Falling into Temptation (Falling 1)

I shake my head and try to shrug off the errant thought. The last thing I need is another Chandra Freestone on my hands.

Fuck. That. Shit.

“Would you mind giving me back my documents?” I bark.

Finally, my voice seems to elicit a response from her as her gaze meets mine for the first time. And she has the audacity to look angry at me. She’s actually scowling at me.

Normally, that kind of insolence would have sent me over the edge, especially after this morning’s events. But I’m distracted by the pair of eyes staring back at me. They are a dark amber color with flecks of light honey all around them. I’ve never seen anything like them before, and it’s unexpected. Her creamy white skin is flawless, contrasting starkly to her dark mahogany hair. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s clenching her jaw in annoyance.

But, oh those lips. They are tinted with a bright cherry red lipstick that matches her ankle length red leather boots. My eyes travel down her body greedily, taking in the soft curves under the fishnets and ripped jean shorts. She looks both sweet and wild at the same time. My cock hardens painfully and I fight the urge to adjust myself.

In a moment of extraordinary bravery, the girl shoves the papers into my chest as she glares up at me. “Here asshole, now get lost!”

I stumble back a moment, disbelief washing over me. And I have no idea why but I’m grinning back at her. This temperamental, wild creature in front of me who has the nerve to put me in my place. She’s staring back at me, just as bewildered as I am about the stupid grin on my face. As I reach down to retrieve the papers pressed against my chest, I purposely brush my hand against hers. Her skin is soft, just like I expected, and I can only imagine how well it would do beneath my flogger.

But I can see that she’s getting ready to leave, and I have to engage her somehow. I have to know more about her.

“Excuse me,” I say. “But how am I the asshole here? What have I done to warrant that response?”

My mocking laughter only makes her more determined. “Well, let’s see…” She cocks her hand on her hip as she rises to her feet. “You’re standing there like you think you own the damn place, tapping your foot at me while you treat me like I’m an idiot. A gentleman might have offered to actually help instead of worrying about getting his expensive suit dirty.”

My jaw clenches at her response. Of course, that’s how she would see me.

“Well, technically speaking,” I say coolly, “this is my building you almost took me out in front of. So forgive me for not feeling obliged to help when I, in fact, did nothing wrong.”

“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Spare me the bullshit. I know exactly who you are and I’m not impressed. You can forget about me pandering to your ego if that’s what you expect. I don’t give a shit what your last name is, your manners suck. And on that note, I have already taken up too much of your precious time, so you can leave now.”

I laugh because it can’t be helped. There is something about this woman’s hostility that turns me on.

Nobody- especially women- ever talk to me that way. And I find it oddly refreshing. She’s intriguing and exciting in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. In an attempt to save face with her, I bend down and help her retrieve the rest of her parcels. Her mouth almost falls open in astonishment.

Paul the driver emerges from the black sedan at the curb, surprising me. I didn’t even see him pull up. He clears his throat nervously before speaking.

“I apologize, sir, for running late. I can take you now.”

I wave him off without speaking, much to his relief. I was probably a complete dick to him on the phone earlier whether I meant it or not. Maybe my manners really do suck.

“You were right before,” I say. “I forgot my manners. I should have helped you. It’s New York, and it’s not often you meet people who aren’t inherently rude. But I can see now you obviously aren’t from here, and I apologize for being an asshole… in your terms.”

She tries to hide the small smile from her mouth. “Well, that’s a roundabout way of making an apology, but I’ll take it. Anyway, I should have been paying better attention, so I guess I should apologize as well. I’m sorry I ran into you, and that now I’ve apparently made you late as well. Um, so anyway… have a good day.”