“Chocolate?” Reynolds says, thrusting a cellophane bag in my direction.
“No.”
Arya declines, then changes her mind and holds out her palm. She’s got long slim fingers with fingernails that are painted the color of a dark bruise. I push up the sleeves of my cable-knit sweater, looking for any half-moons left behind by her talons. Regrettably, and lucky for her, none.
She sets the chocolate on her outstretched tongue as she glares at me. The angry expression in her eyes makes almost no impression as the dark treat disappears into her mouth. A testicle is at least twice the size of that chocolate ball, but I have no doubt she’d give my sac an expert suck if I got her on her knees with that mouth open.
I swallow the groan that threatens to emerge. Arya Peralta is the sexiest woman on campus. She’s not my type, but that doesn’t stop my cock from threatening to drip pre-cum anytime she’s within reach.
“Reynolds, Riksen, my office,” Heinrich barks.
“Are you hungry, Arya? Grab some real food, too,” Reynolds says, as though she’s a fucking hostess rather than a reporter at work. “Make yourself a plate. We’ll be right back.” Reynolds grabs her laptop and trots into Heinrich’s office.
Arya licks her plump plum-colored lips and arches a brow. “Tell Cami I’ll meet with her later.”
My hand catches Arya’s arm as she tries to walk away. She’s got information on Casanova I want to hear. “Sit and wait.”
Her expression turns hostile. “Or what?”
I incline my head, so my mouth is closer to her. “Or I’ll track you down later, when there aren’t so many people around.”
The brown of her eyes is so dark it’s hard to distinguish where the pupils end and the color begins. It’s like she’s sucked down a pound of belladonna, which flips the switch on the part of my male brain that finds dilated pupils so fucking attractive. When Arya and I get into a stare-down, it’s almost impossible for me to look away.
“I’m not fresh out of high school anymore, Viking,” she says in a soft, silky voice. “You can’t intimidate me.”
“Poor logic. Fresh out of high school, you weren’t experienced enough to be intimidated. By now, you should know better.”
“You realize I came to talk about Casanova, right? On a scale of ‘one to fuck you’, how tone deaf is it to sexually harass a woman who’s bringing you info on a sadistic serial killer?”
“There’s no proof he’s a sadist.” It’s the truth, but it’s also bullshit. I one-hundred-percent believe Casanova is a violent sexual predator.
She’s also right that a man shouldn’t threaten to catch a girl alone. But Arya’s tongue drips venom, as though she wants to see which of us is tougher. I don’t mind showing her, since she’s pushing my buttons on purpose.
Arya purses her lips. “Stop spewing bullshit. I’m wearing the wrong shoes to wade through it.”
My lips twitch as I glance down at the spiked heels on her suede boots. “Who the hell wears suede to walk through Massachusetts slush?”
“Someone who values style. Speaking of which, the lumberjack you robbed is freezing without his coat.”
“Erik?” Reynolds calls out.
“Don’t leave the newsroom.”
“Kiss my ass,” she whispers.
“Sure. Later tonight works for me. You?” The thought of sucking her supple flesh into my mouth nearly burns away every other thought I’ve ever had.
Settle down. As usual, everything she teases is a lie.
And you’re too busy to play.
* * *
ARYA
Stridingout of the newsroom to the elevator, I wrinkle my nose. The Viking thinks he can give me orders. Reality will soon introduce itself to him.
When I reach the lobby, I text my girls to move up our dinner plans. They’re off campus, and I don’t plan to walk around alone in the dark, so I head to a couch to wait. Plant fronds hang over me, leaving me in the shadows with a view of the elevators.
