss... Oh, my god, that kiss. It can’t be as good as I remember it, right?
There was only one way to find out. I had to walk into the room and face him. And that’s exactly what I’d done. I entered the room and assumed my persona of the confident career woman, the one who’ll never shrink from a challenge. It's a role I’ve perfected over the years. Only, I’ve always recognized when to back down. That’s the reason I’m successful.
I know when to cede ground and when to push my advantage, and this entire situation is one where my instincts scream I need to get the hell out. Away from him, before I get in way over my head. But I’ve missed seeing him. Missed the high cut of his cheekbones, the meanness of his thin upper lip, offset by that puffy lower lip that seduces me to lean in and nip on it to find out if he tastes as dangerous as he appears. He’s taken off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his button-down, and those veiny forearms—good god, they’re enough to make my panties self-combust.
As it is, I’m aware of the throb between my thighs, the sweet ache in my lower belly that flared to life as soon as his gaze locked on mine. It’s like a tractor beam pulled me toward him, and at the very last moment, I managed to tear my gaze from him and greet Declan. And then, Hunter stepped right in front of me. He blocked the other man from my line of sight, and for a second, I was shocked, and I hate to say it, but it also aroused me.
That’s the move of an alpha staking his claim. A primal instinct he harnessed to make very clear to the other male that I’m out of bounds. It was both unnecessary—for I regard Declan as a friend and nothing more—and also, so primitive, so elemental in its rawness, it left me breathless.
My thighs clench, my core spasming in on itself with the keen awareness that I’m so empty inside. I’ve never felt like this before, not in relation to a man, and the sheer suddenness and strength of my reaction has left me unable to protest. Also, damn, but it’s so good to see him. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed him until just now, while he’s standing there, all power and grace and so much masculinity, I’m sure my ovaries are opening up and welcoming him to stamp his name on them.
Whoa! This is unexpected. I know I’m attracted to him, but to think of pursuing something with him is career suicide, to say the least. He’s in the public eye, and if the chemistry between us were spotted by the tabloids, my reputation would take a nosedive. I’d be the woman the Prime Ministerial candidate has a thing for. Forget what I’ve achieved on my own merit so far. It’s a narrative I’m determined not to have thrust on me. It’s why I’m going to come out on top of any encounter with him. It’s why I’m going to win this game with him.
"Remember what you said the last time?" He leans forward on the balls of his feet. "If you come out with me again, you’ll kiss me of your own accord."
"I’m aware," I murmur.
His lips curl. "If you lose this game, you come out with me on a second date."
"I won’t lose."
He chuckles. "You’re very confident of yourself."
"Is that a problem?"
He narrows his gaze. "The only problem is that the more I try to keep away from you, the more I can’t stop thinking of you."
I blink. "Excuse me?"
His gaze intensifies. "You sound surprised," he drawls.
"I… I am. I wasn’t expecting you to—"
