Casanova(25)

Hard.

I gasped, shoving him away from me. I smacked my hand over my mouth and staggered back a few paces. “Oh my god!” I breathed. “What the hell?”

Brett said nothing. It was a horrible habit with him, I could see. One I wanted to slap right out of him in that moment.

“You asshole. You self-entitled bastard.”

“Oh good,” he drawled, a vein bulging in the side of his neck. “I’m so glad you got to finish your insulting tirade.”

I stared him down. In the split-second it took for the lingering burn of his kiss to shiver down my spine, the fog in my mind cleared. Unfortunately, that meant I was feeling the kiss in other places. My nipples were hard and pressing against the padding of my bra, and my clit throbbed, leaving an uncomfortable ache between my legs.

Mostly, I felt one thing—anger.

It slowly crept its way back through my veins as I pressed my fingertips to my now-tender lips.

One job, Lani. You have one freaking job.

I was going to fuck it up.

I knew I was.

I don’t know why I ever thought it would be any different with him.

The power he’d had over me, the one I’d always allowed him, hung thick in the air. And I’d put money on the fact he fucking knew it.

Shit, it’d been eight years since I’d last laid eyes on the man who was once my best friend, but I wasn’t little Lani Montana anymore. I wasn’t a sixteen-year-old girl, hopelessly in love with her best friend and handing him her heart so he could stop on it with his man-slut boots.

I had the one ability now that I hadn’t had back then. I knew how to take back the power from him. I knew how to take it and hold onto it, and I was going to do it if it killed me.

“You listen to me, Brett Walker,” I snapped, holding my ground. “The next time you so much as even think about kissing me, I’m going to shove your dick so far up your insides you’ll be able to suck it yourself.”

“Will I be able to deep-throat myself?” His gray-blue eyes flashed with amusement through the heady attraction that lingered. “‘Cause that’ll save me having to explain how I like it next time I need a blow job.”

My jaw twitched in annoyance. God, he was such a smug son of a bitch. How had I ever had feelings for him? Oh, that’s right. Back then, he hadn’t been ridden so many times he could fill in for the bikes at the gym. He was an asshole-in-training as opposed to being the CEO of Asshole Central.

“Don’t think I’m joking. You had no fucking right to kiss me.”

“I didn’t see you pushing me away.”

It stung because he was right. “If you didn’t already guess it, I don’t want to be here. I’m here because your father wants me to work my magic and clean up your act so you look like you’re a gentleman. I can’t pretend that if you’re acting like the same asshole to me as you do to every other woman in town.”

“But I am a gentleman,” he said, lips curved into a dirty smirk. “I always make sure I ask before I spank.”

“Not according to my right butt cheek!” It stung, and it was definitely more noticeable now I was thinking about it. Kneeing his dick up into his throat was definitely appealing.

“Sometimes I forget. Can you blame me when faced with your ass?”

“Yes. It’s not like you don’t wake up each day and look at one in the mirror, is it?”

He paused for a moment, staring at me, before he burst into deep laughter. Each low chuckle danced across my skin and made the hairs on my arms stand on end.

God. I hated him. I hated him so much.

His laughter ended as abruptly as it began. Although his amusement still shone in the depths of his steely gaze, the expression on his face was anything but amused. Sure, he was wearing that smirk, but there was nothing nice about it. It was condescending, smug—totally cocky.

Brett took a step forward, shutting the distance between us. My heart thumped, warning me to take a step back, but I wouldn’t.

I’d watched enough documentaries to know it was stupid to run from something that looked at you like you were its prey.

“Lani, Lani, Lani...” he murmured, dropping his eyes to my lips.

Deliberately, I ran my tongue along the lower one. If he wanted to play this game, he could bet his ass I’d rewrite the rules.

His gaze snapped to mine, heat flaring in it. “I know my father hired you to get me back in line. What I don’t know is why you agreed to do it. Writing a series of articles on a rich guy whose family thinks he’s lost control isn’t in your skill set, kitten. You’re an investigative journalist—not a two-bit gossip column writer.”

“Is that what this little act is about? You want me to give up because this isn’t what I usually do?” The nerve. “And if you call me kitten one more time...”

He took another step closer to me. Now there was barely a breath between our bodies, and I could feel his as he exhaled. “You’re gonna do what? Pull out your claws and scratch me? Careful. I might like it.”

“You son of a—”

He grabbed my wrist again before I could step back and yanked me against him. He clamped one strong, toned arm around my waist, pinning me to his solid chest for the second time today. My body reacted immediately. My heart picked up a cha-cha beat, while my pussy totally missed the memo and ached in earnest. Even my nipples were hardening against the fabric of my bra again.