a taste of my own medicine isn’t a lesson I appreciate. The bland mask I’ve trademarked slips to reveal a sneer. “Are you offering?”
She arches a slim brow. “That depends.”
I curl my hand into a fist, squeezing to alleviate the brewing pressure. “Playing coy doesn’t suit you.”
She rolls her eyes and tucks the draping fabric at her neckline, gaining some semblance of modesty. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
“And this little lamb act won’t grant you any favors. I’m all lion, baby.”
Vannah straightens with a huff. “Your flattery could use some vast improvements.”
“It wasn’t meant as a compliment.”
She holds up a palm. “Don’t worry, Mufasa. I’m not under the impression that you’ll ever pay me praise on purpose.”
“It pleases me to hear that you’re finally coming to terms with our roles in this deal.” Prior to concluding our initial meeting, we managed to reach an agreement. Or so I thought.
Vannah narrows her emerald eyes, fierce and ferocious. “Let’s not pretend I’m willing to surrender. Our stakes are nowhere near equal. Also, it’s hilarious how you think I can be tamed.”
“Just give it time, sugar. I’ll prove a lot more than that.”
“Stop calling me that. I hate it.”
“You shouldn’t have told me.” I can practically feel the gleam reflecting from my gaze.
“Dammit,” she spits. “You can drop the asshole act.”
I snort. “That would require me to be pleasant during certain circumstances, which I can confirm isn’t the case. I’m not sure what gave you the impression that today would be any different. What do I have to gain from being polite?”
She taps her glossy lips. “Common courtesy?”
Another grunt escapes me. “Overrated. I’m somewhat of an acquired taste.”
“No shit? I wouldn’t have guessed that the flavor of rich prick doesn’t appease everyone’s palate.”
That almost gets a chuckle from me. Instead, I smooth a thumb down my red tie. The color might not be due to random selection, after all. “So crass, Ms. Simons.”
“Thought I was sweet?”
“Delectable indeed, sugar.” I lick my lips for emphasis.
She squints, taking inventory of the blank expression on my face. Not sure what she’s expecting to find. “Maybe you’re not a total lost cause. I could probably tolerate you after three glasses of wine, especially if earplugs are provided.”
Vannah’s beauty is a distraction, one that momentarily yanks me from this worthless battle. She’s a worthy opponent. The fact that she’s still sitting in front of me, wearing a confident shield that matches her daring outfit, attests to that. Her natural bravado sings a melody I’m not familiar with. She spits flames from her eyes regardless of my inability to burn. Relentless and impulsive is a dangerous combination, especially in this woman determined to prove a point. If I let her get too close, I’m likely to demand more than she’s required to provide.
We haven’t spent a second on actual business, and that fact leaves me edgy. There are more pleasurable forms of releasing this tension. Tracing her supple figure solidifies more than my dick. Once the idea forms, I can envision us engaging in a different type of tangle. A fight for control and power as we race toward a similar goal. This would be a more pleasurable way to expend our aggression. Would she be willing?
Based on the flare of her nostrils, the answer is glaring back at me through thin slits. How much more pissed could she get if I make the argument in favor of getting naked? The likelihood that she will accept such a proposition is below zero. She’s likely to claw my eyes out for the suggestion alone. And why shouldn’t she? The treatment she’s received from me leaves plenty to be desired. There isn’t much I admit to lacking, but redeeming qualities are on the short list. Yet I fantasize about bending her over my desk all the same.
I tilt my head, studying her relaxed pose as she shifts in the leather chair. She appears comfortable in this environment, with me. Perhaps she’d be interested in blowing off some of this steam we’re creating.
With a slice through the air, I cut off her pointless ramblings. “What are your thoughts on casual sex?”
Vannah’s expression remains neutral, as if I asked about the weather. “I’m a pretty big fan.”
I steeple my fingers. “How about us sleeping together?”
All semblance of her composure vanishes when she sputters. “Excuse me?”
“Carnal fucking,” I clarify.
A noticeable flush races along her slender throat. “Are you screwing with me?”
Lust becomes an uncaged force, flooding my blood with molten