Page 181 of Crazy for this Girl

Literally.

“Sweetheart, I promise you”—I bow forward to make sure my next words are perfectly clear—"I will fuck you in every way possible both personally and professionally.”

“Wanna make a bet?” Laynee has the balls to hold her hand out for me to shake.

Now I’m confused.

There’s no teasing to her expression now, and Laynee was always a competitive little brat that liked to try and make me squirm.

I remember one Fourth of July we organized a pizza-eating contest and she actually made me choke on a piece when she deep-throated one and had me half a slice down.

“Laynee…tell me you’re messing with me right now.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Laynee.”

“I wasn’t handed a business, but I might be able to buy one.”

My nostrils flare at her comeback even after she knows I didn’t want to be here at this company. “How?”

“I’ll have over a million dollars when I’m—”

“That’s if you finish out your two-year contract with me,” I retort sourly. “Which you just said you wanted out of.”

“How much do I get for the time I’ve been here?” I glower at her. My fingers are itching to grab that sweet little face and kiss the shit out of it.

However, we’re talking more than we normally do, and I don’t want to screw that up now, do I?

“I’ll have to get a calculator,” I leer through my teeth, counting to ten in my head and remembering to breathe.

Laynee rises from my lap and pushes my laptop farther onto the desk. Then she turns to face me, propping her ass on the edge and hitting me with a serious look. “Can we revise the contract?”

“Why the hell would I want to do that?”

She casually lifts a shoulder. “Because it’d get you what you want.”

“I want you, Laynee. What else or how else would you like me to show you that? Do you want me to sign over this company to you because I will. You want me to work under you, because, baby, I got no problem being under you in any capacity.”

“Cal, be serious and listen.” She places both of her palms along the surface of my desk, looking hella good right on it. “It’ll still get me to stay within your company for two years.”

“With what? What do you want?”

Her lips lift into a cunning smile when she has one of those so-called good ideas of hers. “I’ll draw up terms. You asked me to go to dinner with you, right? Does that offer still stand?”

“Yeah, if my dick is inside you by the end of the night.”

She scowls at me. “Cal, my God...”

“Mr. Harper, apparently, since we’re on professional terms again.”

“Fine.” Laynee clasps her hands together and lifts that bratty chin of hers. “Mr. Harper, would you agree to meet with me—”

“Yes,” I seize out before she changes her mind. “But under my conditions.”

“Alright.” She exhales as if this conversation is as exhausting as it is for me. “I’m listening.”

“My place, tonight. I’ll provide dinner and you promise to give me something in return.”

She rolls her eyes. “What, my vagina?”

“Your price.”

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