Beautiful Bastard (Beautiful Bastard, #1)(34)

“Boss man makes you want what? Like spankings and stuff?” Julia responded with a chuckle, but when I looked away I heard her gasp. “Oh my God, he’s spanked you?”

My wide eyes shot back to her. “A little louder, Julia. I don’t think the guy in the back heard you.” As soon as I was sure no one was looking, I smoothed loose tendrils of hair back from my forehead. “Look, I know I need to stop this but I—”

I paused as I felt goose bumps rise along my skin. My breath caught in my throat and I turned slowly to look at the door. It was him, scruffy and dressed down in a black T-shirt and jeans, sneakers and hair in even sexier disarray than usual. I turned back around to face Julia, feeling all the blood drain from my face.

“Chloe, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Julia said, reaching across the table to touch my arm.

I swallowed hard in an attempt to find my voice, then looked at her. “Do you see that man next to the door? The tall, good-looking one?” She raised her head slightly to look and I kicked her under the table. “Don’t make yourself obvious! That is my boss.”

Julia’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” she gasped, and shook her head as she looked him up and down. “You weren’t kidding, Chloe. That is one beautiful bastard. I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed. Or car. Or dressing room. Or elevator, or—”

“Julia! You’re really not being helpful here!”

“Who’s the blonde?” she asked, motioning toward them. I turned back to see Mr. Ryan being led to a table with a tall, leggy blonde, his hand on the small of her back. A sharp stab of jealousy pressed into my chest.

“What a prick,” I hissed. “After his behavior last night? He has got to be kidding me.” Just as she was about to respond, Julia’s phone rang and she reached for it in her purse. The “Hey baby!” greeting told me it was her fiancé, and this would take awhile.

I glanced again at Mr. Ryan, talking and laughing with the blonde. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. He was even more attractive in a relaxed setting: smiling, eyes dancing when he laughed. Dick! As if he heard my thoughts, he lifted his head and our eyes locked. I clenched my jaw and turned away, tossing my napkin to the table. I had to get out of here. “I’ll be right back, Julia.”

She nodded and waved absently, never pausing her conversation. Standing up, I quickly made my way past his table making sure to avoid his eyes. I had just turned the corner and spotted the safety of the ladies’ room door when I felt a strong hand on my forearm. “Wait.”

That voice sent a jolt through me.

Okay, Chloe, you can do this. Just turn around and look at him and tell him to f*ck off. He’s an * who called you a mistake last night and shows up with some blond bimbo today.

Straightening my shoulders, I turned to face him. Shit. He looked even better up close. I’d never seen him looking anything other than perfectly groomed, but he obviously hadn’t shaved this morning and I desperately wanted to feel the scratch of his stubble on my cheeks.

Or thighs.

“What the hell do you want?” I spat at him, pulling my arm free from his grasp. Without the benefit of my heels I felt like he towered over me. Looking up at his face, I could see faint circles under his eyes. He looked tired. Well, good. If his nights were half as bad as mine, I was happy.

Running his hands through his hair, he glanced around uncomfortably. “I wanted to talk to you. To explain about last night.”

“What’s there to explain?” I asked, nodding my head toward the dining room and the blonde still sitting at his table. My chest twisted tightly, painfully. “Change of scenery. I get it. I’m actually glad to see you here like this—it helps remind me why this thing between us is a terrible idea. I don’t want to be indirectly f*cking all of your other women.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, looking back at me. “Are you talking about Emily?”

“Is that her name? Well, you and Emily have a lovely meal, Mr. Ryan.” I turned to leave but was once again stopped when he grabbed my arm. “Let. Go.”

“Why would you even care?”

Our argument had begun to attract attention from the staff passing through to the kitchen. After a quick glance around, he pulled me into the ladies’ room and locked the door.

Fantastic, another bathroom.

I shoved him away when he stepped closer. “What do you think you’re doing? And what do you mean, why would I care? You f*cked me last night, told me all about how I couldn’t possibly want to go out with Joel, and now you’re here with someone else! I let myself forget you’re a manwhore. Your behavior is completely expected—I’m pissed at myself.” I was so angry my nails were practically cutting into the palms of my hands.

“You think I’m here on a date?” He exhaled heavily, shaking his head. “This is f*cking unbelievable. Emily is a friend. She runs a charitable organization that Ryan Media supports. That’s all. I was supposed to meet her Monday to sign some papers but she had a last-minute flight change and is leaving the country this afternoon. I haven’t been with anyone else since the wi—” He paused to rethink his words. “Since we first . . . you know . . .” He finished, motioning vaguely between us.

What?