Page 49 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
I stare at her, hard, and she stares back at me with the same intensity. Her chest is going up and down like a locomotive, and that's doing things to me that I'm not sure I can contain for much longer.
My cock throbs, and precum leaks out the tip.
Shit, not only will I walk out of here with a boner, but I might also even have to do it with a wet zipper. Jesus… you're the CEO for crying out loud. Get a grip, Grayson. Imagine the headlines!
This has never happened to me before. Not even when I was a teenager.
Something about her brings out the worst in me.
I barely notice the rest of the people in the room, glancing between us like they're watching a tennis match. All I see, feel, and breathe is… her.
"The location is on theme," she says. "The color scheme is a detail that can be negotiated, as long as you're not planning to replace everything with the same shade of drab, dark gray as your…"
She cuts herself off. I know what she was going to say. Same drab gray as your condo. But she doesn't want to tell everyone that she knows the inside of my apartment.
"For example, we can keep the venue, drop overt graffiti to the VIP lounge, shift the palette to deep jewel tones, and unify the stage/stands branding. Lighting at 3200K flats the speakers; add LED walls and baffling for the stream.
"In fact, we have come up with plenty of color choices for you to choose from." She uses the clicker to fast-forward to other slides that each show the same design, but with alternate color schemes. "And of course, the graffiti, while being a perfect representation of the gritty, urban reality that so many of the people that the Wolfe Foundation is aimed at helping face in their lives—people that perhaps not everyone here really appreciates or understands, due to their own privileged background…" A clear jab at me, but I simply smirk scornfully at her. She'll have to do a lot better than that to get to me. "…can be more or less emphasized by the lighting, or even entirely hidden by fabric drapes, if that's what we want. But this is only one idea. We also have other designs to show you that are more traditional, and perhaps easier even for older, less in touch people to appreciate." Ha… another jab, this time at my age, the little witch. "I wanted to start with the most unconventional on the list and work my way backward."
"And if I say I don't like any of your ideas, darling?" I ask, and once again, she jerks at the term of endearment, like she's been shot.
Her lips press together, her voice hard and brittle. "Can I talk to you for a second, in private, Mr. Wolfe?"
"Sure thing, Jenna, honey," I respond, and she gets up and stomps toward the door, barely waiting for an answer.
The moment we are in the corridor alone, she pulls me away from the door so no one can overhear and demands in an angry whisper, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean."
I grin widely, and I can practically see the fumes rising above her head as she narrows her eyes and scowls back at me.
"Why are you fighting me so hard on every little thing? You're making this harder than it has to be."
"I thought this was what you wanted. For us to communicate better. Well, this is us communicating."
"No. This isn't communicating. It's deliberate antagonism. You're not giving me a good reason for shooting down my ideas; you're doing it because you enjoy tearing them down. ‘Because I don't like it' isn't a good enough reason."
"Agreed, assuming that your ideas are any good."
"They are good."
"They're… decent." I don't actually dislike her ideas. They need fine-tuning, but in truth she's right. Most of my contrariness was simply to get a reaction out of her. In complete honesty, I'm not even sure why.
"Also, why do you keep calling me that?"
"Calling you what?"
"You know what. Darling. Honey."
I chuckle at the mulish set of her lips. "We're about to be married, honeybunny. Why wouldn't I call you pet names?"
"Because."
"Because what?"
She sighs, closing her eyes, breathing deeply to calm herself. I find it adorable, the way she always tries to self-soothe. "Do we really have to do this at work?"
