Furious (Anger Management #2) - R.L. Mathewson Page 0,22

with her head and even if he wasn’t, he’d be fine.

Just fine…

In a wheelchair, in the freezing rain with muscle loss, no real physical therapy since his accident, which meant that he probably wouldn’t make it far before he had to give up, but with his muscles spent and locked up from the cold he would probably be stuck out there where he would catch pneumonia and die a miserable bastard. It would serve him right, Sloane told herself even as she pushed her chair back, grumbled about cranky assholes, and headed toward the open front door, noting that he was nowhere in sight.

Great.

She should be happy that he wanted to do something besides sitting in front of the television all day, Sloane reminded herself as she stepped outside and found herself immediately drenched. She just wished that his sudden need to leave the confines of the living room didn’t involve her developing pneumonia.

She also wished that she’d made sure that he was outside before she’d stepped outside, Sloane thought when she heard the telltale sound of the front door clicking shut behind her, followed by the sounds of the deadbolt being thrown.

“I really hate that asshole,” Sloane said, nodding to herself as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the front door to wait out the storm, deciding that perhaps sleeping in a room full of boyband memorabilia wouldn’t be so bad after all.

*-*-*-*

“I quit,” his little ray of sunshine growled somewhat viciously after he’d so kindly opened the front door so that he could get a better picture of her freezing her ass off for the group following tonight’s events on Twitter.

So ungrateful, Chase thought with a chuckle as he uploaded the latest picture before dropping his new phone in his lap so that he could move out of the way of the furious woman who was completely soaked.

“Is something amiss, Pookie?” he asked, feigning innocence even as he continued to smile.

There was just something about fucking over this woman that put a smile on his face. He couldn’t put a name to this overwhelming feeling of joy, but it was definitely something that he could get used to. Hiring her was the best decision that he’d ever made.

Granted, it hadn’t been his decision, but that didn’t really matter, not when he was enjoying himself for the first time in months. As he watched the woman standing in front of him, trembling with rage or hypothermia, whatever, he couldn’t help but take in the sight before him. Knowing that it would piss her off, and only because he wanted to piss her off, he took his time looking her over from top to bottom and everything in between.

He took in her normally spikey short hair matted against her head, the homicidal gray-eyed glare, the gray T-shirt clinging to her skin and emphasizing the full curves of her perky breasts, the hard nipples pressed against the wet material and his favorite part on a woman, the soft underside of her breasts. Somehow, he forced his eyes away from those enticing curves to the flat belly, the cute little navel ring decorating the lightly tanned skin peeking out from beneath her shirt to the slight curves of her hips, and finally down to the decent legs that she probably wanted to kick the shit out of him with. When he was done, he decided to do it all over again.

“Are you done?” Sloane bit out, rudely interrupting him.

“No,” Chase said, smiling, but he was done for now, especially since she’d decided to turn around and storm off, ending his fun for the night.

He considered following her, but he didn’t want to press his luck. She’d entertained him for the night and as much as he’d love to continue with tonight’s festivities, he was actually pretty tired. Yawning, and not really all that concerned that she was going to quit, he rolled into his room, grabbed a pair of boxers and headed to the bathroom, ignoring the rather violent sounds of his new favorite person in the whole wide world packing.

Thinking about the look on her face when she’d stumbled out of that closet, Chase chuckled as he pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside. It took him a few minutes and several tries, but he finally managed to get his shoes and socks off. His pants took a little longer, but soon they joined the rest of his clothes on the floor. His boxer briefs

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