Page 37 of Bad Love

I swallow. “Intensity.Vibration.”

“Isee.”

“This one’s a jack-of-all-trades. It’s most of the size of the Rocket but with a less literal design.” It’s a sleek wand. “The issue is it’s good but not great.” I flip to the last tab. “This one here is an externalvibe.”

“Not acock.”

“Err, right. Not a cock,” I confirm, proud I can say the word withoutflinching.

“And what did you think? When you triedthem.”

My heart stops. “I didn’t. I’m sure it’s notnecessary.”

His gaze works over mine. “You’re running this campaign. Hell, you’re the one who said we couldn’t sell ten thousand Rockets, so clearly your opinion matters. And how can you know if you like something if you haven’t triedit?”

The flush doesn’t just creep up my cheeks—it’s a tsunami of red I can feel to my ears. Which only makes me press my hands to myface.

Hunter watches, fascinated. “You okay?” He cocks his head, and I duck my face in myhands.

“Stop it. Please,” I manage. “With the sexuality.” It’s mortifying, but I want to crawl under a rock for the way he affects me. It’s as if I have no control over my ownbody.

But when I look up, he’s all innocence as one of those beautiful hands rubs the scruff on his chin. “I think you have the wrong impression. I’m just a nice guy who loves beer and needs to sell ten thousandvibrators.”

I take a steadying breath and lower my hands. “I get that there’s something between us. But you don’t need to flaunt it all the time. You act like all you have to offer is… that.” I nod at him, and it’s his turn to sitback.

"You got a problem with my ‘this’?" he teases, gesturing to his torso like he’s showing off aprize.

And he’s right. Every inch of him is hard and cut and imposing and makes my throat dry. My desperate gaze finally lands on his feet. "Shoes without socks shouldn’thappen."

"I'll have you know my feet smell likes roses,” he tossesback.

I shake my head to clear it. Dammit, if he didn’t make me want to smile, this would be easier. “That’s not the point. The point is you cut commercials in half the time. You run a social media presence half the brands in this country would cut off their arm for. You command a meeting like you were born to do it. People respect you. But you pretend you're shallow. As if all people want from you is your charm or your body…or your stupid tonguering.”

His brows draw together, his eyes clouding. Hunter’s practically vibrating in the chair across from me, his voice rough when he says, “What am I,then?”

“A man who’s capable. Talented. And maybe one who doesn’t know what hewants.”

He stares me down, and I feel a shiver work through me that has nothing to do with his physical presence and everything to do with the look in hiseyes.

I swallow. “Why are you selling vibrators,Logan?”

I think he’s going to refuse to say, but he doesn’t. "I made a wager with Nellie. We’ve made a lot of bets over the years. It’s always a slam dunk. This time my pride got the better ofme.”

“What did youbet?”

“My share of my grandmother’scompany.”

Cold washes over me, either from his words or the troubled expression on hisface.

“If I don’t sell ten thousand by the board meeting, I hand my ownership over toNellie.”

As those deep brown eyes linger on mine, filled with self-mocking and regret, I feel as though I'm getting more than a glimpse of somethingpersonal.

“Nellie.” I think of the man I met in the meeting earlier this week. “There’s no way that man will have respect for the company. Not like youdo.”

“Iknow.”

Sweat breaks out on my neck, and I drop my face in my hands, feeling light-headed.

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