Page 27 of Brutal King
She opened the door and... Damn.
Those yoga shorts hugged her hips so perfectly, and that tank top... oh my God. Tearing my eyes away from those perfect orbs just begging to be cupped, to be kissed... it was nearly impossible.
“Um... ah,” she stammered.
I was happy to see that she was as shaken up as I was.
Stop staring at her breasts. Stop. Stop!
Damn, why did they have to be so perfect? Why did they have to be on display in the most enticing way?
I dropped my gaze to the floor. I had to or I would jump on her right then and there. “Nice cat slippers,” I said. Damn, did I feel like a dunce. Nice slippers? Shit, can’t you think of anything smarter to say? I’ve been with so many women before, but not like this. This was Katrina. My Katrina. The girl I thought about all the time until my Dad literally dragged me away from anything to do with her.
There she was. In the flesh, and she was now a woman with her perfectly round boobs, her enticing hips, and her innocent sweet face.
How can I think of anything better to say when all I want to do is tear off that tank top and dive in between her perfect tits.
I barged in, not giving her a chance to keep me out. I ignored her protests, ignored the fact that she wasn’t prepared to begin the project that morning. I simply bossed her around, telling her what I wanted, and telling her how I wanted it.
If only she knew what I really wanted. If only she knew just how hot she was, just how hot I was for her.
Damn, what had happened to that innocent and cute little girl? A woman. A beautiful and intelligent woman... maybe a little unsure of herself at times, but I could see there was something simmering beneath the uncertainty. She had more potential than I wanted to admit. I had always admire her feisty spirit, but now she seemed more refined, proper, an elegant young lady.
I followed her to her closet and quickly dismissed the big designer names. They didn’t impress me... not much.
“I was planning on wearing this midi dress.”
“A mini dress? To an important first meeting? Get serious.”
“Not a mini dress, Kobe. A midi dress.”
A little befuddled, I waited for her to go on. While I prided myself on knowing a lot about the fashion industry, my knowledge of women’s fashion was limited.
She brought her hand high on her thigh. “Mini.” She bent over to slap her hand below the knee. “Midi.”
“Yeah. I know that,” I lied.
Who cares. Wear whatever you want. You look great in anything... especially those yoga shorts and tank. They hug you like a second skin.
“Midi or mini, I don’t care. I want you to wear a pantsuit.”
“No.”
“This is serious. I take this project very seriously.”
“As do I,” she countered. She put her hands on her hip and looked directly at me... not the least bit intimidated by my stance.
“Then dress appropriately,” I shot back.
She pouted and frowned and prepared to argue with me. My God, she looked delicious. The angrier and more defiant she became, the more she appealed to me.
Such a contradiction; I hated defiance and expected those around me to do as I said. And yet, when she jutted out her chin and held her own in the face of my authority... I admired her. I envied her.
To combat that envy, I pushed back and tried to make her feel small.
“This is one of the most prestigious and advanced classes, Kat. Mr. Singh is an important figure in the world of restaurant execs. A recommendation from him means everything... maybe not to you... but to me it means everything.”
I didn’t want to admit to Kat just how pleased I was that we would be working at one of her family’s restaurants. I was secretly impressed by her family’s accomplishments, but damn if I was going to let her know about it.