Avery sighed, his fingers thrumming on top of the Kramer file. Was this guy writing a fucking book?
“Joe Hayes.”Thump, thump, thump, thump. “Joe Hayes.”Thump, thump, thump, thump.“I got nothin’.”
The bubbles stopped again, and a text appeared.
Unknown: All of them.
“So not in the mood for this motherfucker.” He stabbed a message, “Suck my dick.” His thumb hovered over Send for a long moment, then landed on backspace.
There had to be something he wanted from this guy, prick or not, or he wouldn’t have made the offer.
Avery: I’m sorry to hear that, Joe, but if you’ll email a list of your concerns, I’m confident we can reach a mutually beneficial agreement.
There. Problem solved.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Nothing.
He reread his message. Perfectly professional.
Unknown: It’s Jo. Not Joe.
Picky, picky.But he scrolled up to look at the first text. Shit. He’d been too distracted to notice the missing E.
Another text came through before he could think of a way to appeal to Jo-without-an-E’s business sense. Some of his fellow accountants, male or female, had sticks permanently shoved up their asses.
Unknown: But then you’re a dick, so why would you remember my name?
Avery blinked.
A bit harsh, don’t you think?
Unknown: You got me fired, asshole.
Avery sat up straight. “Legs?”
It had been two weeks since he’d left his business card with her co-worker. He’d given up on hearing from her. Honestly, he hadn’t really thought she’d reach out. But he’d had to try. The devastation in her eyes when she’d asked him to leave her alone had gutted him. He’d fucked up.
Attempting to unfuck what he’d done by trying to talk to her boss had been a waste of time. The woman was as cold as ice.And it wasn’t until he returned to his office that he realized he’d forgotten to ask for her name.
He opened his contact list.
Jo Hayes. It had a strong, tough, don’t fuck with me feel to it, which pretty much described the sassy, hot headed woman.
“Nah.” He liked Legs better. Sleek, hot, passionate. And in his fantasies… Fuck, he’d rubbed out more than one to images of the long-legged siren.
His dick stirred as he closed his eyes and pictured her in his bed. Soft pale skin bared for his touch, dark red hair splayed across the black sheets like fire in a midnight sky. Icy blue eyes melting into warm pools of need as she spread those magnificent legs and whispered in that low, raspy voice all the filthy things she wanted him to do to her.
He blew out a long breath and shook his head to clear it. He might want Legs, but he needed Jo. And somehow, he’d managed to piss her off again. Still…
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
That she’d reached out was a good sign. It meant she needed his help.
Not a good thing, asshole.
But he was just as desperate. And this was his chance to make things right, to appease his guilty conscience. One stone for two birds. Or was it two birds with one stone?
