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Three dots appear. He’s typing a reply and I think I might be sick.
I’m going to pick you up from work today, he says.
I stare at those words.
He’s going to… pick me up… from work.
In response to a picture of my tits.
The picture he requested.
What the hell is that supposed to mean? I just did the most embarrassing and risky thing I’ve ever done and he responds like there’s no picture of me shoving my tits at him? I don’t even know how to respond. I’m flabbergasted. I’m utterly in shock.
I type,All that stuff better be built.I send it over, turn off my phone, and shove it in my pocket.
I stare into the mirror at myself.
Ford Arc is such a piece of garbage.
I went out on a limb there and tried to do something sexy, even though I’m so incredibly self-conscious that I’m trembling right now, and I’ve never done something like that before, and he replies with something about giving me a ride home like we’re talking logistics.
Seriously, what the hell is with this man?
Rage wells up and rushes through me. That asshole knows what he’s doing. He’s fucking with me because he can. He has way more experience in relationships than I do and he knows that when a girl sends him a picture of her boobs, the response she wants isn’t something about driving her home after work. The response she wants is glowing praise and maybe a couple comments about how hard his dick is, but mostly glowing-fucking-praise.
Ford can go to hell.
I turn around and storm out of the bathroom and throw myself into work and think about all the ways I’m going to murder him when I see him later.
Chapter 16
Kat
Ford pulls up in a big limo at exactly five thirty, and I’m waiting out front for him with a thousand thoughts swirling through my head.
I want to stab him in the throat.
No, I want to stab him in the gutsthenin the throat.
No, I want to chop off his dick—well, maybe not his dick—okay, I want to hurt him, and I want to make him suffer, and I’m sopissed. Maybe he’s used to girls with more confidence and experience than me, but I’ve never put myself out there like that before and I feel like he asked me to do a trust fall then watched as I dropped to the ground. Now he’s here to laugh at me for being so pathetic.
I yank the door open and get in. The lights are dim and the windows are tinted nearly black. The heavy-duty privacy screen is up and I can’t see or hear the driver.
Ford’s sitting on the center bench in a white shirt and black slacks, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his tattooed forearms pulsing with muscles, his top button undone to show off a hintof his chest, and shit, he’s gorgeous and looking at me like he wants to rip me to pieces. I refuse to let the sight of that freaking gorgeous man stop me from unleashing the tirade I’ve built up all day. I slam the door behind me and sit on the bench across from him and glare with all my might.
He says nothing. I say nothing. The limo pulls out and drives slowly away from the farm.
The tension is killing me. He’s just staring like he can’t help himself. The bastard should have an apology on his tongue right now. Instead, it’s all silence and a brooding stare. His eyes drift to my mouth, my throat, down to my breasts—
That does it. I finally explode. “You are such a piece of shit, you know that?”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?”
“I sent you the most vulnerable and embarrassing picture of my entire life and you respond with something aboutpicking me up from worklike we were having a normal conversation.”
“Kat—”
“No, Ford, listen to me,” I say and I can’t let him steamroll me or interrupt me right now. I never, ever stand up for myself, but I can’t let this man walk all over me and set myself up for a miserable life of doing whatever this asshole says. “Maybe you don’t get it but I haven’t been in a ton of relationships, and you can’t just demand that I send you naked sexy pictures and then not respond when I actually work up the courage to freaking do it. Do you have any idea how humiliated I felt all day? I was just thinking about it and obsessing and, god, I’m so mad at you for being such a thoughtless asshole and—”
