Read Online Immortal Distraction by Elizabeth Finn - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Finn
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me so damn much?”
“Fuck you.” Her jaw was tight, and her heart was pounding as he watched her.
“I’m afraid until you’re ready to let go of that cold-ass block of bitch sitting on your shoulder there’s little chance of that happening. I want you begging me and submitting to me, and I’m guessing that’s a bit out of your comfort zone at the moment.” He was taunting her, pushing the buttons he knew would trip her up. The funny thing was, he didn’t want to. He enjoyed the scent of her arousal, the increased heart rate, every last sign she inadvertently gave him of just how much she craved him. He may enjoy seeing all of it and knowing he could incite it easily by toying with her, but he was growing weary of it. He wanted her. Pushing her buttons wouldn’t get him there with her though. It was just too damn hard being her enemy when all he wanted was her trust. But he knew well he didn’t deserve it.
There was a drive to her spirit he rarely saw in anyone. She was fighting tooth and nail to be the person she thought she needed to be, escaping some weakness, some past or bond of some sort she didn’t want to be tied to, and he intended to find out what it was. He wanted to see where it came from. He wanted to understand her, reach her, and as fun as it initially was to work her over the same way she was trying to work him over, he wanted more. He wanted all of her.
Chapter 8
“I thought you said dinner.” He had said dinner, but this was a bar. Not just some random bar either, but a quiet, intimate wine bar. Their table was closer to being its own private room than a booth, and it left them sitting close—too close.
“I changed my mind. If you’re hungry, I’ll buy you something to eat…”
“No, I’m not hungry. I’m not thirsty either. I’m only here because I have to be.”
“That’s not true, Brit, and you know it. But if it makes you feel better to convince yourself of your unwilling participation, then so be it.”
After Brit ordered a glass of Pinot Noir, Angus waved the waiter away. “Aren’t you getting anything?”
“I’m not thirsty, but I’m glad you’re having something. Perhaps it will relax you.”
“Well, I’m not crazy about drinking alone. Don’t you like wine? This is a wine bar, and it was your choice to come here.”
“I like champagne … very much.” His brows shot up teasingly and left no doubt he was referring to the fundraiser, and she was blushing before she could rein in her composure. She looked from him instantly, but it was too late. She could see his smirk from her periphery as he studied her. But he didn’t torment her for too long. “Tell me about your family.”
“No.” She was willing to talk about a great many things, but this was not one of them. He continued to study her. He watched with an impressively impassive expression. And it left her fidgeting and wanting to look away from him. But she forced herself to hold his gaze.
“Fine, then you can cancel the polygrapher.” And then pulling a fifty from his pocket, he tossed it on the table and he stood as Brit fought to maintain her composure.
“Stop! Why are you doing this?” She was seething, trying to be quiet but furious he was toying with her again.
He turned back to her, studied her for a moment before leaning to her ear. His lips touched the sensitive skin, and he spoke quietly for only her to hear. “We had a deal. You broke it. I didn’t ask for much, but it was apparently more than you were willing to give.”
And as he righted his body, she grabbed his wrist. He stopped, turned slowly toward her again and looked down to her eyes once more. His crystalline-blue eyes were searing holes into her brain as he studied her, the heat a contradiction to the cool blue. “Fine.” She relented, and as she watched him, he winked and slid back into the close crescent shaped booth.
“So you were just getting ready to tell me all about your family.” He was smirking again.
“Fuck you.” Her jaw was tight, and her heart was pounding as he watched her.
“I’m afraid until you’re ready to let go of that cold-ass block of bitch sitting on your shoulder there’s little chance of that happening. I want you begging me and submitting to me, and I’m guessing that’s a bit out of your comfort zone at the moment.” He was taunting her, pushing the buttons he knew would trip her up. The funny thing was, he didn’t want to. He enjoyed the scent of her arousal, the increased heart rate, every last sign she inadvertently gave him of just how much she craved him. He may enjoy seeing all of it and knowing he could incite it easily by toying with her, but he was growing weary of it. He wanted her. Pushing her buttons wouldn’t get him there with her though. It was just too damn hard being her enemy when all he wanted was her trust. But he knew well he didn’t deserve it.
There was a drive to her spirit he rarely saw in anyone. She was fighting tooth and nail to be the person she thought she needed to be, escaping some weakness, some past or bond of some sort she didn’t want to be tied to, and he intended to find out what it was. He wanted to see where it came from. He wanted to understand her, reach her, and as fun as it initially was to work her over the same way she was trying to work him over, he wanted more. He wanted all of her.
Chapter 8
“I thought you said dinner.” He had said dinner, but this was a bar. Not just some random bar either, but a quiet, intimate wine bar. Their table was closer to being its own private room than a booth, and it left them sitting close—too close.
“I changed my mind. If you’re hungry, I’ll buy you something to eat…”
“No, I’m not hungry. I’m not thirsty either. I’m only here because I have to be.”
“That’s not true, Brit, and you know it. But if it makes you feel better to convince yourself of your unwilling participation, then so be it.”
After Brit ordered a glass of Pinot Noir, Angus waved the waiter away. “Aren’t you getting anything?”
“I’m not thirsty, but I’m glad you’re having something. Perhaps it will relax you.”
“Well, I’m not crazy about drinking alone. Don’t you like wine? This is a wine bar, and it was your choice to come here.”
“I like champagne … very much.” His brows shot up teasingly and left no doubt he was referring to the fundraiser, and she was blushing before she could rein in her composure. She looked from him instantly, but it was too late. She could see his smirk from her periphery as he studied her. But he didn’t torment her for too long. “Tell me about your family.”
“No.” She was willing to talk about a great many things, but this was not one of them. He continued to study her. He watched with an impressively impassive expression. And it left her fidgeting and wanting to look away from him. But she forced herself to hold his gaze.
“Fine, then you can cancel the polygrapher.” And then pulling a fifty from his pocket, he tossed it on the table and he stood as Brit fought to maintain her composure.
“Stop! Why are you doing this?” She was seething, trying to be quiet but furious he was toying with her again.
He turned back to her, studied her for a moment before leaning to her ear. His lips touched the sensitive skin, and he spoke quietly for only her to hear. “We had a deal. You broke it. I didn’t ask for much, but it was apparently more than you were willing to give.”
And as he righted his body, she grabbed his wrist. He stopped, turned slowly toward her again and looked down to her eyes once more. His crystalline-blue eyes were searing holes into her brain as he studied her, the heat a contradiction to the cool blue. “Fine.” She relented, and as she watched him, he winked and slid back into the close crescent shaped booth.
“So you were just getting ready to tell me all about your family.” He was smirking again.
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