Dirty Scoundrel(14)

Through the tinted glass, I can see someone approaching. The person's  not as tall as the lawyer, and the curves and bouncing hair tell me that  it's exactly who I want it to be. I can't stop the grin that spreads  across my face, and I open the car door and get out to greet her, hoping  I ain't about to get a slap in the mouth.

But nope. Natalie pauses as the car door opens, then thumps my chest  with a stack of papers-the contract-and then climbs into the car.

Guess that means she signed.

I hand the contract off to one of the nearby lawyers. "This is yours. Any changes made that I don't know about?"         

     



 

"No, sir. She signed." The lawyer takes it as if I'm handing him a snake.

I grunt. "Good. Send me your bill." I get back into the car and close the door, and then I'm alone with Natalie.

And damn, she's the most gorgeous thing I've ever fucking seen.

Her arms are crossed under her breasts and her tits are heaving from  sheer outrage. Fuckin' magnificent. Her cheeks are flushed and she looks  pretty and fresh and innocent, and I realize I'm gonna get into those  panties, after all, and my cock grows achingly hard.

She signed.

She's mine.

But she gives a toss of her dark hair and glares at me. "What the fuck, Clay?"

"Nice to see you, Natalie," I drawl. "You're lookin' mighty fine this morning."

"Stuff the sweet Southern-boy act," she snaps at me. "Why won't you agree to the changes I wanted in the contract?"

I'm fascinated by the pink sheen of her lips. They look all plump and  kissable and I'm havin' a hard time concentratin' on what she's sayin'.  It sinks in a moment later, and then I laugh. "What, you don't like the  fact that I'm payin' for all of you?"

Her cheeks turn bright red and she shifts in her seat, clearly embarrassed. "That wasn't on the table!"

"You're right, it wasn't . . . until you mentioned it. Now it is. So thanks for that."

Nat's jaw clenches. She is adorably cute and I realize in this moment  how much I've fucking missed her the last seven years. It hits me like a  ton of bricks and I'm glad I'm seated, because I feel staggered. Even  her anger makes me hungry for her. I don't mind her spittin' at me, as  long as I'm in her presence.

You stupid ass, I chide myself, and rub the S on my knuckles. She used you. Now you get to use her.

"I'm glad we came to an agreement," I drawl.

"This isn't an agreement as much as it's a hostage situation! You have me over a barrel!"

"Not yet, but that can be arranged." I force myself to be nonchalant,  stretching my legs out in the limo. I'm seated across from her, and even  though the back cab area of the car is probably bigger 'n my first  bedroom, it feels too small. I'm antsy, and it's all because I'm in her  presence. "Anything else you want to offer up?"

She huffs and her pretty blue eyes are flashing murder at me. "I'm almost afraid to speak."

"But you signed, didn't you?" I point out, hardening my resolve against  her. Doesn't matter that she's cute. Doesn't matter that she smells  fantastic and my cock's aching at her nearness. I'm the one in charge  and I'm not giving my power up. Not when I'm finally getting what I  want.

Natalie spreads her hands. "How can I not sign? Like I said, you have me  over a barrel. You have all these people showing up to fix things that  I've been trying to ignore for forever, and you got my father not one  but three nurses so he can have round-the-clock staff and . . ." She  swallows hard and then pulls out a tissue and starts dabbing at her  eyes. "Shit."

I stare at her, horrified. "You cryin'?" I don't want her cryin'. I want  her spittin' nails at me, all furious and angry and magnificent so I  can be a ruthless bastard to her.

"No," she says quickly and tilts her head back, blinking rapidly. "I'm fine."

She ain't actin' fine. It's clear she's about to cry. It's also clear  she don't wanna cry in front of me. Hell, I don't want her cryin',  period. Last thing I want is to have her all weepy while I'm trying to  get into her panties. I need to get her all good and angry again. "Good,  because it's about time I get to start enjoyin' my side of the  bargain."

Nat freezes in place and looks over at me with those shiny eyes. Her  posture isn't sad anymore, though-she's practically bristling. "Oh?"

I pat the seat next to me. "Come gimme a kiss."

Her mouth opens and her lips part. She makes a small, frustrated noise. "You're serious?"

If it stops her from cryin' and gets her back to angry? Fuck yeah I'm  serious. "Didn't buy you to sit there and look pretty, baby."

"Don't call me baby. And you've turned into a major asshole, Clay Price."

I shrug. "Guess you made me one."

Her back goes ramrod stiff and she gets to her feet, ducking her head in  the limo's low-roofed cabin, and practically storms the few feet over  to my side before dropping heavily next to me. There's a mutinous scowl  on her pretty face but she ain't cryin'.         

     



 

Good. I like that.





Chapter Eight



Natalie

Good lord, Clay is such a jerk. I can't believe I'm having to go along with this.

It's my own fault, though. I signed that contract. I knew what I was  getting into. Liking it-or liking him-isn't part of the equation. All I  can do is grit my teeth, tolerate, and hope he gets tired of me fast.

Until then, he's determined to make me miserable. But I'll put up with  it, because it's going to get me somewhere. It's getting Dad  three-three!-nurses and helping me keep the business afloat. It's  getting rid of all those horrific debts that are keeping me up at night.

It's giving me closure on the boy I've missed so, so much for the last seven years.

I sure don't miss his ass now. In fact, I wish he'd stayed gone. I would  rather mourn the guy I lost than see the jerk he's turned into.

Don't sweat this, I tell myself. It'll be just like kissing a stranger.  He didn't have that beard when you were in high school, and the Clay  from back then is nothing like the Clay now. This isn't that guy. Your  memories are safe.

Saying that to myself makes me feel strangely better. I can't lose the  sweet, handsome boy I fell in love with back in high school. Not to the  jerk that's seated before me. I'll always have those memories. They're  safe. So I study him. "A kiss, huh?"

He nods, beard brushing against his collar as he does. "That's what I said."

For some reason, I almost imagine that he's as nervous as I am. That has  to be my imagination, though. All right, since he's not looking as if  he's going to help me-and he's bought me, so I guess he doesn't have  to-I lean forward, closing the distance between us.

When he still doesn't lean in to meet me, I bite back a scowl. He's  going to make me climb all over him just to get this kiss in, is he?  "You really are a prick," I mutter as I scoot closer.

Clay just chuckles, as if my complaints amuse him. Maybe they do. It only makes me more determined to get this over with.

So I grab a handful of his shaggy beard and pull his face down toward mine.

He looks surprised at my action, but his eyes get hooded as I move closer, and then my lips are on his.

I'm . . . not expecting his breath to be as sweet as it is. Or for his  lips to feel as soft as they do. His beard tickles my face, and it's  like kissing a stranger. I brush my mouth over his in a light caress,  exploring.

But then his hand slips to the back of my neck and he pulls me closer to  him, and his lips part and then his tongue rubs up against mine.

And it's not kissing a stranger. It's kissing Clay. The Clay I loved so  much back in high school. The Clay I spent hours upon hours just  breathlessly making out with. The Clay I missed so desperately. When his  tongue strokes against mine and he takes control of the kiss?

It's like being seventeen all over again.

A soft little mew escapes my throat, and he groans against my mouth.  Deeper, his tongue strokes against mine, licking me as if I'm his  favorite flavor of ice cream, and I swear I can feel that all the way  down to my toes. Over and over, our tongues meet and clash, stroke and  taste, and our lips meld until the world disappears around me. There's  only Clay in my senses, Clay holding me close to him, the scent of him  in my nose and his hard chest pressing against mine. His hand is tangled  in my hair and mine is against his chest, and I'm inches away from  crawling into his lap. Just when I think I should pull away, his tongue  brushes against mine once more and then I'm lost yet again.

It seems like eternity before I pull away from him to catch my breath,  and even as I do, he leans in and nips at my lower lip. I feel dazed at  that one simple kiss, and I'm pretty sure I'm wet between my thighs from  it.

I'm shocked.

And for a moment, Clay looks just as shocked as I am. With our noses  inches apart, we're both breathing heavy, and his gaze is locked to my  kiss-swollen lips. "That's a good start," he murmurs.

Just like that, the spell is broken. I push against his chest, sliding  away from him, and wipe my mouth to show him just how little I care  about his kiss. It's a lie, of course-I'm shaken to my core. But I don't  want him to know that. "Satisfied?"