“What?” My eyebrows draw together in a frown. “I’ll need to resist you? How about if I agree to this then you respect me enough to keep your cock under control?”

“Will you sass me like that through the project, Bee?”

“My personality reflects the name, remember? Bright and sharp. You bet your fine fucking ass I’m going to sass you if you’re going to be an asshole.”

His lips pull up on one side into a devastatingly sexy smirk that sends lust bolting right through my pussy. “It’s your choice. You make the final decision. I don’t need an answer today.” He pulls a card from his pocket and slides it across the table. “Think on it and call me tomorrow.”

I take the card and give it a glance. “What if I don’t have a decision made tomorrow?”

“Then call me the next day.”

I look from him and back at the card. His name and his personal number as well as the restaurant’s is on it. “Thank you, but no thank you.” I put the card back down and push it back to him with two manicured fingernails. “I think we both know we’ll be wasting each other’s time if we attempt this. I don’t play pretend business well with others—least of those whose cocks have been halfway down my throat.”

“Excellent. Then you won’t mind if I do this.” He pounces on me before I can say a word.

I’m trapped against the seat by his hard body, and I shudder when he takes a fistful of my hair and tugs my face back. His hot breath cascades across my lips and I inhale sharply. I look up through my lashes, but the pressure of his mouth falling onto mine has them fluttering shut.

I reach up and wrap his silky tie around my hands, effectively holding him against me. God, he tastes so fucking good. Like whiskey and sin… rich and forbidden.

It doesn’t stop me flicking my tongue against his mouth and fighting a smile when he bites my lower lip then soothes the sting with his. It doesn’t stop my pussy clenching or my clit throbbing or my nipples hardening. It doesn’t stop the endless bolts of desire ricocheting around my body at light speed. No, it only heightens it.

The fact that I know I shouldn’t be doing this makes it feel even better. It’s so wrong but it feels so right. And I can’t stop. Fuck me, I can’t stop no matter how much I know I need to.

He tugs my head back. The sting from his action assaults my scalp, but it’s the good kind of sting. He drags his lip along my jaw and up to my ear. “Take the job,” he breathes. “Take it, Bee.”

“The position we’re in does nothing but convince me to stand by my refusal,” I whisper. My heart is pounding frantically, doing its best to keep me alive beneath this man’s deadly assault.

Carter runs his hand up along my thigh, over my skirt, and it finally comes to rest on my waist. His breath flits across my neck, and I close my eyes again at the warmth. “What if I say this—once more? You and me. Right now. Kill the tension between us and then that’s it.”

“On what planet does that make sense? Sure—let’s give into temptation and hope it goes away.” I let go of his tie and turn my face to him. He pulls back so our eyes meet, and I shake my head. “Sorry, Carter. I don’t ride the same bull twice.”

He eases his hand up my body, his palm brushing across my breast, until he’s cupping my chin. “You’re not leaving until you agree.”

“I thought you said it was my decision.”

“I’m a fucking liar. Say yes now and we’re done. Say yes after one more fuck and we’re done. Which one is it?”

Talk about a rock and a hard place.

But I did have that conversation with Ms. Greedy Pussy and tell her we’re only playing with Bert the Battery Boyfriend… Then again, Bert doesn’t offer much in the way of dirty talk or oral…

So I do something I might regret in the morning and give him my answer.

***

“You turned him down? Are you insane?” Charley cries, slamming her hands on my desk.

I throw a pen at her. “Shut your mouth!” I hiss. “Yes, I turned him down. What else was I supposed to do? Tell him I’d fuck him and then give him the inevitable answer? Don’t be dumb!”

“Girl! Sex! Real penis!” She slaps her hand against her forehead. “I know you’d feel like you were cheating on Bert, but come on. He dies on you all the time.”

“Only because I keep buying store brand batteries,” I argue. “I’m cheap, what can I say?”

“She says while wearing seven hundred dollar shoes,” she mutters. “Whatever. Did you tell your mom yet?”

“That I got the contract? Sure. It was the first thing I said to her this morning. She shit a unicorn and then peed out rainbows she was so excited.”

“I guess your hippy dad’s ways rubbed off on her after all.”

I snort. Hippy Dad is currently in Mexico, probably delivering drugs for a cartel but smoking half of them on the way. “Whatever. Look—it’s simple. Carter is closing the restaurant next Thursday and then I have ten days to get it back together. I don’t have to see him until then, and then it’s only briefly.”

Yeah. After I told him there’d be no sex happening last night, we agreed terms of the contract. The written copy should be on my desk later today, but the long and short of it is that we’ll spend no longer than ten minutes in each other’s company unless someone else is there. Clearly his cock has a mind of its own, and we all know my vagina is a rule-breaking slut, so if we aren’t alone together, shenanigans can’t be shenaniganed.

It’s foolproof. Like kids’ medicine bottles, which I still can’t get into at twenty-six. Also note that Charley’s five year old niece can break into them like a pro, so foolproof is apparently only for people who can think for themselves.

Basically, I don’t think it’ll work. I think it’s fucking stupid, but I can’t have the man kissing me like that all the time. It’s like… Gah. Ugh. Fuck my life. Grr. Roar. Fuck! Yeah… that sums the craziness up, doesn’t it?

It just has to work this way.

“You don’t honestly think this is going to work, do you?” Charley asks me, one eyebrow raised so high it’s practically disappeared beneath her bangs.

“I’m trying to keep a positive outlook on the situation,” I tell her. “I only have to spend seven days around him with minimal contact, and then I can go back to having my life the way it was before.” Just with a lot less sex. I’d hate for this to happen for a second time, after all…

Charley stares at me. “Sweetie, you’re deluded.”

“I know.” I sigh heavily and drop forward on my desk. “The hell am I supposed to do, Charley? I had to say yes. I couldn’t not. He made that perfectly clear.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” She smacks her lips together. “Just so you’re aware, I’m making this disclaimer: As your best friend, I’ve told you that you’re a fucking idiot and that I don’t agree with this, even in the name of business, but I will be here when it all comes falling down with a card that says ‘I told you so, douchedick.’ Are we clear?”

“Perfectly. Now fuck off. I have to work.”

Chapter Eight

In the past seven days, I’ve ordered everything I need to overlook the renovation of the restaurant. I’ve spent endless hours on the phone to suppliers and companies and artists. Turns out Carter Hughes has a pretty bottomless wallet and wanted to commission a number of original images for the walls opposed to me buying generic ones from a store.

Apparently he likes to be unique.

Anyway, that’s accumulated in four different images from the same artist, triple his usual price, and I’m to collect them on the final day of the redecorating. I agreed simply because I had no other choice.

I have a feeling the artist, Kevin Peters, won’t be sleeping very much.

Now I’m on my way to the restaurant and hoping that everything will be removed and I’ll be walking into what is essentially a blank canvas. That’s what Carter promised me on the phone yesterday at the very least.