Page 12 of Fateful Exposure

"I daresay you can go fuck yourself," I deadpanned. I knew what he was trying to do: get under my skin. The joke was on him, I had thick skin, and he would have to try harder than that.

"We both know you wouldn't want that." Ashton leaned forward ever so slightly, that annoying grin still plastered on his face. "In fact, I'm willing to bet you've been thinking of having me inside you again."

Despite myself, I blushed. Hard. "That was a mistake. If I knew then what I do now, I wouldn't have slept with you."

"Ah, but I think you're wrong."

He’s enjoying this, the fucking bastard.

Falling back against the chair, he smacked his lips loudly. "I think it would have been pretty easy to get you to spread your legs for me regardless. Might I remind you how willing you were to jump into bed with me? How you almost screamed down the hotel building when I thrust—"

I shot to my feet. "That's enough, Ashton." My face was impossibly hot, and my heart hammered in my chest so loudly that it became a constant ringing in my ears. "This is my office, and I won't have you acting like a child in it."

He laughed. The asshole fuckinglaughed. A deep, guttural sound that echoed through my office. Tormenting me must have been his new favorite pastime. But I couldn't spend the next few days planning his murder when I needed his expertise.

"Calm down, peaches." Ashton waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Don't be so stuck up. Live a little."

"Your idea of living is extremely poor. And don't call me that."

"What, peaches?"

I lowered down onto my chair, giving him a death glare in response.

"You have amazing titties,” he said. “It's a perfectly suitable name."

What was wrong with him? There had to be some underlying mental disease he suffered from. He either needed a psych evaluation or a lobotomy.

And why the hell is he still here?I should fire him and fuck the consequences.But those consequences would come back to bite me in the ass, and it would sting so fucking bad. I couldn't afford to find another professional quickly, and certainly not one willing to work for free. But being stuck with Ashton did not mean I had to put up with his arrogance.

"In case you didn't hear the look I just gave you, shut the fuck up." I pointed my index finger to the sketchbook. "Back to business. Tell me your plan."

His scoff was filled with humor as he returned my gaze. I half expected him to say some other stupid shit, but after a few seconds, he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.

"As I said,” he began, “I'm tired of seeing the same models over and over again. Fresh faces. The kind of faces the media never thought they'd see on their screens. From your designs, I think it's safe to say your concept centers around moral inclusivity. I like that. I think it's…refreshing."

I stared at him. It was the most he'd said to me without sounding like an absolute jerk. Seemed like when he was in work mode, he was a whole different person. And he was right about my design concept. The fashion industry today is full of restrictions and gender barriers. My vision was to set new standards and break those barriers, thus making fashion accessible to a broader audience.

I wanted to design clothes for women who were either too big or too thin and, at the same time, make them feel comfortable in these clothes. It was about empowering women of all shapes to feel beautiful and confident.

"Fresh faces," I repeated, trying to paint the image. "Isn't the entire point of using professional models to break into the market and attract a wider audience? How would using fresh faces work in my favor?"

Ashton shrugged. "You're right, but at the same time, the people have gotten tired of the same old boring shit. You're bringing something new to the table, and it is revitalizing. It's just a suggestion, and you can choose to do whatever you want, but my advice to you is ‘don’t knock it till you try it.’ Besides, hiring professional models costs a fortune, and given how strapped for funds you are, I don't think it's wise."

He was right, goddammit. For the magnitude of my vision, I would need to hire at least five professional models, and they did not come cheap. I also had to think about publicity because no fashion media company wanted to work with me due to that previous backlash. I could probably ask Ashton for help in that regard, but I had no doubt he would clearly state that it went beyond the constraints of his favor to Maria.

"Thank you, Ashton. I'll consider it."

He nodded, his gaze still on me. An awkward silence passed between us, which disconcerted me. It wasn't hostile or full of malice, just uncomfortable.

What’s going through his mind?I wondered.Is he thinking about that night in his hotel room? Does he ever think about it?

Why did I even care? It wasn't like it would ever happen again. I knew what an absolute asswipe he was now, and I would chew glass before I let him come close enough to me for as little as a kiss.

"I looked for you for days, you know." His brown eyes pierced into my skin like a needle. "Even after I checked out of the hotel, I went back to look for you."

His confession sobered me up. I shouldn't have asked, but I just couldn't help myself. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You were…invigorating. Plus, you've got a bomb pussy."

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