Page 8 of Fair Trade
I try.
For the love of God, I try to keep my face impassive.
I didn’t get to where I am in business by not having a good poker face. But I’m unable to hold the heavy breath in my chest as her words play on a loop in my mind.
She’s perfect.
She doesn’t date, and she’s only looking for a good time. This is my dream scenario.
Yet why is it that instead of turning up the charm, I find myself irritated that she was actually considering giving that asshat the time of the day?
“You could do better,” I gruff.
“I’m aware,” she shoots back immediately. Instead of taking offense to my lackluster response, she toys with the rim of her glass as she gives me the look of a predator that likes to play with her food before striking. “And I don’t owe you an explanation. But that scrunched-up face you’re making is going to give you a few extra wrinkles, and I’ll be damned if I’m the reason you leave tonight looking a little less pretty.”
“Did you just call me pre—”
“I came here because I was looking for a moment to myself. To decompress. Yet when the opportunity for a different kind of stress reliever presented itself, I took it into consideration.” I go to interrupt, but she lifts a hand, stopping me. “Again, I don’t owe you this, but in case you were wondering, I am a twenty-nine-year-old woman who can decide to do whatever she wants with her body. If that means fucking a loser who ordered me a fruity cocktail, then it’s my prerogative. And if it’s sending him on his way to fuck his fist tonight?” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, that’s my call too. Are you going to try to judge me for it as if you don’t move the same way?”
Jesus Christ.
I don’t know whether I’ve just been told off or coddled, and the feeling has me speaking recklessly. “Judge you? Woman, I’m more likely to declare my undying love for you than cast judgment.” She eyes me warily, so I continue. “But then I would run into the possibility of being told to fuck my fist tonight, and between you and me—” I lean a little closer. “I have much more interesting ideas about how to use my hands tonight.”
She studies me fiercely, giving nothing away, and for a moment I fear she’s going to see how desperate I am for her.
My life has been a series of calculated risks. I didn’t get to where I am by playing it safe. And if I spend one more second pussy-footing around this woman, I’m going to live to regret it.
“Name,” I demand, using the authoritative voice I usually reserve for the boardroom.
At my hardened tone, something flips in her. If I weren’t so fixated on her every move, I might have missed the subtle moan she tried to keep from escaping her lips. But it’s too late.
And I’m ready to chase her as far as she wants me to.
If her hardening nipples against her thin dress are any indication, she might want to be caught sooner rather than later.
But instead of giving me the name I’m so desperate to hear, she shakes her head slowly, eyes filled with lustful mischief, making my hands itch to touch her bare skin and teach her a lesson. “Nope.”
I groan as I plead, “Are you going to make me beg?”
Her eyes darken as she leans closer, bravely sliding her hands up my thighs. I suck in a harsh breath but don’t dare break eye contact until her face stops just a hairsbreadth from my ear. “Now, now. Don’t start putting any kinky ideas in my head. Because the thought of you on your knees begging might just be the thing that breaks me.”
Fuck. Me.
Did I find a woman with a mouth as dirty as mine?
Impossible. But I’ll gladly take whatever she’s got for me.
“Careful. Don’t start something you can’t finish,” I taunt, hoping to spur her on.
Instead, she almost makes me fall flat on my ass when she cocks her head to the side. “And here I thought a man like you would make it your personal mission to make sure I wouldfinish.” She sighs. “How very disappointing to hear.”
I’m crazed.
I keep fisting my hands and releasing them, hoping to keep them to myself while in public. Something that I may not be able to do if she keeps teasing me like this. So I decide to make her aware of the tightrope we’re currently walking.
I pointedly look at where her hands continue to rest on my thighs. She looks down and her grip on my thighs tightens the moment she sees the bulge straining in my pants.
“Keep playing this game, and I’ll have no choice but to bend you over the bar and give you the spanking you’re asking for.”
