AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No clue.”
It takes everything I have not to walk out right now. The audacity of this man to summon me out here and play me cold.
“So why the hell am I here?” I inquire, the tightness of frustration piling in my chest. “You wanted me. You spent months getting me. Well, here I am. Are we doing this or not?”
“You,” he says slowly, pinning me with a hard gaze, “ask an awful lot of questions. If I didn’t know better, I would think you’re excited to fuck me, Julia.”
The way he says my name should be illegal. He says it like he knows me intimately. The letters roll off his tongue like he’s tasting each of them. My mood darkens by the second, and Gus seems to grow more relaxed in his seat. His posture is loose and lazy as he observes me over the rim of his drink.
“Good thing you know better,” I snap before I let out a deep exhale. Drumming my fingers on the cushion next to me, I take a surveying glance around the living room. “Well, is this going to take long?” I finally pose, all passive aggressive petulance. “Because if it is, I downloaded three books for the flight over. Didn’t get to finish them. I’ll grab my purse.”
I move like I’m about to stand when he lets out a sigh. “Can’t a man drink his wine and enjoy looking at you in silence? You’re beautiful, Julia,” he drawls—and he has the nerve to sound bored.
More annoyingly, his minute compliment makes my stomach flutter. Contrary to popular belief, I am human. And when a man that fucking fine offers a compliment, it does wondrous things to the ego.
My eyes meet his across the room, staring straight into his pupils, tacitly informing him that he doesn’t intimidate me.
“Fine, Daddy.” I take an extended drink. “You can look all you want.”
Gus’s façade finally splits. His nostrils flare when I call him Daddy—and I make a mental note. It’s a weapon for my arsenal, which I’m steadily stockpiling.
“I’ll be doing much more than looking tonight,” he murmurs, his voice rumbling now that I’ve poked hard enough to awaken the bear.
“Prove it,” I dare.
When he rises out of his seat, my heart races and I want to tell my stupid, slutty heart to get it together because we cannot give this man the satisfaction of knowing he does anything to us. But he strolls around the table, slowly and assuredly, like he’s prowling. It’s been a long time since a man approached me with so much authority. Dominance. Challenge. His posture looms and I can’t do anything about my racing heart.
Whatever. Go off, heart. Do your thing.
He occupies the space next to me, making the cushion shift with his weight. The scent of his cologne surrounds me once again in a heady, masculine haze. He rests his arm along the back of the couch and places his hand on my chin. I hold my breath, anticipation now building. Languidly, he draws my face to his, bringing me in for a kiss…
…that never comes.
“Well look at that,” he murmurs softly, his lips mere inches from mine, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath. The gratification drips from every syllable he utters. “You were ready and willing.”
I take in the obnoxiously self-assured man in front of me—the one who just exposed me as a horny, needy liar who actually wants him to touch her no matter how much she pretends otherwise. My lips part, searching for words that won’t come. With each passing second, his shit-eating grin presses into his features.
In a split-second decision, I raise my hand back to slap him—and am once again caught off guard when he catches my wrist, abruptly stilling my arm.
“Now, that’s not very nice,” he hisses, clutching my wrist with minimal force, but still enough to keep me in his grip.
“Well, I’m not a nice girl. Let go of me.”
“Do you slap a lot of men?” He still hasn’t let go.
I don’t. I never do. I literally never have.
“Only when they deserve it,” I reply, hoping to sound convincing.
A tick of a smirk eases onto his lips. “Do you promise to be good?” he asks, even though he knows the answer.
I pull my hand back, trying and failing to break free. “Hell no.”
Gus raises an eyebrow and his small, nearly imperceptible smirk lingers. “Might be more fun that way,” he murmurs before he relaxes his grip and carefully places my hand on my own thigh.
Exasperated, I rise from the couch, grab my glass of wine, and toss back the entire thing in a swift gulp. A few thousand dollars in a few seconds. When I look at Gus, he’s leaning back nonchalantly, watching me with interest.
“Why so mad, Julia?” he inquires, acting innocent.
