Chasing Fate (Dark Love 5)

“Really, you think?”

“I bet you,” she says, leaning in closer to challenge me.

“I don’t take bets lightly.”

“Neither do I, Noah.”

And there it happens again, that electric current that runs through my body every time she says my name. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, and every part of me knows I can’t fuck her if I want to keep my job, and, of course, get to Scarlett.

Charlie will win.

Kate will call me a wanker.

But I have difficulty letting this one go. She ruffles my feathers in the most annoying way. I don’t know what I’ve done for her to be so resentful.

“So, tomorrow night. Why don’t we work over dinner and then have your type of fun afterward? I’m new to Cali, so I’m sure a local like yourself knows where all the fun places are,” I suggest, calling her bluff.

The prude won’t last two seconds with me in a social environment. She’ll probably break out in hives and have to go straight home. I can see it now. She’s not that tough.

“Tomorrow? Night?” She stops long and hard, thinking about my proposition. “There’s a restaurant just off Sunset that’s nice. Perhaps we can go for a walk afterward.”

A walk is her idea of fun?

Already bored with the idea, I put on a fake smile. “Sounds great.”

“I have to be somewhere at eight. Can we make it early, say five?”

“Of course. So tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she repeats.

Her body, across the table, sits only an arm’s length away. My hand itches to run my finger across her lips, and imagine what they would feel like wrapped around my cock. Fuck. Stop thinking about this! You just want what you can’t have, and she’s the most frustrating woman you’ve ever met. If her mouth was all over your cock, you’d shove it further down her throat just to see her eyes water. Maybe then, she’d loosen the grip on the giant pole she has that’s stuck up her ass.

She looks at her watch, telling me she needs to leave. Argh, honestly. This whole meeting’s a bust.

I can only imagine how boring her life must be.

All work, no play.

Then home to her litter of cats.

“The cats need feeding,” I mumble beneath a breath.

With her purse and laptop in hand, she throws some bills on the table, moving her stare back to me. “I gather you have all the information you need for today?”

“Yes, Ms. Bentley,” I respond in a formal tone.

Pushing her chair under the table, she leans forward close to me. The scent of her perfume lingers in the air, igniting my senses—her expression changes. And just when I think she’ll say goodbye, her eyes become hard and hostile—a hint of fire raging inside them.

Leaning her right hand on the table, giving me the perfect glimpse of her cleavage, she watches my lips as they part with curiosity.

“Not cats, Noah, just one pussy. And yes, it does need feeding.”

NOAH

Morgan Bentley’s words eat away at me. I don’t know if it’s her words, the insinuation, or the way she said them with such hatred. And then she goes and talks about her pussy.

Given her unpredictable mood swings and personality shifts, I have no clue what it means. I think about asking Charlie, but mentioning the word pussy feels exceptionally awkward. Kate’s busy with some merger deadline and isn’t responding to my desperate texts to decode woman talk.