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Vents, intact.
The amusement is hard to smother, so I don’t bother, letting my lips tip up when I realize I’m the threat.
Payton is standing in the middle of the room.
Right in front of me.
Mouth open.
Eyes wide.
Then I look down and see why she is screaming.
Her brown locks are pitch-black now. The strands cling to her skin.
Her hair is wet.
My gaze travels farther down her body over her exposed skin. She’s standing in front of me in a towel.
It does little to hide her. Although, it’s wrapped tightly, glued to her body. Her cleavage spills out of the edge. Little droplets of water caress the swells.
She showered, and I barged in.
For the third time, I note that she’s gorgeous.
Three times too many.
“Do you mind?” she hisses at me. “I’m trying to get dressed!”
I lean against the doorframe, kicking one foot in front of the other. “Seeing as you can’t seem to bring yourself to show up to our appointment, I can’t seem to bring myself to give a fuck about what you’re wearing.” My eyes lower, one brow lifted. “Or, in this case, not wearing.”
“Get out!”
“No.”
“I can’t get dressed if you’re in the room.” She’s clearly angry, and that just makes me want to fuck with her more.
“You don’t need to be dressed for what I’m going to tell you.”
I let my words hang in the air until I see her scowl deepen, shoulders visibly shaking with rage. She takes a step toward me, remembers her situation, and eases back, tightening the towel around her chest.
“But first . . .” I trail off, lifting my phone and making a show of typing something in it. “You were seventeen minutes late. At two grand a minute, that’s thirty-four thousand dollars I’ll have to garnish from your inheritance.” I tsk, pretending to be saddened by the idea. “It’s only fair. But you should know, if you keep this up, there will be no money left to inherit.”
“What the fuck!”
She starts for me, reaching for my phone. It brings her body against mine. Her bare thigh slips between my legs as she lunges up for the phone, which I hold above my head. I’m almost a foot taller. She’ll never win.
But damn, does she try.
And damn, do I enjoy it.
“You can’t do this!” she cries out.
“Who’s going to stop me?” I raise a brow, staring down my nose at her. “You?” I laugh. Loud and in her face.
“Two thousand dollars a minute! That’s insane.” She’s seething.
Her eyes shutter before she takes several calming breaths, pushing her chest against mine with each inhale. She moves to step back before realizing her towel has slipped. It puts her in a precarious situation where she’s using my body to shield hers from me.
