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I gritted my teeth and waited a few seconds to respond. “I’ll have you know that I worked my ass off to get my CPA. School, tests, and two years of slave labor at Arthur and Company. Nobody got me this job at the museum; I earned it. I had a plan, and I executed it.”
“Sure, and your Daddy didn’t make a call to smooth the way?”
“Of course not. He offered, but I wouldn’t let him.”
“So for once, Daddy didn’t smooth out one of life’s bumps for you. You Bensons are all alike. Got a problem? Write a check or make a call, and presto, no more problem.”
“And you never got anywhere on your family name?”
His fists clenched. “I got into the Bureau inspiteof my family name, not because of it.”
There was a story behind the statement, but now wasn’t the time to explore it.
“So tell me what day of the week today is.” He seemed to be making an effort to be calmer.
I shook my head. “What? Can’t tell the day of the week without your watch? It’s Thursday.”
“And that makes it French toast day.”
I couldn’t tell where the conversation was veering off to. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to have any.”
“That’s what makes you not my type. You have a routine and a plan for everything. You made a plan to get the job. You make a plan for breakfast based on the day of the week.”
I clenched my teeth, because he was spot on about my morning routine.
“You probably don’t even allow yourself to fart if it’s not on the plan. You’re incapable of spontaneity, incapable of taking even the slightest risk. You’re like a cyborg.”
The fucker was smiling.Smiling, of all things.
“You think I don’t ever do anything spontaneous and take a risk?”
“That’s what I said. There’s no rain in the forecast, and yet you pack an umbrella in your purse.”
“That’s called being prepared.”
“That’s called being anal. I bet you’ve never done anything outrageous just for the fuck of it. Daddy’s perfect little girl, that’s who you are.”
Now he was being insulting. I huffed. “I can do something outrageous if I want. And as for risky, isn’t being the bait on the end of your hook taking a bit of a chance?”
He nodded. “I’ll give you that, but that’s not what I’m talking about. When was the last time you went skinny dipping?”
I didn’t have an answer for that, because I never had.
“I’ll bet it’s a big day for you when you wear shoes that don’t match your outfit.”
I crossed my arms and fumed.
“See? Daddy’s little princess can’t name one just-for-the-fuck-of-it thing she’s done in her entire life.”
He was being impossible. But his arrows hadn’t missed their mark. It hurt to think how right he was about how I’d lived my life. But that could change.
I pulled my nightshirt over my head, strode to the shower door, and joined him. “How’s this for just for the fuck of it?” Fear gripped me, and my knees shook as I stood in front of him, more vulnerable than I’d ever been.
His eyes went wide, lust burning in them.
I might have taken outrageous way too far. A quick glance down showed the effect my naked form was having on him. A vascular response they called it—tied to the sympathetic nervous system—something that couldn’t be faked or hidden. Blood surged, and his cock grew, as if reaching for me.
My hardened nipples echoed his response, and it wasn’t because I was cold.
