“Hey! Put me down, goddammit!” I snap, punching his spine with a clenched fist.
He doesn’t even grunt.
Just strides down a corridor like he owns the world, which, judging by the way people scramble to get out of his way, he basically does.
He kicks open a door and dumps me on my feet.
I tear my gaze from him long enough to gauge my surroundings. We’re inside a private lounge that’s way too sleek for someone who just sweat-bathed an unwilling audience. Dark leather couches. Mini-fridge. Wall of mirrors.
His personal lair.
I stumble, straighten, and bare my teeth at him. “Neanderthal much?”
Unfazed, he strolls to the fridge, pops a bottle of sparkling water, and pours it into a glass. He hands it to me like a peace offering.
I narrow my eyes, watching the liquid like it’s laced with Rohypnol.
“You think I’d drug you?” His silver gaze sharpens, something like genuine offense flickering there.
For reasons I cannot explain, my stomach flips. Because as much as I should not care, I don’t like that I might’ve just insulted him.
Then I snap the hell out of it.
“You have some nerve, pretending you’re offended. And hey, forgive me if getting abducted into your man cave doesn’t exactly inspire trust.”
His jaw flexes, then loosens. “Fair.”
That… calms something jagged inside me. Against my better judgment, I take the glass. One sip. Cold, crisp, real. Not poison. Not enough to be roofied.
He lounges back on the couch like a king with his prize. “So tell me. Do you think I go around giving every woman whatever she wants?”
I arch a brow. “I don’t know you from a blade of grass, buddy. Do you?”
“My answer depends.”
“On what?”
He leans forward, voice dropping to that growl that rattled me on stage. “On whether you throat punch me if I said you’re the first. And I plan on making you the last.”
I roll my eyes so hard I’m amazed they don’t roll right out of my head.
He smirks. But for a second—just a flicker—something vulnerable cuts through. Like maybe it actually stung.
Which only confuses the hell out of me, because this is the last man on earth I should want to understand.
I down the rest of the drink, set the glass on the table with a decisive thunk, and push to my feet. “Well, thanks for the hospitality, caveman, but I’ll be going now.”
His eyes sharpen. “You seriously don’t want this gig?”
“No. I seriously don’t.”
I march to the door, palm on the handle.
“Wait.” His voice snaps across the room like a whip.
I freeze.
“Remember when I told Freddie to give you whatever you want?”
