Out of the Storm(10)

I sigh, grabbing my hair and pulling it back. Suddenly, the temperature in this building just elevated at least ten degrees.

"How well do you know your fiancé?"

Letting my hair go, I twist the ring on my finger. "Well," I grit out through clenched teeth. "What if we don't want your business?" I may not want it, but I know we need it. But is it really worth it? Something is off here, it's not right.

He laughs. "Oh, you want my business." Theo leans closer again. "But Charlie probably doesn't, which is why you're not going to tell him about me at first. Think of it as a trial period. You can tell him you got the account, but make me anonymous or change my name in your system." 

"How am I going to keep this a secret? You do realize what you're asking me to do, right? You're going to invest a huge amount of money with us, but I'm going to keep that from my partner?"

"That's right. It's a test. If you fail, there will be disastrous, life-altering consequences. If you pass, you can tell him."

Shaking my head, I stand up. I'll walk back. This is insane. I'm not doing this. He mirrors me and pushes my shoulders back down. "Sit. We've not eaten yet. The food's delicious here."





That went better than I expected. I knew being here would give me the confidence, the footing to be able to project the power I have into this situation, which I desperately needed.

She narrows her eyes. "Let me tell you something, you son of a bitch."

Oh shit.

"You can take your deal and shove it up your ass. I don't know what you're up to, but you have a lot of nerve to practically k-"

I switch sides of the table in an instant, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and planting my lips on hers. She puts her hands on my chest, like she wants to fight me, but her lips aren't resisting. They're parting, inviting, welcoming, as my tongue slips in. She tastes like a fucking tomato, dammit, but I don't care. I just want more, so I deepen it, trying to reach what, I don't know, but she moans in my mouth and my dick gets so hard I feel like it's going to bust through my pants. My heart is pounding. Pulling back, I suck her bottom lip before releasing it. "I said the only word you were allowed to say was kinky in this establishment. That was just a reminder that I mean what I say."

She slaps me. Slaps the shit out of me. "Don't ever do that again," she hisses.

"Because you didn't like it?" I chuckle. "Because you were fighting so hard for it to stop?" I trail a finger down her soft cheek. "Or because you liked it a little too much?" I did. I liked it too fucking much. I'm screwed. I'm not going to be able to get her out of my damn mind.

She swats my hand away. "You have to stop with your seductions. You're playing games."

I lift my eyebrows. "Life's a game."

She laughs. "I'm not talking about life. I'm talking about whatever you're up to. If you were trying to seduce me, insulting my intelligence isn't a way to get me to fuck you."

"I don't want to fuck you. Not right now. Not while you're fucking … " A nasty taste fills my mouth at the mere thought of him. "Skatá prósopo."

"And what exactly does that translate to? You think you're so smart with your little Greek cuss words?"

I kind of laugh. "It's my native tongue. Different from the tongue you liked a second ago. Anyway, they slip out from time to time."

"Translation?"

"Fuck face." I smirk proudly, just as Troy brings our food.

"Two Paidakia." He serves Jules first, then me. Instead of going back to my seat, I move my water to this side of the table along with my silverware.

"Can I get a new napkin? Mine fell on the floor when I switched sides rather abruptly."

Troy nods. "Yes, sir."

After he's gone, she scoots as far away in the booth as she can. "I did not like your tongue. I do not like your tongue. Native or otherwise. What is this?" she asks, pointing to the plate.

I shrug as I cut a piece and pop it in my mouth. "Grilled lamb chops."

"Huh." She pushes the meat around on her plate.



       
         
       
        

"Not a fan of that?"

"I lost my appetite." She glares at me. "Feeling a bit disgusted at the moment."

"Well, you should eat. The food's-"

"Don't even say it again, Theo."

I cut another piece, dip it in the feta mashed potatoes, and offer her a bite. "Try it, Jules."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

Scooting closer, I lean in. She smells so good, and I want to taste her again even though I fucking hate Bloody Marys. "Please, will you try a bite?" I don't need to look away from her eyes to see her chest rising and falling in rapid succession, her breaths matching mine. "It's one of my favorite dishes in the world, and I'd love to share it with you."

She crosses her legs. "How much money are you investing with our company?"

Fuck. I'd not thought about that. "How much would it take for you to eat this bite?"

Her lips quirk up. "You just answered one of my questions. And don't say you did it on purpose. You didn't, did you, Theo?"

I bite my lip. She's got me. And I love the way she says my name. "You got me. My two weaknesses. A sexy woman and food."

"That wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be. For a dominant, alpha type, you caved pretty fast."

I put the fork down. The hell with the food. Skimming my hand up her thigh, I stop just at the hem of her dress. She freezes, but I can hear her labored breaths, see the desire pooling in her eyes. "Maybe I decided to change what I wanted control over. And the conversation isn't it."

"You just said you're not going to fuck me."

I shake my head. "Doesn't mean I don't want to. Doesn't mean you don't want to. And if I couldn't get the answers I was searching for through talking, then perhaps, I could get them through a … " I let my hand slip up a little further. "A different approach."

She puts her hand on mine and squeezes it, pushing it back down. "I love Charlie."

Glancing away, I blow out a breath. Such a fucking cock blocker. Picking my fork back up, I take a bite. "My food's getting cold. Yours too. You should eat it while it's hot."

She pushes the plate away. "Fuck the food, Theo. You never answered my question. How much money?"

"A million?" I glance over at her nonchalantly. Her eyes bulge. "What? That not enough? Two?" I sure as hell hope one is enough. Two is stretching me thin, and since I don't know if I'll ever be seeing this money again, that was really stupid of me. What possessed me to agree to do this for Marco and not just go to the fucking feds? For someone who is so smart, I can be so stupid. Especially when I'm around her apparently. 

She does that thing with her hair where she twists it into a little bun, sighs, then lets it fall. It makes my insides twist too. "You're the client," she mumbles. "You choose how much you're going to invest. What do you do to have that kind of money?"

"Since this is a test, I'd love to start with a million. See if I can trust you." Because if she tells skatá prósopo, I'll most definitely hear from him. I'll know she can't be trusted. And I can already tell she's the brains of this operation. Charlie may be smart, but he's got nothing on her. She's not stupid enough to screw with my money knowing I'm suspicious of her. But. But skatá prósopo won't know I'm suspicious if she doesn't tell him. If I can trust her. If he doesn't know it's me, he'll start screwing with my money like Marco's. I've got a million dollars on it. "Is that good with you?"

She nods. "How long is the test?"

I scoop up a bite of my favorite, the most delicious, feta mashed potatoes. Turning the fork upside down, I let them slide over my tongue, savoring them. I close my eyes, imagining her staring at me while I'm doing it. When I open them, I stare into hers. "However long it takes for me to see if I can trust you."

"And what do you do?"

"I think we've had enough of Q and A." I stab a green bean. "Sure you're not going to eat?" I ask, offering it to her. "It's not nearly as good when it's cold."

Her lips part, and mine curve into a smile. I let out a small growl because all I can think about are those lips wrapped around my cock. She closes them around the fork, pulls back, and takes the green bean with her. "Mmm." She covers her mouth. "What do they put on those?"

I shake my head. "Secret recipe."

"Green beans aren't supposed to be that good."

I laugh. "Of course they are." Scooping up some mashed potatoes and a piece of the lamb, I offer her another bite. "Try this. Please."

"You tell me what you do."

Shaking my head, I take the bite. "It's so good. It could have been yours."

"You're such a dick."

"Not all the time, Jules." I look up, trying to give her a glimpse into the real me. Not that I'm not being real, but the side of me that doesn't have to manipulate situations to get information on covert operations he has no fucking business operating. "And I can assure you, on my worst day, I've got nothing on skatá prósopo."