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I try to spot anything about him that would give his inner thoughts away: a flicker of hesitancy behind those dark mysterious eyes of his, perhaps? But nada.Nothing. The man is so confident in himself that he doesn’t even flinch at my snarky attitude.
And you know what’s kind of crazy? That steely assurance he possesses somehow adds an extra layer of attractiveness to the man, like it’s this magnetic pull that draws you in even deeper. His sheercertaintyin his manner makes him so damn captivating...
Remember, he’s a criminal, Ava.
“That’s what you signed up for, Miss Matson,” Damon replies quietly, on the verge of a hiss. “Your signature is still fresh on that contract. This is why you’re here. Willingly.”
“Yes, I know,” I say. “But notnow. Especially not when the ink on that contract isn’t even dried yet. I’m not some whore to strip down immediately for you and spread open my legs, no matter what agreement I’ve signed.”
The man’s eyes bore straight through me like lasers. “Already trying to break the terms of our agreement, girl? It’s not even been ten minutes.”
“Let me ease into things,” I reply. “I mean, after all, you are a cold-hearted killer.”
Damon raises his eyebrows at that. “Cold-hearted killer, you say? That’s strong words.”
“Truewords,” I retort back quickly.
Damon takes in a long breath.
“You have a lot of misconceptions about me, Ava,” he says. “I have never ordered violence on anyone innocent.”
“Say what you want, Damon... spew as many lies as you want, but I’m not going to let you fuck me right now. It ain’t happening, dude.”
And then Damon smiles.
“How about you prove how much you don’t want to have sex with me, then?” he asks.
I shake my head, confused. “What do you mean?”
The man leans back in his chair opposite me.
“How about you show me how much youdon’twant to have sex with me by coming over here and sitting in my lap?”
He’s nuts...
I scoff. “Stop joking around, Damon.”
The man’s face immediately drops. There’s a brooding temper brewing there. Okay, he does not like my condescending tone, that’s for sure.
“I never joke, girl,” he snarls. “Come over here and sit in my lap. Now.”
Oh, God.
“But...”
“Come over herenow.”
There is something in the man’s voice that compels me to do his bidding. It must be his control that coerces. His poise. His brashness. His complete sureness that he’s going to get his way no matter what.
That sheer annoyingarroganceof his.
And let’s not overlook that unbelievably alluring resonant baritone voice.
I’d do anything to hear him boss me around like this...
But there is also a part of me that wants to disprove the gangster. To defy him. To show him how strong I am, even if I’m here to repay a debt.
“Okay, then,” I reply. “Sure. Let me prove you wrong, Damon Penmayne. I will sit in your lap, purelyplatonically.”
