Read Online Gunslinger: A Sports Romance by Lisa Lang Blakeney - Free Book Online

snaps his fingers obnoxiously as if he's trying to remember Peter's name.  
    Boy this guy is a terrible actor and a bully.
    "Peter," I say in a huff to end his shenanigans.
    "Oh that's right–Peter."
    "Uh no, Mr. Stevenson. That won't be necessary. Sabrina is one of the best account managers in this office. She can absolutely handle this meeting on her own. I was just trying to be helpful."
    "Well if we need your help, I'll make sure she calls you back in."
    Jason leans into me. Our shoulders touching. His mouth very close to my ear.  
    "You all right with this, Sabrina?" he whispers. Still sounding unsure about leaving me to deal with this rude new client of mine.
    "I've totally got this. I promise," I assure him.
    He smiles in return.  
    "Of course you do. Call me when you're done okay?"
    "Will do."
    "Pleasure, Mr. Stevenson."
    "Likewise."

SABRINA

    When the door slams shut, I immediately get to the heart of the matter. No need to beat around the bush. This is how you have to deal with guys like him.
    I adjust my seat and cross my right leg over my left, which is no easy feat in this skirt, and look him square in the eyes.  
    "So let's talk real talk, Mr. Stevenson," I say to him in my best big girl voice.
    "Real talk, huh? All right let's do it," he says excitedly, then he flashes me a thousand watt smile, which has probably dropped a thousand pairs of panties across the nation.
    "It can't possibly be a coincidence that you've hired this company to handle your financial affairs. The company I work for."
    "You seem pretty sure that I'm up to something, Miss White."
    "Well–"
    "You think a company looking to enter sports management in a big way wouldn't have approached someone like me a long time ago?"  
    I shuffle uncomfortably in my chair. Is this just a coincidence, and I've now put my foot in my mouth? Did I offend him?
    "I guess that–"
    "But let me stop you there, because you would also be correct," he cuts me off. "It's not a coincidence that I'm here."
    "So you're saying that you hired Carson Financial, because I work here?" I ask still a little unsure of what I may actually be insinuating.
    "That's right."
    I almost choke on my own saliva.
    "Why?"
    "I don't know. Why did you tell me you were on a date with your 'point person' when we met?" he counters using air quotes when he says the words point person.
    "I'm not sure what one thing has to do with the other, but you were being quite presumptuous with me in the restaurant. You didn't know if I was on a date or not. Lying seemed to be the easiest solution for shutting you down."
    "Is that still the case?"
    "Is what still the case?"
    "That you're not dating your coworker, because he seems very interested in what's happening in this room right now. In fact, I'd bet a hundred dollars that he's standing right outside of this room right this very minute."
    Saint's eyes drop to my thighs.  
    "I bet it's killing him that the door to this room is closed, that you're dressed in this , and that he has no idea what I'm saying to you or doing to you."
    "Doing to me?" I repeat appalled and aroused.  
    He walks over to the seat closest to me and sits down. His massive body taking up not only the space around me, but it almost seems as if he's filling the entire room. Just the insinuation of Saint Stevenson doing anything to me makes me pause. I mean I'd have to be dead not to be drawn in by the raw sexual heat this man emits.
    "Yes," he practically growls. "Doing to you."
    "Listen, Mr. Stevenson–"
    "We've been over this, love. The name is Saint."
    "Saint. Look, I want to be perfectly clear here. I'm not sure what game you're playing, but I have very little interest in games or in you as a client at this point."
    He pauses for a moment as if he's carefully thinking of a response to my very frank but honest statement, and then he just goes ahead and asks me a question which is totally off topic.
    "Are those authentic Philadelphia hoagies over there or New York's lame