Cuffed by His Charm (Dirty Little Secrets 4)

Really? It had been ten years give or take since we’d last seen each other. It shouldn’t have been a big mystery. Aside from the purple hair, I hadn’t changed that much. “Hello, Rory,” I said.

His smile should be illegal. He was the exact opposite of my type, yet here I was forcing myself not to smile back. We circled each other like fighters after the bell clanged.

“Nice store.” He nodded without taking his eyes off mine.

I refused to let him get me hot and bothered, but the challenge in his gaze was a turn-on. “Are you looking to get in touch with your feminine side?”

“Sure, what do you recommend?”

I hated being condescended to, but I was more than up for the challenge of embarrassing the hell out of him. I brushed by him and got a cheap thrill rubbing against his hard body. So he worked out. Big deal.

Trailing my fingers over the spines of the books, I found the one I wanted: How to Orgasm Like a Woman. I handed it to him and watched as he tried not to choke at the title.

“They say a man can achieve multiple orgasms, like a woman. But I’m not sure I buy that. Men don’t have the right”—I paused and looked him up and down—“equipment for it.”

Rory opened his mouth. Shut it. And repeated that a few times.

Score one for me.

I was behind the counter with my tea before he fully recovered. “You can’t possibly be making rent selling this crap.”

I bristled at the crap comment, but tried to soothe myself. It’s not like I hadn’t heard it before. “I’m sure you’ve checked my finances and my on-time rent payments. That’s fifteen ninety-five, but if you sign up for our newsletter, you get ten percent off your purchase today.”

Rubbing his hand down his perfect face, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, you seem to be a savvy businesswoman.”

“Don’t say it like it’s an oxymoron,” I said in my coldest voice.

Rory grimaced in frustration. I found it cute. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

I’d actually like to put my tongue in his mouth, and that surprised me. He smelled like the ocean, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be wild like the sea in a storm during sex. I licked my lips. I’d like to try him out. I tended to dominate the crap out of Ivy League boys like this and it was always fun. Once. He had been a stuffed shirt in all of his emails. I had reacted by being more outrageous than I normally was. I’d send him pictures of me giving him the finger in front of serious cleavage, or sticking my tongue out at him, making sure my tongue ring showed.

I had issues.

“I’m offering you three times your yearly income, as well as buying you out of your lease.” He slapped a check for $120,000 on the counter.

I blinked at it. I could almost buy my own house for that. Of course, nowhere near the ocean. Swallowing hard, I had to clench my fists to avoid taking the check. I could buy a new car and drive anywhere in the United States. Get far away from here and all the emotional baggage I still carried with me. I could find another store. Start all over again where no one knew me as Judge Nolan’s delinquent daughter. It was tempting.

“Take it,” Rory said in a voice as smooth as chocolate syrup.

Take it, the voices in my head encouraged.

I cleared my throat. “You can have the store in five years, once my lease is up.”

/> He ground his teeth in frustration. “You can’t want to stay here. Your store doesn’t fit in.”

What he really meant was you don’t fit in. Unluckily for him, that wasn’t the first time I heard that.

“Sorry, I like my store and so do my clients. You should have done a preliminary poll instead of just assuming you could bulldoze anyone in your path.”

Rory smiled again, and again I had to stop myself from smiling back. I didn’t want to smile at him. He was a jerk, albeit a charming one. “Maybe you don’t quite understand.”

Oh here we go. Next up was either a veiled or not-so-veiled threat, or he’d attempt to mansplain why I wanted to give up my store to make it easy for him.

“This ought to be good.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

Distracted, he looked down at my cleavage. So he liked those cheesecake photos I had sent him. Well, all right. Score one for the girls. I wore a deep V-neck because I hated things around my neck, and if I was showing more boobage than usual, I would take whatever advantage I could. I just wish I didn’t feel the burn of his gaze down to my toes. Pretty Boy was making my nipples hard, and for the life of me, I didn’t understand why. Was it the hint of five o’clock shadow on his jaw? Or maybe it was the barely banked lust in his hazel eyes. He was so wrong for me, and I think that’s why I was so into him. Or maybe fourteen-year-old me still had a crush on him. I was mad at him too, and my anger tended to leak out into sex. I licked my lips, thinking about throwing him down on the couch and riding him until he behaved like a good boy.

He cleared his throat, and for a moment I wondered if I said that last part aloud. “I’m offering to buy you out of the remaining five years on your lease.”