Page 45 of Of Grief And Gratitude

That made him laugh again. “I could make a badass out of you. Build some endurance.”

“Absolutely not.” I swiped a hand through the air and finished the red, fruity drink. “I’m allergic to endurance.”

“Clearly.”

“Hey!” I flipped him off.

“You said it, not me.” Romeo held his hands up, which only reminded me how they’d felt on my body. Inside me. As if he could sense my arousal, he leaned forward, bracing his hands on the back of the couch, trapping me. His lips nearly touched mine as he spoke. “I’d be happy to do all the work if you want to be a pillow princess.”

I couldn’t sit and have this conversation with him. He was an asshole underneath all that concern and seduction. If he cared about me, he wouldn’t be holding a sex video over my head. My body chilled, and I reached blindly into my pocket for my phone.

“Let me take you to lunch.” I didn’t appreciate that it came out like an order, not a question, but I couldn’t get out of the cage of his arms.

“No, I’ve got to go.” My fingers flew over my phone screen as I glanced down and texted Rian.

Romeo’s eyes followed, his expression turning stormy when he read the reply. “Who’s that, and why is he calling you babe?”

I was tempted to lie and piss him off, but then I remembered the type of man I was dealing with. Rian shouldn’t suffer because I hated Romeo. I shrugged and ducked awkwardly under Romeo’s arm. “My ride. Seamus assigned him to me.”

That pacified him a little. He grunted. “I could have taken you home.”

“No,” I said firmly, patting my pockets to ensure I had everything. “Next time you want a meeting, contact me directly.”

Romeo’s biceps bulged as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t have had to contact O’Connor if you’d replied to the messages I sent you.”

“You only gave me a day.” I mimicked his stance and arched a brow for effect. “If you want to present a pretty face to the public, we’ll meet in a more public place than the gym. I’m not willing to endanger my life for you. I don’t care what you’re blackmailing me with.”

“Riona.” Romeo took a step forward but stopped when I held my hand up. “I—”

I interrupted him so he couldn’t try to cajole me. “I’ll see you next week for the charity event.”

He was silent as I stormed from his office. Why did part of me want him to run after me and apologize for ruining everything with his stupid ideas?

Why did I think there had been anything to ruin in the first place?

Chapter Thirteen

I straightened my bowtie—again—and stepped out of the limo, taking a deep breath before heading up to Riona’s apartment. When she told me she’d be waiting outside for me to pick her up for the charity gala Friday night, I’d put a stop to that, telling her it wouldn’t look good for me to make my date wait out in the cold in a dress. Her eye roll was practically visible in the text she sent back in universal woman language for pissed off— fine.

Her anger only made me want her more. I’d hoped that eventually, she’d grate on my nerves enough that I wouldn’t find her attractive, but the opposite was proving true. The more she harped on me about what I wore, where I went, and how I acted, the harder it was to resist pushing her against a wall and feeling her soft center spasm around my cock while she drew blood with her teeth.

Fuck, that’s just what I needed. An erection. It was going to be a long night if I couldn’t keep myself under control.

Stepping off the elevator, I rapped my knuckles against Riona’s door in a staccato rhythm and waited. When she didn’t answer after a minute, I knocked again and checked my watch. We weren’t in danger of missing the event, but I worried after another minute passed and my date didn’t appear. Maybe she couldn’t hear me.

I picked up my phone and dialed her number, hearing her phone’s faint ring on the other side of the door, chuckling when I recognized the tune. It wasn’t very professional for her to choose You’re The Devil In Disguise as my ringtone.

Finally, I heard a thump and a curse before the deadbolt flipped and Riona’s flustered face appeared in the doorway, her wide eyes darting around the hall before she focused on me. “Get in here.”

“What?” I asked, confused. My baser brain hoped she wanted a quickie before we left for the gala.

She reached out and tugged the lapel of my tuxedo when I didn’t move immediately, pulling me into the apartment and slamming the door behind me. She huffed out an exasperated breath and pointed to her back. “I can’t button it all the way.”

“Oh.” My breath caught as Riona turned.

Her hair was pulled up and twisted, tamed, with a few artful strands curling around her face. It showcased the expanse of creamy skin on her back, the buttons only holding the lower part of the black dress together. It clung to her curves, and the black lace wouldn’t leave much to the imagination, even when buttoned. The possessive part of me wanted to tell her she had to change, that other men weren’t allowed to see her like that, but her dress wasn’t that different from what others would be wearing. It might even be more modest than some.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me?” Riona’s irritated voice broke through my thoughts. There was a hint of breathlessness there, which told me she wasn’t unaffected by my presence behind her. “We can’t leave if I’m not dressed.”

---