She nods enthusiastically and presses a kiss against his cheek.
“Excuse me,” she replies sweetly, moving to pass between us but not before she flashes me a devious grin.
I return hers with a forced smile, stepping back to let her by, and she disappears out the front door.
Madden’s demeanor changes when he turns back to me.
“Back to what I was saying,” he retorts. His voice drops low, without an ounce of caring. “I wasn’t expecting any staff to be here today. In the future, when I have a guest over, I expect you to give me privacy.”
I bite my tongue to resist telling him to fuck off.
He has every right to want privacy, except I want to throw in his face how rude it is to invite guests into his home and then treat them like shit.
I chuckle under my breath and shake my head. He takes the step separating us, leaving enough room for me to smell his woodsy cologne mixed with the smell of sweat.
Do not think about how delicious he smells, Brielle.
“Can I ask what’s so funny?” He lowers his eyes to my chest.
I’m afraid to even check my own reflection right now because I know the heat flaming my cheeks gives away just how much he affects me.
Whenever I’m nervous or anxious, I break out in what looks like hives. No matter how hard I try, I’ve never been able to prevent it.
I shake my head and finally glance up, locking eyes with him. It takes everything in me to stay composed.
“I know you were listening to us, and judging by the dazed look in your eye, you liked it. So unless you’re waiting for me to drag you into that room for round two, I’ll need you to clue me in. Although, I could assure you that you wouldn’t find it the least bit funny if I did.”
My face falls, and my eyes widen.
Why am I not surprised? Only these guys would finish getting their dick sucked and walk out here minutes later to proposition me.
“I wouldn’t let you touch me if you were the last dick on earth,” I spit out.
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could take them back.
“Um, excuse me, Madden?” A voice interrupts, and we both turn to find Kyla standing in the entryway.
The door opens behind her, and Davis enters, carrying a tripod along with another bag.
My eyes flick back to Kyla, and her face is solemn.
“Can I have a word with you, Madden? Please,” she mutters coldly, her eyes wide with a scolding look that says, “You better listen to me right now.”
What the hell just happened?