Page 7 of Crush

“I give stuff back thank you very much,” Amber scoffed.

“I’m not talking about donating your designer cast-offs to charity shops, Amber.”

Her face contorted, “You’re such a dick,” she hissed, not making any attempt to correct me.

Pursing her lips, Amber raised her hands and ran them over her head, checking her hair. I took it as a defensive gesture. She also wore a silver-coloured necklace which she often played with, the pendant like that Tree of Life crap. I wasn’t one for that mythology nonsense, in my opinion, we were all in control of our own destinies.

From Amber’s sour expression, I knew she needed more convincing. “It will be good for you.”

“And who areyouto tell me what’s good for me?” she sniped, dropping her hands, and planting them on her waist. Amber was now armed for battle it appeared, which was amusing, I could probably span that waist with my hands.

“I’m your boss,” I pointed out thickly, moving into her personal space. I knew it was a dick move, looming over her like that but she needed a lesson in men. I couldn’t stand the woman, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what she’d look like during rough, angry sex.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, continuing to stand up to me. “So, it’s definitely not a date?”

“Believe me, if I did date. You’d be the last woman I’d choose,” I added, looking her up and down with a scornful expression that suggested I found her lacking. This caused her eyes to narrow again.

“Thank God for small mercies. And if I dated, you’d also be the last man I’d go for. I pity the girl who tries to straighten out your fucked up head.” She put some force behind those words but they sounded strained. She was lying.

I decided not to hold her potty mouth against her, that would make me a hypocrite as I swore like a trooper.

“You’re a contradiction on legs Max,” she added, glancing away for a moment before resting those cat-like eyes back on me. Fuck me but I’d love to hear her purr.

I snapped back to it. A contradiction on legs? Pot calling the kettle black and all that. “Is that right?” I whispered, my voice dipping. I knew she wasn’t as indifferent to me as she made out. I’d seen her little coy glances when she thought I wasn’t looking and of course, why wouldn’t she look? I knew it was conceited to admit it, but I was a God to most women.

And then the situation became even more unprofessional as Amber closed the small gap between us and ran one of her fingers down my chest. The feeling of her nails sliding between my pecs through my shirt sent a further spark of life into my junk. Oh dear, not good. I was approaching a full-mast scenario.

I attempted to feign indifference but failed as her expression became sultry and by all that’s holy, it worked.

“Shall I explain why you do nothing for me?” Amber muttered softly, her fingertip tracing my chest.

“If you must,” I replied hoarsely, taking a huge swallow. Was it me or had it suddenly become boiling in there?

Amber’s next words fortunately doused the fricking fire. “No woman wants to be with a misogynist pig with an ego the size of the city,” she drawled, dropping her hand and wiping her fingers as if she’d touched something dirty. The girl had a point about the ego part of that statement. What did you expect when I had never been told no by a female?

“I’m not a misogynist. I love women,regularly. And it’s not the size of my ego they’re thinking about.” What the actual hell was I doing? Lining myself up for a sexual harassment charge that’s what.

My comment did the trick and her next blush was almost as red as her hair. “Yes, I have heard about your bedroom antics, although I can’t say I’m impressed,” Amber volleyed, her mask back in place as she stepped away.

God this woman so rubbed me up the wrong way. “And why is that?”

“The wordriddledcomes to mind. It sounds like you’ll put your dick in anything,” she sassed.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me, Amber.” Again, what was I doing?

Huffing, she retained eye contact and changed the subject. “May I go now?”

My eyes roamed over her perfect curves. I bet her pussy tasted sweet. I’d have to gag her first though.

I redirected my thoughts. “You haven’t given me an answer about the charity ball yet?”

“Like I have a choice,” Amber mumbled under her breath.

I wiped the smirk from my face and gave her a stony look. “You’re right, you don’t. Upsetting the boss would not be one of your better life choices. I’m abastard when I don’t get my way.” I knew I sounded like a prick but I was past caring. I found it interesting how her eyes flashed at my ballsy comment but she quickly dropped her chin. Was that a flash of excitement I saw or vulnerability? Who knew right? The woman could be as cryptic as a Rubik’s cube with the stickers moved around.

Amber ran a finely boned hand over her collarbone. She was so delicately put together with skin so pale you could see the blue of her veins. Eventually, her shoulders sagged and I mentally fist-bumped the air.

“Fine, if the date doesn’t clash with Daddy’s birthday party, I’ll go. What’s the dress code?” she said almost absently.

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