Page 13 of Meet Your Match
“I imagine your ego is inflated enough to handle the blow.”
Vince smirked, his eyes trailing down the length of me. And just like that night at the gala, he took his time, not even a little shame finding him as he let his gaze linger on every inch of my skin. His Adam’s apple bobbed before he pushed the door open even farther, his eyes snapping up to meet mine.
“Come inside, Maven.”
It wasn’t a request, but a command — one I felt like a bolt of lightning cast down from Zeus himself. I wet my lips, resisting the urge to argue since I’d have to work with the asshole for the foreseeable future.
With a contained sigh, I slid past him, hugging the opposite edge of the door frame so I wouldn’t brush up against his half-naked body. He seemed to notice, too, because he wore that damn smirk again when the door was shut and I was inside his condo.
I, however, wasn’t smiling at all, not when I took what I could see of the expansive penthouse.
The architectural design was sleek and masculine, dark metals mixing with rich natural woods to create a space that felt as cozy as it did dangerous. I’d walked directly into the living area, which was decorated with expensive modern furniture and eclectic art that was tasteful and sparse.
The windows were the art I was most drawn to, though, reaching from the floor all the way to the ceiling and showcasing a bright orange glow slowly rising beyond the lights of downtown Tampa. The city was stirring to life, the darkness being overtaken by the warm sun that would bring another hot, humid October day.
It was silent, save for the soft sound of a beat-heavy R&B song that started with a deep voice singing melodically in English, but then slid into French and Arabic as the song progressed. The music set a distinct vibe as my eyes trailed the space, from the decorative fireplace that I was sure was never used for heat, to the spotless, sleek kitchen.
But my eyes didn’t linger much on the carefully decorated space. Instead, they snagged on the messiest corner in the entire condo.
It was the area designed to be used as a dining area, but instead, it was an explosion of pottery.
It was also the most warm and inviting space inside the otherwise cool and clean room.
An unfinished wood table was covered with clay, metal tools I didn’t know the name of, and half-finished bowls,vases, mugs, and more. Next to it sat a potter’s wheel, the pedal and edges of it covered in the same specks of clay that decorated the table. There was also an electric kiln, along with shelves and shelves of everything from supplies just waiting to be made into something to fully finished pieces of art.
“Go ahead,” Vince said, shaking me from my trance. “Take your best shot.”
I turned in a daze and realized my lips had curled into a soft smile from taking in the pottery corner. It slipped when I found Vince leaning a hip against the edge of his kitchen island, his eyes curious where they watched me as he sipped something hot from the mug in his hand.
A mug I had no doubt he had molded himself.
It was oddly shaped, but beautifully colored and glazed, and he’d made it. He’d created it from raw materials with hands that were usually wrapped around a stick, or punching an opponent in the nose.
Without thinking, withoutasking, I pulled out my camera. I took only enough time to adjust a couple settings for the low light before I snapped a photo of him.
He chuckled. “Okay, not the kind of shot I was referring to, but I guess it’s better than the alternative.”
“Sorry,” I said, looking down at the camera in my hands.
Why did I suddenly feel shy, as if I’d seen him fully naked or indisposed?
Maybe it was because that little corner of creation felt like the most vulnerable part of him, and I’d walked right into it without warning.
“It’s fine,” he said. “I imagine that’s something I’ll need to get used to for this…” He waved his hand in the air. “Whole ordeal. Pictures and videos when I least expect them.”
I offered a smile. “I should have warned you. I just…” I paused, rolling my lips together before I pointed at the mug in his hand. “You made that, didn’t you?”
He didn’t even look down. “I did.”
“It’s beautiful.”
I said the words before I thought better of them, and he cocked a brow in surprise.
That.Thatwas why I much preferred to be thought of as a bitch than anything else. Because in one moment, with just a touch of softness showing, I’d exposed my neck. And now, Vince was looking at me like his prey rather than his opponent.
I slung my camera around my neck, sniffing and tearing my gaze from his as I looked around. “Anyway, I guess just… go about your usual routine. I’ll ask questions when I have them, and take a lot of pictures and videos. When I know your schedule better, I’d like to steal you for some interviews, and maybe some fluff content for the podcast. If there’s ever anything you’re doing that you don’t want on camera, make sure to tell me beforehand.”
“So I can request things to be off the record?” he asked, and I didn’t miss the salacious smile that accompanied that comment.
