Treachery

I almost shut the door in her face. Almost march to grab my phone and call security to ask how a transient accessed the neighborhood. Almost call the corporate headquarters of the security company and demand they fire the idiot who let a homeless woman anywhere near my house.

But then I take a second to look at Luca, and I almost burst out laughing.

As soon as I open the door, her chin tilts up, defiance blazing behind big blue eyes, a slight sneer curling her lips. She’s angry. I didn’t doubt she would be. I enjoy pissing her off and look forward to drawing more fire from her. But what I hadn’t expected was the care she’d taken to appear as unkempt as she does.

This isn’t simply a casual outfit tossed on to do something as mundane as grocery shopping. This is a concerted effort to look like hygiene is a foreign concept. Despite her obvious hope that I’ll believe she couldn’t care less about being manipulated into coming here, the care she’s taken to appear as such has the opposite effect:

It tells me I’ve already shaken her to the core.

Leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, I take my time looking her over. My gaze drags down a wrinkled, ragged t-shirt, farther to a pair of torn jeans, farther still to cheap, plastic flip flops that are at odds with her manicured toes. Dragging my gaze back up with the speed of a sloth, I lock my eyes to hers.

“You look lovely.”

Luca’s expression twists with beautiful rage, a red haze creeping across cheeks framed by brown hair. I won’t take the bait and state the obvious, won’t allow her to work me so easily. If Luca wants to break me, even that small bit, she’ll have to work a lot harder.

Her throat moves to spit out a slew of angry words.

“Yeah? Well, you’re an ass.” She throws up her hands. “Let’s get this over with.”

Storming forward as if to march inside, she stops dead in her tracks when I move to block her path.

“Are you going to let me in, or what?”

It hadn’t been a lie to tell her how lovely she is. Even rumpled, she’s striking in her beauty. A satisfied smile stretches my lips, my voice dropping to a low purr.

“You certainly seem anxious. If I’d known you were this desperate to get in my pants, I would have found you a lot sooner.”

In truth, I’d known where she was the entire time. But she doesn’t need to know that.

The color of her rage deepens, her ample chest pushing out with a sharp inhalation, her full lips parting for that breath to release on a fury of fire.

“Found me? Are you kidding me right now? What makes you think I wanted you to find me? Don’t even try to pretend my asshole of a husband didn’t find you with the intention of letting you destroy my life.”

Her teeth clack together, a tic in her jaw concerning me that she’s damaging the enamel. It’s a habit of hers to grind her teeth when angry, that and the cute tic above her eye, habits that had driven me wild when I’d started fights with her at Yale.

Is it possible for fire to be as seductive as it is destructive? How the fuck can this one woman leave me begging to be burned by her flames?

She jabs a finger against my chest, her height nothing compared to mine, which means she has to crane the long line of her neck just to pin my gaze with hers.

“I deserve every dime that son of a bitch owes me, and I hate you, absolutely HATE you for helping him screw me even more than he’s already accomplished. So here I am, ready to discuss whatever terms there are to your sick game, Ta

Lips quirking with a grin, I try and fail to remember the last time I’d had so much fun with a woman. Recognition settles all too quickly, my mind drifting to a day three years in the past, the day I met Luca Bailey.

The curl to my lip only infuriates her more, her arms crossing as her foot stomps like an errant toddler. Slipping my hands in the pockets of my slate gray slacks, I force my smile wider.

“Has anybody ever told you how adorable you are?”

Her eyes narrow as her mouth falls open, her words a seething, deep chested growl.

“Has anybody ever told you what an arrogant ass you are?”

“All the time.”

“Well, good. I’m glad you’re informed.”

Shrugging a shoulder, I push away from the doorframe and turn to give her room to step inside. As she storms past, my hand catches her bicep, my lips lowering to her ear. The pulse in her neck pounds, and I hover for three of those enticing beats before answering.

“I understand you came here thinking you could treat me like an available cock to ride -“

The hitch in her breath forces tension across my muscles, my lips curling more.

“- and I’m positive you need a good hard screw after three long years of lying beneath a sweaty, grunting, and undoubtedly sleep-inducing fuck of a husband-“

I drag my eyes down the line of her body to watch her fingers clench into fists, her arms practically vibrating with barely restrained rage.

“- But I hate to break this to you, Luca, I’m not that fucking easy.”

Slapping my palm against her ass, my heart kicks up a notch to see her stumble forward. My voice is gritty on her next instruction.

“Take the hallway to your left, walk through the living room and into the dining room. We’re having di

“Di

The one-word question is a hiss over her lips as she angles her head to scowl at me from over her shoulder.

“What if I’m not hungry?”

I grin.

“Oh, you’re hungry, all right. For my cock. I can smell it all over your skin. But we have business to attend to, as well as a meal waiting to be consumed. You’ll just have to wait to see if I deem you worthy enough to experience the pleasure of my bed.”

With a stubbor

I step forward, the heat of my chest a wall at her back as my breath tickles the line of her neck.

Speaking slowly, I remind her why she has no choice but to obey my every command.

“If you want to see the money Clayton owes you, and if you want to avoid my polishing the courtroom floor with your gorgeous, angry tears, you’ll give up this tough girl charade and march your pretty, little ass into my dining room to enjoy the food I was kind enough to have delivered.”

“I hate you,” she breathes out, violence wrapped into every snapped syllable.

“I know. You’ve told me already. And it only makes what I’m doing that much more enjoyable.”

Pausing, I breathe deeply, enjoying the lack of perfume to her skin, my body hardening to note the natural scent of her body.

“I suggest you walk, Luca. It would be a shame for the food to get cold.”

One last glance over her shoulder brings her mouth dangerously close to mine. Her voice is low and husky, her eyes blue flames of desperation knotted with fury.

“I hope you choke on it, Ta

With that she storms forward and cuts a left down the hall, low laughter shaking my chest at how easy it is to piss her off.