Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“You looked rather cozy with the producer. Why am I not surprised?” The words flow from me, oozing with disdain.
Mallory’s cheeks color fiercely at my words. If she were any other person, I might mistake the warm red glow for a blush, but that’s not at all what this is. She sucks in her cheeks like she’s biting the inside of them, and her eyes are hard and steely.
I narrow my eyes and take in her rigid posture. Her hands are clenched tight at her side, and instead of her hand tapping, it’s her foot this time.
She’s good and pissed.
Not that I care. I made a simple observation. If she can’t handle the criticism, she’s not cut out for this industry, no matter who her daddy is.
I decide to poke the bear, because why the hell not?
“It must be such a comfort to have friends in such lofty places. I’m sure you’ll be swimming in clients before long.” I grunt. “Putting some other well-deserving, hardworking agent out of business just because you can hobnob with the best of them. You’re probably already on a first-name basis with half of Hollywood.”
She glares at me as she steps forward. “What’s your problem, Paxton? Scared I’ll come for yours?”
I guffaw, impressed by her gall, but the more I think about it, the angrier I grow. It’s just the sort of thing her father would do. He’s notorious for poaching other agents’ clients.
“You can try, but everyone knows you’re just a second-rate agent, whose one and only client can’t seem to fulfill her obligations without a damn fuss.”
Okay, I probably went too far, but I’m on a roll now. Might as well dig that hole a little further.
Her chest puffs out in anger. “You son of a—”
“Watch it, Mallory. You’ll pop a blood vessel.”
She’s trying her best to look unaffected and strong. Unfortunately for her, she isn’t fooling anyone.
I tower over her petite frame, likely a foot taller than the five-foot-two I have her pegged at. My hope is to intimidate her enough that she backs down and gets out of my hair.
She straightens her back, craning her neck. “I hate you,” she seethes. “You are such an arrogant ass.”
“Calm down, princess. All that is pretty obvious.” I take another step toward her so we’re toe-to-toe. “For the record, you’re the only person on this earth that brings that out in me.”
Not entirely true. There are a few others on that list. But she’s quickly climbing to the top with her hoity-toity, holier-than-thou attitude.
“I get it. You don’t like me. You don’t like my advantage. But I don’t even work with him. I own my own company.”
I bark out a laugh. “That’s all you think this is?”
Her eyebrow lifts, and a smirk spreads across her face. Despite the heated moment and topic, the way she’s grinning at me has my dick hardening in my pants.
Not cool.
“Wow, Paxton, I didn’t think you were so hard up for a hookup that you’re still thinking about a kiss we shared months ago.”
“Kiss? Is that all that was?” I wipe under my lips and grin back, leaning down so we’re now eye to eye. “I still remember how your pussy tastes, Mal.”
She gasps, eyes darting around.
I move my mouth to her ear and bite down just hard enough that she yelps. I’m not sure why I do it; it’s too intimate. I’m too turned on for my own good.
This woman is a nightmare—a conniving devil woman. But when I’m this close, breathing in the same air, inhaling her scent of lavender, I can’t help myself. The way she unravels me with a look. She must be casting spells because she has me riding a very fine line between hate and some other foreign emotion.
And it makes absolutely no damn sense.
My lips linger at the shell of her ear before I whisper, “It wasn’t the best I’ve ever had.”
She squeaks, pushing at my chest. I stumble back, caught off guard, just in time to watch her cross her arms over her chest and glare at me as though she’s attempting to light me on fire with a look alone.
I watch her for a second, and that’s when I notice the rhythmic tapping of her index finger on her upper arm.
Aw . . . did I hurt your feelings?
Impossible because a woman like her has none. She uses people to get ahead, and that’s the one type of person I can’t be kind to.
“Or could it possibly be that I figured you out? You’re not much different from him, after all.”
“You don’t know anything,” she bites out, turning to walk away.
“Touch a nerve, sweetheart?” I yell to her back, and she spins around, taking two long strides toward me, poking me in the chest with her finger.
“No, Paxton. It doesn’t bother me. Wanna know why?”