Page 63 of Mr. Wicked

“Because it’ll look awfully strange if we’re in a relationship and I post pictures of us and someone clicks on your profile, checks your followers, and sees that you’re not following me.”

“Who the fuck would waste their time doing that?”

“Half the women in this world. You’d be surprised at what they do and the kind of information they want to find out.”

“Jesus.”

There was that word again, his tone telling me how bothered he was by this.

“I’m following you,” I admitted.

Unless he had all his notifications turned off, he would have been alerted that on the date I’d signed the contract, I’d followed him on Instagram. That seemed like the only account he had, since I couldn’t find him on TikTok or Faceframe.

His jaw clenched, like he was grinding his teeth. “Are you telling me I have to follow you back?”

“You say that like it’s a death sentence.” The man couldn’t help himself. He had to make every situation so painfully challenging. “But yes, that’s what I’m telling you.” And the way I was about to shift the conversation, giving him another order, was going to turn him even grumpier. “What are you doing after you drop me off?”

“I’m meeting the guys at a strip club. Why?”

I had nothing against strip clubs.

I’d been to a few myself.

But everything about what he’d just said annoyed the hell out of me. From the pleasure in his voice to the instant reply to the thought of him getting a lap dance.

“Seriously?” I groaned. “And Laura approved that? What happens if one of the strippers snaps a pic of you and it goes viral—”

“I was joking, Jovana.” He slowed for the stop sign and turned toward me. “But I’m glad you’re so concerned with what the fuck I do.” His eyes were on me again, and this time I felt them straight through my chest. “For the record, my actions don’t warrant a lecture from you. You’re not my mother and I’m a grown-ass man. If I want to go to a strip club, I will.”

My blood was boiling.

“I’m sacrificing a year of my life to help you rebuild your name and your company’s number of memberships. I don’t care how much you’re paying me—this is about you, not me. So, no, you’re not going to risk this by getting caught at a strip club where the media will go bananas if they get their hands on a shot of you. This isn’t the time to be rebellious or an asshole, asshole.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “But you know what you will do? You’ll come up to my apartment instead of just dropping me off, and you’ll properly meet my roommate, Sloane.”

He moved his hand to the top of the steering wheel and shifted into first, the car moving forward. “And here I thought you were going to take me upstairs and give me your pussy.”

“That’s the last thing you’ll ever get from me.”

He released a blow of air. “I assume the introduction is an order too?”

Satisfied, I let my arms drop. “In a major way.”

“You’ve turned into quite the alpha, haven’t you, Jovana?”

“Someone needs to keep your ass in check despite how grown you think you are.”

“Jesus.”

Third time.

But this time, I’d won.

He pulled into a spot beside my building and parked, the engine purring just before he turned it off.

Before he opened his door, I said, “Remember, this mission is to show Sloane how obsessed you are with me. From the moment we get out of this car, I need you to be Team Jovana. Got it?”

“As opposed to?”

“The dick you’ve been for most of the night.”

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