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“One, I’m not superman. I don’t move that fast.” I have, but I keep it to myself. “And two, no. I wouldn’t have. I’m with you.”
“You wouldn’t be if you hadn’t hired me.”
“Fine,” I say. “I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t need to show I’m responsible and all the rest, but would I go home with her? Fuck no. She was hot, I won’t lie, but I wasn’t trying to pick her up. I was trying to get out of it.”
“Out of picking her up?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Perry. No, I was trying to get out of the flirtation. She came on like cheap perfume. Way too strong and clingy. Not my style.”
“You like class now?”
I stick my face close to hers, so our lips almost touch. “I thought I did. After all, I like you.”
She moves, not letting me go, but her head comes down and she places her forehead against my chest.
“Crap. You drive me crazy, Ryder. Why the hell do you get under my skin like this?”
“You were jealous.” I don’t know why I push that, but I like it when she sparks and spits fire. She’s magnificent that way.
She’s magnificent a lot of ways, but the fire stokes mine and yeah, I’m doubting I can change. Because I want her. Right or wrong, right now I want her.
Elliot lifts her head and looks at me. “I’m not jealous.”
But her cheeks darken and a flush whispers up her throat and I’m fascinated. I’m calling her jealous to get a rise, but what if she actually is?
Oh, yeah, definitely turned on. Shit. I’m a terrible person. Because I want to keep poking until she loses control.
Elliot winds her hands up around my neck then. “Part of this is you knowing how to handle yourself in public, of making situations work for you.”
“What—”
“So this time, I’ll do it for you. We have a story to sell here, let’s sell it.”
“What are we going to do? Have sex here and now?”
“No, Ryder. As thrilling as that sounds, not to mention hot—”
“Sarcasm.”
“—that’s a definite no. So, call a car and take us to your place.”
“You live right here.”
She smiles and toys with a button on my shirt. “True. But we’re going to your place so I can seduce you.”
Chapter Eighteen
Elliot
The shock and dumbfounded expression on his face is laughable, or would be, if it was funny. But it isn’t. Because we have a problem.
“What?” He frowns. “Seduce? What?”
“Is that the way to speak to your fiancée?” I can’t believe I just said that. People are around us and his hands are still on me
“You just accused me of hitting on another woman.”
“And you told me,” I say, drawing him even closer, so close the only thing separating us are clothes and I’m pretty sure that he might be getting turned on, “that she hit on you. So, considering we’re engaged—which telling me without a ring is pretty shitty and something to be rectified soon—why don’t you get that car?”
