Vannah’s beauty is a distraction, one that momentarily yanks me from this worthless battle. She’s a worthy opponent. The fact that she’s still sitting in front of me, wearing a confident shield that matches her daring outfit, attests to that. Her natural bravado sings a melody I’m not familiar with. She spits flames from her eyes regardless of my inability to burn. Relentless and impulsive is a dangerous combination, especially in this woman determined to prove a point. If I let her get too close, I’m likely to demand more than she’s required to provide.
We haven’t spent a second on actual business, and that fact leaves me edgy. There are more pleasurable forms of releasing this tension. Tracing her supple figure solidifies more than my dick. Once the idea forms, I can envision us engaging in a different type of tangle. A fight for control and power as we race toward a similar goal. This would be a more pleasurable way to expend our aggression. Would she be willing?
Based on the flare of her nostrils, the answer is glaring back at me through thin slits. How much more pissed could she get if I make the argument in favor of getting naked? The likelihood that she will accept such a proposition is below zero. She’s likely to claw my eyes out for the suggestion alone. And why shouldn’t she? The treatment she’s received from me leaves plenty to be desired. There isn’t much I admit to lacking, but redeeming qualities are on the short list. Yet I fantasize about bending her over my desk all the same.
I tilt my head, studying her relaxed pose as she shifts in the leather chair. She appears comfortable in this environment, with me. Perhaps she’d be interested in blowing off some of this steam we’re creating.
With a slice through the air, I cut off her pointless ramblings. “What are your thoughts on casual sex?”
Vannah’s expression remains neutral, as if I asked about the weather. “I’m a pretty big fan.”
I steeple my fingers. “How about us sleeping together?”
All semblance of her composure vanishes when she sputters. “Excuse me?”
“Carnal fucking,” I clarify.
A noticeable flush races along her slender throat. “Are you screwing with me?”
Lust becomes an uncaged force, flooding my blood with molten heat. “Not yet. I’m willing to throw anal on the table.”
She blinks at me, remaining silent for several beats. Then her blank mask cracks with a wide smile. Laughter that borders on manic tumbles from her curving lips. “Is that supposed to convince me?”
“Might be your kink.”
“If you think anything of yours is going in my butt, you’re more delusion than a rabid hound.”
I allow my mouth to slant into a smirk, showing off my teeth. “Woof.”
Her mouth opens and shuts on a loop as she seems to struggle with how to respond. “On what planet does someone just blurt out a suggestion like that?”
The bulge in my pants swells with need as Vannah stabs me with more fire. “I’d actually been considering it for several minutes while you were blabbering on about me being a jerk.”
She lets her jaw hang loose. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Oh, don’t pretend like you haven’t imagined it.” I’m pushing her on purpose. Not far enough to cause permanent damage or retaliation. There’s no denying I’m a ruthless asshole, but even I have morals.
Her pert nose wrinkles in clear distaste. Upon closer inspection, a smattering of freckles dot her skin there. “I don’t make a habit of sleeping with clients, not to mention men who are rude and insufferable.”
I take a slow perusal of her fuck-me outfit. “Do you typically wear that dress to the office?”
“You’re skating that harassment line pretty close, buddy.”
“As if your gaze hasn’t strayed below my belt.” Curse my cock for perking up higher at the mention.
Vannah’s eyes snap up to my face. Guilt in the shade of fiery red stains her cheeks. My smirk is waiting for her. “That doesn’t mean anything. I could’ve been looking at your pleats.”
I remain in my reclining position. Might as well give her ample opportunity to peruse my offer. “And you just happen to be focusing on a specific area where those gather at a certain part of my anatomy?”
“You can’t prove anything,” she snaps.
“I don’t feel the need to. We can reach a mutual understanding.”
Vannah folds her hands, clasping tight enough to turn her knuckles white. “Such as?”
“The chemistry isn’t easy to ignore,” I begin. “Our attraction is obvious, fatal or not.”
“That doesn’t mean we act on it. You’re deranged for assuming otherwise.” It’s not my very creative imagination that darkens the blush on her face.
I stroke the soft texture of my lapel, picturing something more supple in my grasp. “Would that stop you from sleeping with me?”
“Even if it didn’t, you’re a client.” Her repetition of that weak defense doesn’t deter me.
“Should I transfer my account to another firm?”
“You wouldn’t dare.” The resentment returns to her gaze with a resounding boom.
I resurrect my glower to combat her ire. “I’m beginning to realize you don’t have an adequate comprehension of how little your involvement matters.”
“Guess what, asshole? I don’t care how little value you give me.”
“You do,” I correct. “If you didn’t, this temper tantrum charade wouldn’t be happening.”
Her chest rises and falls with an agitated exhale. “So, my purpose is interchangeable?”
“More like unnecessary.” My statement is flat, much like her argument.
“Until you want to fuck me.” Vannah is near seething status, if her twitching eyelid counts as a useful measurement.
“Well, yes. I suppose your services would be required for that.”
The sound of her teeth clacking together ricochets between us. “You’re revolting.”
“Not enough to scare you off, though.” I sit forward, the smooth leather creaking at my adjustment. “So, tell me, Ms. Simons. Why are you still here?”
A dull ache spreads from where I’m clenching my jaw. If I don’t ease up on the intensity, a migraine will be pounding into my skull soon. A throbbing temple is the least of my worries at the moment. It’s a challenge to concern myself with anything other than the man glaring at me.
I toss some hair behind my ear, dig deep for reinforcements, and mentally prepare for another gruesome round against him. Scrutinizing him is part of the rallying process. Landon is going for shock value, upping the stakes to make me uncomfortable. Well, I can handle his salacious advances. I push the envelope on a regular basis. For the sake of scorned women, I’m willing to do a lot more than that. This guy has met his match.
“You’re trying to scare me off. I’m not a quitter, Mr. Winters.”
His feral gaze doesn’t waver. “Call me Landon.”
I bat my lashes in an exaggerated fashion. Acting like a flirty ditz seems to grate on his nerves. “No, thank you.”
He scrubs a palm over his stern mouth. “Does verbal sparring get you excited, Savannah?”