Page 22 of Arrogant Bastard

“That’s absurd. And I’m not taking you to work with me.”

His touch on my hair is gentle. Soothing. “Okay. Then we’re staying put. Now we can keep fighting or we can go to bed. I haven’t even started to take the edge off this insane need for you. I’m not sure if I ever will. Kissing you only made me crave you more. But if that’s the only offer on the table, I’m good to go again.”

He’s wearing me down. It’s another skill of his that’s achieved brilliant results in the past. I watched him use it in the field, watched him wield that and his killer Irish charm on women. He’s never used it this hard on me before, probably because I was such an easy conquest he didn’t need to. But now I’m poised on that familiar knife-edge of calling fuck it and throwing myself at him.

All-night sex with Killian. The first time it happened, I stupidly believed it was a one-off thing. He quickly proved me wrong. The unrelenting ache between my thighs urges me to let him prove me wrong again. And again.

My head feels like it weighs a ton when I force myself to respond in the negative. “I can’t just not turn up to work. He’s not going to buy that something’s not wrong.”

He goes still, and the fingers in my hair turn that little bit punitive. “He?” he breathes warningly.

“Axel. My boss.”

“Why won’t he believe you?”

Because he saw beneath my surface within moments that first time years ago, when the need for numbness drove me to Viper Red, the edgy, alternative nightclub in Harlem also owned by Axel. “Because I have a meeting with him at midday. A meeting I arranged. I can’t just not turn up.”

“Then call in sick.”

“I’m not sick. Besides, he won’t believe me.”

“Why not? Will he come looking for you? Do you warrant special treatment or is he that caring a boss?”

“Maybe I do. Maybe not.”

He just stares at me, and I know his focus has shifted from me to work on a different threat. Axel.

I groan and curse under my breath. “Fine. Give me my phone. I’ll call and put it off.”

The speculation doesn’t wane even a fraction, although his hand drops from my hair to capture my hand. He tugs me after him back to the study and hands me a black phone that looks like it belongs in sci-fi movie. “It’s encrypted. Just in case.”

I take the phone and dial.

“Put it on speaker,” Killian commands, a second before the call is picked up.

“Rutherford.” The name is snapped in typical Axel Rutherford fashion. At this time of the morning, the likelihood that I’ve disturbed his horizontal playtime with Cleo is very high. He doesn’t sound pleased.

“It’s me, B.” Killian lifts an eyebrow at the name. I ignore it. “I need to cancel our meeting this morning,” I say briskly before he can say anything the man in front of me might misinterpret.

A knot of silence. “Why?”

“Something’s come up. I might need tonight off too.”

Further silence. “I see. Everything all right?” There’s tension in his voice now, not dissimilar to Killian’s when he’s suspicious. I glance furtively at Killian, and his eyes are narrowed in gleaming speculation.

Shit. That’s all I need—two alpha males butting heads over me. My grip tightens on the phone. “I’m fine. I’ll reschedule and let you know.”

“You do that.”

“Bye.” I hang up quickly.

Killian takes the phone from me and stares down at it for a moment before he looks at me. “You want to discuss him now or later?”

“I want to discuss him never. You got what you wanted, me as your prisoner for the next twelve hours. After that I’m outta here. But if you think I’m going to use that time to play catch-up, you’re sorely mistaken. I’m going to bed.”

He trails me to the guest bedroom and firmly wedges a foot in the door when I try to shut it in his face. “Sorry, sweetheart, the door stays open.”

My exasperation has reached epic proportions but it’s been a long night, so I simply drop my hand from the frame and stalk away to the huge bed dominating the room.

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