Chasing Vivi(16)

     



 

"Come on, Vivi. Don't talk about yourself like that."

"Admit it, Prescott. If it hadn't been for you needing my brain, you would've never spoken a word to me."

His eyes shift, as does his body. Ah, so I've made the big guy  uncomfortable. Good. I've lived most of my life in a state of  discomfort. Do I feel badly about it? A little. It's not in my nature to  be this way, but dammit, he's pushing me.

"I'm sorry. High school guys are idiots. And I fell into that category."

"Fell or fall?" I ask pointedly.

I hear him blow out a heavy breath. Maybe I've hit a nerve. Who knows? I  don't even know why I care. It's not like anything's going to come of  this. He's not the kind of guy I want to get involved with. My heart  could never handle a guy like Prescott Beckham. He'd take what he wants  and casually discard me like a used up piece of trash. And I don't play  that game when it comes to my heart.

"You seem to have an extremely low opinion of me."

I ponder his statement, but don't speak.

"What did I ever do to you, besides pay you, and rather nicely I might  add, to do my homework? I wasn't mean. I never joined in on the  bullying, which, for the second time, I was not aware was happening. Now  I'm honestly trying to help you, but you keep slapping me in the face."

Assessing the situation, I notice I'm still sitting here with my hands  folded in my lap like a prim little miss. I unfold them and lean  forward. "Let's be honest here. You're not helping me for altruistic  reasons. There's something you want from me and we both know what it  is."

He slowly runs his tongue over his bottom lip. On any other man, it  would look creepy. On Prescott, it looks downright delicious. And he  fucking knows it. I clench my thighs together, because damn if it  doesn't get me wet.

"Is there anything wrong with that, Vivi?" His hooded expression,  coupled with his sinful lips, has me rethinking my stance for a moment. I  straighten my spine.

"Not if we're both in, but I'm not in, Prescott." Even if I'd like to  be, just to ease the itch between my thighs. Like I'm going to mention  that to him, though.

Thankfully, the waiter shows up then with a tray covered in so many dishes I almost laugh out loud.

"This is going to be a challenge," I say, in reference to the food.

"I'm up to any challenge you throw at me. And just so you know, I'm a  tough competitor." By the smirk on his face, he's definitely not talking  about the massive quantity of food that sits in front of us.

Why does he have to exude such potent sexuality? And why does he have to be the best looking guy I've ever known?

"Good to know. But I doubt I can eat as much as you can."

"Oh, I don't know. I think with a little practice you could learn to take in quite a bit."

The fork in my hand clatters onto the table. Damn his innuendo. I  swallow nervously, involuntarily picturing what he suggested. How would  it feel to have him sliding in and out of me?

I look up at him. His triumphant grin displays his arrogance, but leaves  me floundering for a response. When nothing clever comes to mind, I  snatch up my fork and dig in. His raspy chuckle sets my nerves on edge  and raises goosebumps over my flesh, turning my nipples into rocks.

"What's the matter, Vivi? Do you have doubts about what I say? Because we can put it to the test if you'd like."

I glance up again, which is something I don't want to do, and say, "No, I don't want to put it to the test."

"Are you afraid you'll like it?"

"Do you ever take no for an answer?" Exasperation laces my tone.

"I don't get no for an answer very often. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever been turned down."

"Yes, you have. From me. Just now. Now stop pestering me about it."

He chuckles, low and deep. God help me. My traitorous nipples are about  to pierce holes in my bra. It's uncomfortable sitting here.

Then he dips his head and in a quieter voice, he says, "Vivi, how would  you like it if I ate out your pussy? Licked and sucked your clit till  you screamed?"

I gasp. Oh, God.

"Don't flatter yourself, Prescott," I practically pant out. My body is  humming and I'm sweating. I want to fan myself, but that will only prove  to him what he already knows. And no fucking way to that.

"Truth or dare," he says.

"Not this again."

"Why not? I thought it was kind of fun the last time we played."

"I'm trying to eat the exorbitant amount of food you ordered, which you don't seem to have the slightest interest in."         

     



 

He shrugs a shoulder. "What can I say? I came here for the company. Back to our little game. Truth or dare?"

Deciding to be brave for a change, I say, "Dare."

His eyes widen and he gets a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Fuck me upside down. I take that back. Fuck me in circles. I'm so screwed.

"I dare you to spend one night with me."

"Not gonna happen. Not ever."

"That's not how the game is played," he says as he sits there wearing a smug expression.

My fork swings through the space between us. "I have the option of not taking the dare."

"No, you had the option of choosing truth over dare. You chose dare and you know what my dare is."

"I can't possibly spend the night with you."

"You don't have a choice, Vivi, because I won't allow you to return to that slum you call a home."

The set of his jaw and the tiny muscle twitching on his cheek tells me I'm at the business end of this declaration.

Leaning back, I make my own announcement. "You don't own me and have no right to decide that."

"I'm making it my right," he says, his tone clipped. "Until you  understand that I won't let you put yourself at risk for nothing more  than pride-and don't try to fool yourself into believing that place is  safe-you won't be going back there."

I fold my arms across my chest. He thinks he can order me around like one of his employees. Well, he can't.

"You can't do this."

"I can and will, even if I have to carry you out of here kicking and screaming."

"You wouldn't."

The stony glare clues me in to his answer. He absolutely will. This is a  man who always gets what he wants. Then a weird thing happens. His eyes  soften around the edges and the hard set of his mouth eases.

"Let me help you. Please." This time it's more of a plea than a demand.

"I  …  I can't."

The meal is forgotten and all I know is I need to get the hell away from  this man. He does things to me, things I don't even want to  contemplate. I have too much crap on my plate to add Prescott Beckham to  the heap.

"I have to go."

"No, Vivi, don't-"

Before he has a chance to say anything more, I leap to my feet and shoot for the door.





Chapter 10





Prescott





Vivi is every bit as stubborn as me, but there's one thing she hasn't  considered. I have more connections than she does. I grab my phone and  hit a number. "She's out the door." That's all I have to say. My driver  will intercept her.

The waiter stops by and I ask him to box up our dinner. He brings it to  me along with the check. I leave him a sizable tip for his trouble.

When I get outside, the car-and Vivi-are waiting. She's acting like a  pouty ten-year-old. I can't blame her. I'd be pissed off, too.

"Take me home," she says through gritted teeth.

"We're going home."

"My home, not yours."

"Answer me something. Be truthful, please. Do you like living there?"

"No!"

"All I needed to hear."

We drive the rest of the way in silence. When we arrive at my place, she stubbornly refuses to get out of the car.

"You can either get out on your own, or I'll carry you. You choose. But dammit, Vivi, I'm not playing games."

With a growl, she gets out and stomps toward the door. I want to laugh  at her because she has no idea where she's going. I grab the large bag  filled with our food boxes and follow her. The doormen wave at me and  call me by name. I briefly introduce them to Vivi, explaining to them  she is to be allowed up whenever she wants. Her angry expression makes  me want to laugh, but I don't.

Then I usher her toward the elevator and up to the top floor. The  building only has eight stories, and I have the entire eighth one and  the level above it. It's really too much for me, but it was a great buy  when they were redoing it, so I grabbed it.

When the doors open, we walk out into a small foyer, and I unlock my door with an electronic keypad.

"I can create a code for you, if you'd like."

"Don't bother. I won't be coming back," she says sourly.

"We'll see."

When we enter, I can hear her intake of breath. She doesn't speak, but  her expression tells me more than words. Her eyes widen into circles and  lines form on her forehead. She's impressed.

"Walk around. Check it out. The stairway leads to all the guest rooms,  of which you're more than welcome to stake your claim. My room is on the  main level. You can check that out, too."