Page 28 of Wicked Beautiful (Wicked Games 1)
“I’d rather have you still owe me one.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because then I could negotiate how you might pay me back.”
I’m a little surprised by how forcefully that came out; judging by the short silence on the other end of the line, so is Victoria.
Finally she says, “Oh, I’m more than willing to pay you back. In fact, technically I do still owe you one, since our last meeting ended on such a…strange note.” Just to disarm me completely, she adds softly, “I’m so sorry about what I did. The slap. It’s just that…well, that was probably the hottest kiss I’ve ever had in my life.” Her voice turns flirtatious. “And I do have a reputation to protect, you know. The Queen Bitch can’t be seen with her panties melted off by the kiss of a beautiful stranger, now can she?”
Two things happen in quick succession. The first: I laugh. I can already tell she’s going to give as good as she gets, and I love it. The second: I picture her naked, standing before me with her panties melted in a puddle around her feet, and my cock acts as if it’s just heard the call to arms, and springs to attention.
I walk slowly to the office windows and gaze out at the hazy desert skyline, trying to ignore the throb beneath my zipper. By now, I could give zero fucks about the board meeting I ideally won’t be returning to, because I never want this call to end.
I match her flirty tone. “The hottest kiss you’ve ever had, hmm?”
She makes a girlish noise, part shy laugh and part embarrassed groan, and it’s so unexpectedly erotic I almost groan myself. What the hell is she doing to me?
She’s getting under my skin, is what she’s doing to me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her, not since the moment I laid eyes on her. And then that kiss. Jesus. It’s probably the hottest kiss I’ve ever had, too.
It was definitely worth the slap. In fact, if she said the only way I’d be able to kiss her again is if she tied me up and played Fifty Shades of Grey with a leather belt across my ass, I’d beg, “Yes, please. Now, please.”
I had such a raging hard-on for so long after she left me high and dry on the dance floor I thought I might have to consult a doctor.
Victoria asks in a teasing voice, “Is someone fishing for a compliment?”
“Definitely. Hit me.”
“Well…OK.” Her voice grows husky. “I really like the way you taste.”
Fuuuuuuuuck.
I blow out a hard breath and adjust myself. “You’re not playing fair. I do have to leave this empty office I’m in at some point and return to the real world, you know. I’d rather not do it with a conspicuous bulge in my pants.”
“Speaking of bulges, was that a churro in your pocket last Friday night, or were you just happy to see me?”
“I don’t know what a churro is. I hope it’s something enormous.”
She laughs. “Oh, it is. It’s a delicious, thick, long, fried dough pastry covered in sugar.” She pauses. “It’s my favorite thing to eat.”
I can’t help it; I burst out laughing. Deep, belly-shaking laughs, the kind I can’t remember the last time I had. “Why Ms. Price, are you trying to have phone sex with me?”
She giggles. “I don’t know, Mr. Maxwell. Would you mind if I were?”
Instantly my laughter dies. “No. I’d fucking love it.”
The pause that follows is so filled with sexual tension, every nerve in my body starts to tingle.
She says, “I know your reputation with women.”
Her voice has lost all its humor, all its lightness. It’s gone totally dark. I instantly recognize that we’re done joking around. She’s laying something out on the line now. She’s testing me.
This is one test I’m determined not to fail.
“And I know your reputation with men. But I don’t care about anyone else you’ve been with, or anything else that happened before we met. All I care about is getting to know you better. Getting to know you—the real you, beneath the beautiful. I want to know the woman I saw on the dance floor, the one who comes out only when she thinks no one’s looking. The one with the sad eyes, who hides and plays make-believe and kisses like it’s her last two minutes on earth.”
I hear her inhale a low, shaky breath. With crossed fingers and a pounding heart, I wait for her to speak.
“I don’t do relationships, Parker. I don’t do the connection thing. The getting-to-know-you thing. I don’t know how.”
