Page 60 of The Billionaire's Secret
Her shoulders stiffen.
"Oh, and Lennon was especially a douche-dick."
She clutches her fingers at her sides as twin spots of color appear on her cheeks.
Hell, this is more fun than sitting in a business meeting negotiating the crap out of my opposing party.
"And The Beatles copied The Stones."
"The Beatles copied them? The Beatles?" She sputters, "Your timelines are all warped."
I lean in close enough for our breaths to mingle, "Are you aware that you get this cute little line between your eyebrows when you go all maniac?"
"I’m not bloody Flashdance," she huffs.
I laugh.
"Nice one, Rhodes."
"That’s not my surname." She slaps a palm over her mouth.
I frown, 'What’s that supposed to mean?"
"N…nothing." She tries to scramble off my lap, and I grab her shoulders to hold her in place.
"Explain."
"There’s nothing to explain."
"Yes, there is, what you said—"
"Was a slip of the tongue." She tips up her chin.
"You’re a bad liar."
"Not lying."
"You’ve been heaping on the bullshit from the moment we met."
"What?" She frowns, "What do you mean?"
"You went out of your way to catch my attention, you led me on, capitalized on the chemistry between us. You made me an offer you knew would pique my interest."
"Not my fault you found me a challenge," she huffs.
"You’re more than that for me."
She freezes.
Shit, shit, shit, hadn’t meant to say that. Talk about a slip of the tongue, huh?
She swallows, lowers her head, "You’re not making sense."
"It’s simple. You wanted to become my submissive, but I’ve changed my mind."
She pales… "B…but we had an arrangement."
"Consider that void."
