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But this is different. Miss Morgan now owns this joint, and if she’s smart, she’ll realize she has us by the balls.
Hutch always has to be right. Always. And he isn’t going to let any woman come intohisclubhouse that he’s spent over half his life running and keeping legit only to tell him what to do, especially a beautiful, twenty-something-year-old beauty queen from the golden state. Not going to happen.
I almost feel sorry for her. If I didn’t want to bone her so bad, I might be inclined to go easy, but the truth is, I can’t stop looking at her. Picturing her hair loose and my mouth at her neck biting her pulse is rendering me speechless... and making me rock hard.
“That just isn’t going to be possible,” Hutch mutters. “We will discuss the counteroffer, and once we’ve done that, Steel will deliver it and our terms in person.”
She blinks a couple of times as if digesting what he’s just said. Surprisingly, she doesn’t move to leave as most people would after that blunt dismissal. She just stares back.
“Counteroffer?” She fires back, repeating his words.
Hutch sits back in his chair and studies her. He’s a fairly big man, not bigger than me, but intimidating enough. To emphasize his point, he crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes as if he’s not understanding why she’s still sitting here.
“That’s what this is, Miss Morgan, a negotiation.”
She doesn’t let up. “I’m confused. When you say, ‘delivering your terms’, what terms would those be exactly?”
Hutch doesn’t miss a beat.
“Well, given the fact that the club has built this building from the ground up with our own funds from its previously dilapidated state, no depreciation, for example, has been taken into account for what we’ve put in and maintained.”
She clasps her hands together tightly.
“Depreciation is claimed on your taxes though, right? It’s not something that would be reflected in the price of land or its current value. In fact, it has nothing to do with it. If you chose to use money of your own to rebuild and renovate this building, that was between you and Max, and the IRS. So, I don’t see how it’s relevant, to be frank.”
Fuck. She’s smart. I have to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from smirking.
We all stare and can’t quite believe the words that just came out of her mouth. She has no idea who she’s dealing with, and she doesn’t seem to care.
Hutch’s jaw twitches. He isn’t used to anyone, especially a woman from out of town, firing back at him like that or posing any kind of challenge.
I try not to stare at her chest as her breathing becomes more rapid. This is getting more delicious by the second, and I don’t like where my thoughts are going but I can’t help it. She’s hot, and mouthy too.
“Like I said, we’ll be in touch,” he says with finality, frost in his tone.
“Right,” she counters, then glances at the woman next to her, completely ignoring the dude on the other side. “Well, we’ll see ourselves out then. Thank you, Mr. Hutchinson, for your…time…I hope you make a decision soon.”
I like the sarcasm, but her sayin’Mr. Hutchinsonsounds so wrong.
I like her. She’s got a fighting spirit.
He gives her a curt nod.
“See you around,” Gunner calls after her. Bones snickers across the table, shaking his head.
The assistant gathers the remaining contents of the paperwork together messily while I stare at Miss Morgan’s perfect ass as she disappears.
I glance over to Brock, who just sits there shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, an amused look plastered on his face.
“Nice piece of pussy,” Gunner remarks before anyone can cut in. “Wouldn’t mind getting me some of that.”
“Didn’t know you did redheads,” says Bones, referring to the lawyer lady, whatever her name was. More laughs ensue.
Gunner rolls his eyes and sits back in his chair. “Funny fucker,” he mutters.
“Keep it in your pants,” Hutch barks. He sounds exasperated and definitely not pleased. “We don’t need sexual harassment charges on us. She doesn’t even realize she’s got us by the balls yet, and I’d like to keep it that way. She might be a sweet piece of ass, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you charm the pants off her and blow this whole thing. The last thing I need is some crazy bitch disgruntled because you wanted to chase some tail and didn’t call her in the morning. I want this deal done my way.”
“Gunner hasn’t charmed anyone in his entire life,” says Rubble. “Let’s be real here.”
