Page 46 of Hell Hath No Fury
"I've been busy."
"Yes, so your assistant said."
He sighs and leans back in his chair. "Is there something you'd like to say to me?"
"So many things, but I like my job, so I'll keep them to myself."
He chuckles.
"I ordered the cake and purchased the decorations for her party next week. Please make a note in Sharpie on your forehead so you don't forget," I request.
"On my forehead?"
"Mhmm. For as much as you love yourself, I’m sure you look in the mirror and admire yourself a lot, so there'd be no forgetting date, time, or place."
His nostrils flare and I try hard to keep the smile hidden.
"Is that all you needed, Ms. Sullivan?" he asks shortly.
"From you? Yes. Thank you." I turn to walk out of the office and pause to look back. I catch him staring at my ass and I'm thankful I chose today to wear my pencil skirt. "Have a good afternoon… Sir," I say breathily, and his eyes widen. I turn the corner, and only then do I let the smile break through. Jamie looks over and mouths, "Wow," while fanning herself.
Sullivan 1.
Pierce 0.
CHAPTER TWO
Derrick
Damn that Audra Sullivan. Hell. She's sexy as fuck, but that mouth. That mouth is the thing fantasies are made of—when it's closed. She's bitchy and irritating and she turns me on. What the hell is wrong with me?
I'm sick. It's as if I have a fetish for torturing myself since we hired her two years ago. None of the regular club girls satisfy me—not like they used to. My mind drifts off to the sexy cadence of Audra Sullivan's voice when the ditzy high-pitched voices begin to pierce my ears.
"Dude," Mark Fuentes, partner number one in DPE, says entering my office, "who pissed in your Wheaties this morning?"
"Do they even make Wheaties anymore?" I question.
"I don't know, but if they do, someone seriously pissed in yours. What's your problem?"
I lean back, and he takes a seat across from me.
"Sullivan."
He chuckles. "You need to get laid—preferably by her."
I give him a look. "No thanks. Frigid isn't my type."
"She's not frigid, man; she's fiery. Muy caliente," Mark informs me.
"I doubt that. I'm pretty sure she hates me."
"No way, D. She's hot for you. It just seems like she hates you."
I laugh. "You make no sense. She cuts to the bone, man."
He leans forward. "She wants your bone. Haven't you heard of love/hate?"
"I have, and I'm telling you, this isn't that."
