“Yeah, sure.I’ll believe that when—”
“Be careful how you finish that sentence, little one,” he warns.
Heat scorches my veins.The termpoke the bearhas never made sense to me, but now I find myself wanting to do just that.Poke this massive grizzly and watch him squirm.
“Why?”I challenge.
Wicked mirth shines from his eyes.Framed by his thick brows and chiseled jaw and lacking the menacing aura of my bullies, his expression wakes parts of me I never knew existed.
“Because I’ll make it come true,” he vows.
“Why?”I breathe.
“It’s too soon for me to answer that, pipsqueak,” he rumbles.
I open my mouth to refute him, but the barely leashed storm brewing in his gaze closes my jaw.
This isn’t me.Sebastian turns me into someone I’m not.I forget too much when I’m around him.
Guilt smothers my arousal.I spin my ring on my finger and close my fist around the gemstone.The sharp edges remind me of life’s cruelties.
“I’m not sorry for flirting, but I am sorry for putting that look in your eyes,” Sebastian says.
I swallow and take a deep breath.
“Thanks.”It’s a lame response, but it’s all I can force myself to say besides, “Let’s get this over with.”
He steps to the far corner of the elevator—which isn’t very far with his bulk taking up most of the space—and says my name.
“What?”I respond.
“You don’t have to sign.I may be desperate for your expertise but—”
“We’ve already discussed the terms.I agreed because they are wildly in my favor.Nothing you said makes me want to back out of our agreement.”
“And if I keep flirting?”
I sigh and roll my eyes.
“You won’t.You’ll get bored after a while and realize you respect my brother too much.Plus, I’m not interested in romance.Give me the cold, hard cash and the benefits.Everything else can suck it.”
He rumbles a noncommittal note, turns, and presses a button on the panel.As the elevator whirs into motion, I swear he mumbles under his breath about him sucking something, but the memory fueling most of my nightmares pops into gory focus.Michael’s voice replays in my mind.The intentions may be polar opposites, but the words are too similar.
I shift my weight from one leg to the other, hoping to aggravate my newest piercing, but the wetness between my thighs amplifies my guilt and shame and increases my nausea, so I dig my nails into my sides and use the fiery pain of my scars to center myself.
We ride the elevator up to the executive floor in silence.The doors open.I blink at the unexpected sight.
The entire floor, sans the large glass corner office and the restrooms, is one big open space.Even the kitchen and recreation area seem effortlessly mixed in with the work spaces.Glass partitions delineate different areas, but everything is visible with a simple sweep from left to right.
Sports-themed posters and paraphernalia stretch as far as the eye can see, but most of the work is focused on administrative stuffs, so no actual equipment clutters the space.
Several people call out friendly greetings.Sebastian responds but doesn’t introduce me, and I silently—and begrudgingly—thank him when he lets me use his body as a shield.
I follow beside and a half-step behind him even when he shortens his stride and slows to match my pace.After closing the door to his office behind us, he gestures to the plush couch in the sitting area and asks if I’d like a beverage.When I shake my head, he grabs the folder and pen off the corner of his desk and places it on the coffee table in front of me.
“Feel free to take your time and read it over,” he says.
The furtive glances of those on the other side of the glass is too much.I flip through the pages and confirm the changes are as I specified before signing and slapping it down on the table.
