AllFreeNovel
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He’s so used to getting his own way, it’s infuriating. He has so much wealth and privilege, it never occurs to him that he might not get everything he wants.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, finally breaking the silence.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“I can see you sitting there seething. Let’s talk about it, Ainsley.”
What a mature response. Usually, we’d yell a bit, tell each other to fuck off, and then walk away. Is this his way of winding me up? Pretending to be the mature one.
“If you don’t know what you’ve done wrong then I’m not sure—”
“Wanting to ensure you’re safe is wrong?”
“The way you’ve gone about it is. Surely you can see that?”
“I’m just doing what needs to be done.”
“Fucking hell, what’s wrong with you?”
He huffs. “All right. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
“Ask me! You’re sorry you didn’taskme.”
He waves his hand dismissively. “Yes. That.”
I curl my hands into fists. “Are youkiddingme?”
“When you get angry like this, you get this look in your eyes, and I really want to bend you over the table and fuck you hard.”
My eyes pop. They almost shoot clean out of my head, and I’m not exaggerating. I fall back into my seat, lips parted, no longer feeling cold. Everything ishotnow. Scorching. I’m a ball of burning need… and a whole lot of shock.
“Your mouth open like that, sweetheart, isnothelping.”
I snap my teeth together, blinking rapidly as if that can push away the images in my mind.
If I had a coat, I would wrap it around myself because the way he’s looking at me could strip the clothes straight off my back.
“Casper… Stop it.” My body shudders, desperate and needy and wishing I could tell him to just do it. Strip me off and give the whole restaurant a show.
“Stop what?”
“You know what you’re doing. Stop trying to throw me off course. I’m not going to forget how crazy you’ve been.”
He tilts his head. “You believe I’m trying to throw you off course. Interesting.”
I hate it when he says ‘interesting’ like that, telling me I’m off the mark when in reality, I’m not.
“What are you doing, then?” I ask, calling his bluff.
Now he needs to think on his feet and lie, which he’ll be good at, given his chosen career.
“Not yet,” he says.
“That’s not an answer to my question.”
“I never promised to answer your question.”
My head spins, and I’m not sure I can recall what we were even talking about. His expression is very dirty, and I don’t think I’m the only one imaging him clearing this table off.
