Warren sighs. “Look, I’m not interested in paid pussy, and frankly, you’re not hot enough for me.”
I look back at Warren, my mouth popping open. “Man, you are such a dick!” I tell him. I don’t actually know what I look like, but I feel plenty hot, and that’s what matters. “For the last time, I’m not a hooker! I’m your cupid, matchmaker, love guru, whatever you wanna call it. The point is, I’m here to get you Love Matched.”
Instead of laughing—because Warren Knight does not laugh—he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, mumbling something I don’t catch.
“It’s gotta be Leo from Holster’s. Or maybe it was Ken. I could see either one of them setting this shit up,” Warren says over my shoulder to Mr. H.
“I wasn’t sent by them,” I interject. “I’m your—”
“Yeah, yeah. My fucking cupid. I heard you the first time,” Warren cuts me off. “But guess what? I don’t need a dating service or a call girl. I can get pussy whenever I fucking want. You can leave now. Don’t come back.”
My lips purse. “Just for that, I’m gonna hope that you fall in love with someone who has really annoying habits,” I threaten him. “Like nail chewing. Or picking wedgies out of her ass in public. Or dry heaving every time you come.”
He frowns at me before shaking his head. “I’m sure,” he says dryly. “Now get out.”
“See!” I say, taking a step forward and getting into his face. I point a finger right at his nose because it seems like a good way to get him to pay attention. “This is why all your dates fail! Because your asshole starts leaking right out of your body! It’s like you can’t even help it. You’re too hot for your own good, but you know what? Just because you’re sexy doesn’t give you the right to be a jerk. You should start using your dick instead of being one.”
“Oh shit, she did not just say that!” Now Mr. H is practically howling. I think even tears are coming out of his eyes, he’s laughing so hard.
“Not helping, Harvey,” Warren says.
Ha! I knew his name started with an H.
My internal victory doesn’t get much attention though, because Warren’s face hardens, looking so scary that I immediately drop my finger in case his fury makes him bare his teeth and bite it off. “Listen, you little—”
He gets cut off when his office door suddenly starts to swing open.
Uh oh.
Chapter 7
The door is opening, and my flight instinct kicks in, making me instantly flex my wings to fly away. Of course, I don’t have the damn things anymore, so my flight instinct sucks.
“Shit!” Warren curses under his breath at our precarious situation.
Before I can even blink, he’s shoving me over to his desk and pushing me under it, his legs blocking me from escape.
“Hey!” I squeal, but he kicks me with his foot to silence me. The fucker actually kicks me on the arm to get me to shut up. Okay, so it was more of a tap with his foot, but still. I am shooketh and offended...eth.
“Mr. Knight! There you are,” I hear an older, masculine voice with a Southern drawl sound from above me. “I got in a day early for our meeting. I hope that’s alright. Your secretary let me in.”
“That’s perfectly fine, Mr. Abner. How was your flight in? Not too bad, I hope.” Warren’s voice is cool, collected, and totally calm. He doesn’t sound at all like he has a mostly naked cupid shoved under his desk.
Warren moves, and then he’s sitting down, his legs spread wide in front of me. My neck is bent forward as I awkwardly keep hunched over in the tight space, but thankfully, the desk is solid on the other side, so the new visitor can’t see me unless he comes around to where Warren is.
The two of them carry on with idle chit chat for a bit, talking about airports and food and sports teams. I get a little distracted as I wiggle my toes and play with my nipples again, but when the conversation drifts to business, I get bored and wonder how long I’m going to be stuck under here.
That boredom then quickly moves on to me getting more pissed off. This fricken shithead shoved me under a desk after calling me a hooker, acted like an ass, threatened me, and then foot nudged