Cocky Fiance(5)

By: T.L. Smith & Melissa Jane

She fucking huffed, and it took all my might not to smirk.

Britta could be sexy and cute, all wrapped up in one dangerous little bundle.

“You ready?” I asked, hoping to deter her.

“That’s all?” Her perfect brows shot up in admonishment.

“I’m not here to discuss your love life, Britta.”

I said that, but I would love nothing more than to tell her who she could and could not date. And in my opinion, that would be no one.

“You mean you’re not here to discuss it with me, but you will my brother?”

I met her head on, my face blank. “Yes.”

Her nose scrunched slightly without her even knowing. “My brother keeps telling me to date,” she started, unable to disguise her displeasure. “But if men are anything like you two I’d lose my mind.”

She started to walk back out the door and my mouth stopped her. “So, you’d rather men like Roman?”

Britta paused, her back to me, shoulders stiff. I’d hit a nerve and I was a prick for saying it.

“I suppose if you’ve never been in love before, you wouldn’t know what it’s like.”

“Oh!” This time I smirked. “I thought you did love me, babe.”

This time she turned, anger long since faded, her cheeks reddened with embarrassment, a small smile playing on her lips. “It was in the heat of the moment, and those words slipped out,” she said, referring to the phone call.

“Well, at least one of us sounds convinced,” I challenged, watching the red deepen. It gave me a sick form of pleasure watching her squirm under my gaze. And she did just that, unsure whether to meet my penetrative eyes or continue her path back to her office.

“Meeting, Britta...” I finally said, reluctantly cutting the sexual tension between us.

She gave a small nod, cleared her throat and walked her fine ass down the hall, albeit a little unsteady.

“AND THEN SHE GOT DOWN on her knees, creamy white tits in full view, and showed me just how appreciative she was...” The jackass sitting across from us laughed, his flat palm slapping the table at his own sick humor. “If only all women could be like that.”

Beside me, Britta’s stony face said it all. She was sitting across from David Renshaw, but she may as well have been invisible as he retold the chauvinistic story in order to garner a few laughs. Or perhaps he was very well aware of her presence and got off on making her uncomfortable. Britta was less uncomfortable and more outraged. Her tense fingers wound tightly around the pencil that threatened to break. Her unimpressed stare enough to frighten the best of men. But Renshaw? He was unfazed.

He was President of the Marksman department stores, the leading supplier of Carnage Lingerie. It was an unfortunate business relationship which was barely tolerable, but our monthly meetings were required to ensure both parties were living up to their ends of the bargain.

Still laughing, his puffy face turned red as the men next to him shared his joviality.

They continued sharing crude jokes about their poor conquests, when Britta turned to me and whispered through ventriloquist’s lips, “I hope the next girl bites his cock off.”

My lips twitched in an attempt to hide my own laugh. Leaning back in the chair, legs stretched in front, I locked eyes with her. She smiled despite the frustration, knowing I was humored by her joke.

“You’re a dangerous woman, Britta Valentino.”

“Oh?” Her beautiful smile widened, revealing perfect teeth. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“I wish I did know,” I dared. “Not the cock biting bit, though.”

This time it was Britta’s turn to laugh. In fact, she snorted so loudly, the three Marksman men ceased their loud and obnoxious conversation, intrigued by our own.

“What’d we miss?” Renshaw asked, smiling, eyes narrowed as he studied us.

“Nothing of benefit,” I said, and Britta bit down hard on her bottom lip.

And goddamn did that make my cock twitch. Under the scrutinising stares of the three Marksmen, I imagined thrusting inside Britta as she bit that same luscious lip.

“Well...” David cleared his throat, “... let’s continue this negotiation. We can be assured that adding floor space to your expanding line can only benefit us both.”

“Not only the expansion but—”

I was cut off by the sudden violent vibration on the mahogany table. Britta’s face flushed red with embarrassment as all eyes fell on her. Sheepishly, she retrieved the cell and cast a glance at the screen. The redness of her cheeks paled until white. Her worried eyes looked to mine for a brief moment before she slid the cell into her handbag. Her knee bounced in agitation, and clearly whatever she’d just read had caused Britta quite the disruption.