Page 25 of Brutal King
No, I thought, steeling myself. Don’t let him have the last laugh. Don’t let him play you like this. If he realizes that you want him, he’ll use it against you.
Putting aside my attraction to him and the unexpected arousal that had me going weak, I pushed him off me.
“Okay, fine,” I said. “Get out of here and I’ll put on the pantsuit.”
His eyes widened with momentary surprise. Aha, he didn’t think I had it in me to push him away like that.
Well, make that one point for me.
He quickly got a hold of himself and slapped that arrogant smirk back on, a smirk that bordered on disgust.
“Make it quick,” he snapped as he walked out.
With an indignant huff, I stepped out of my yoga shorts and pulled on the streamline pants; snug on the butt, narrow at the calf, hemmed just above the ankle. I opened a lingerie drawer and pulled out the prettiest white bra I had; delicate, soft lace that didn’t leave any lumps or bumps through the thin fabric of my white button-down shirt. I left the three top buttons unbuttoned and popped the collar wide to give me a professional yet appealing neckline. I shrugged on the jacket and slipped my feet into plain black two-inch leather pumps.
Leaving the closet, I headed to the dresser that had a nice tall mirror. I combed out my hair and pulled it back into a clean and tight chignon. The final touches; a light brush of mascara, a touch of eye shadow, a hint of blush and a swipe of classic red lipstick.
“There,” I said to my very professional looking reflection. “Try to find fault with that, Kobe. I look perfect.”
I shoved a few things – car keys, identification, lipstick – into my small Prada handbag and headed out.
“Ready to go,” I said, happy I’d caught myself before asking for his opinion.
“Hang on,” he said. “Let’s take a good look at you.” Grabbing my shoulders, he forced me to spin around for him. “The suit is perfect. Fits nice. Crisp white shirt. I think you should button up, however.”
“No,” I said.
“You’re not going to impress them with your body, Kat. You want to impress them with your mind.”
“Spare me the ‘don’t use sex to get what you want’ argument. You know damned well that I’m not showing too much skin... no cleavage.”
“Fine.” He looked down at my feet. “I guess you know better than I do if you can stay on your feet in those shoes or not.”
“That’s right. Now let’s get going.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute.” He grabbed my chin, tilted my face up and inspected my make-up. “No. No. That’s all wrong.” He reached out for a tissue and proceeded to clumsily wipe the blush and eyeshadow off.
“Kobe,” I said, pushing his hand away. “What are you doing? You’re just going to smear everything around.”
“Don’t worry. I’m just taking the shine down a notch. You’ll still look prett... um... okay.”
I hid a smile. Did he almost say that I looked pretty?
“And this lipstick,” he went on as he brought the tissue to my lips. “Too dark. Wrong shade of red.”
His eyes suddenly glazed over, much as they had when he’d pressed me up against the wall. He slowly wiped the lipstick off, mesmerized by my pouting lips.
The tissue left my lips feeling dry and I unwittingly licked them to bring some moisture back. Kobe stopped wiping and held his breath for a moment.
“You’re a spoiled little princess, you know that? A spoiled little brat who needs a spanking,” he said deeply, as he suddenly tossed the tissue aside and backed away.
My gosh, his voice had lowered, and his eyes hooded so sexily, I gulped.
Then he said, “This isn’t a debutant ball. This is work. Real work.” All business, just like that.
He turned to march into the bathroom.
“Where are you going?”