The doors ding open and I follow her into the condo. It’s massive. The entire floor. “How many square feet?” I ask as I walk over to the windows to take in the view of the mountains. Nice.
“Three thousand plus, two bedrooms, three bathrooms, office, formal living, formal dining, and a media room. The kitchen is this way.” She leads me past the dining room and into the kitchen. “It’s staged for an open house tomorrow, but if you’re interested, I can see if Mr. Mansi wants to sell the furniture too.”
Uh-huh. She wants to play tour guide with me? Pretend like this day never happened? I can play. “How you get over here? You walk?” I look her dead in the eye as she lies.
“Yes.”
“Why you carrying a backpack? Just trying to make shit easier as you hoof it around town?”
“Uh…” She squints her eyes at me. She knows I’m trapping her. “Yes, actually. It’s more practical. Carries more, too.”
“Have you made plans to buy a new car?” I volley back.
“Yeah, my friend Carson is gonna take me looking later,” she lies again.
“Did you know Rook went to the doctor today?”
She sighs in defeat. “What do you want, Spencer? You want me to say no? Yes? Which one is the right answer? You want to know what the f**k I did today? Huh? You want to know how I found this place? You want to know who Mr. Mansi is?”
“Yes, yes, and motherfucking yes,” I reply as I pace the kitchen. “I want to know all that and more.”
She smiles and I steady myself for the explosion.
“Well, Mr. Shrike, I’ve been a very busy girl today. And since I’m on the payroll, I guess I do owe you an answer.”
I nod my head. “Damn f**king right you do, woman.”
She laughs a little at my caveman impersonation. Bomb loves the caveman, so I’m not worried.
“Well, I didn’t go to the doctor with Rook, nope. But I did see her today. She had to go out to your farm to pick something up.”
“Hmmmm,” I hum out as I start putting the pieces together.
“And since I had all that money from selling the car you bought me for graduation, I decided to buy her bike instead. And I actually did get an invitation from my friend Carson to go car-shopping with him, but I turned him down because I’m good as far as the whole ride thing goes.”
“You bought Rook’s bike? You bought my f**king bike? You purchased my f**king bike?”
She smiles a smile that’s so big, the sun bounces off her perfect teeth and makes them sparkle. “I sure did.”
I just stare at her. “Are you f**king insane? What the hell is wrong with you?” I pace the kitchen and rub my hands over the short stubble on my head. “Goddammit, Veronica! Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?”
I turn back, waiting for an answer. But she simply smiles.
“You’re gonna sell me that bike back.”
“I am not,” she says calmly.
“Are.”
“Not. I bought it, I just had it registered, I have insurance on it. And I’m gonna ride the f**k out of that bike all damn summer.”
I realize I’m going about this all wrong. All wrong. So I stop and take a deep breath. “Veronica,” I say softly. “Bombshell, listen—”
Smack! My face is stinging from her slap.
“What the f**k was that for? Jesus Christ, Ronnie—”
Smack!
I palm my face and stare at her. Her brows are knitted together, the tight muscles in her jaw are contracting, her little fists are clenching. “Don’t call me that name again, Spencer. I mean it. We’re done. You think you can use my body any way you see fit in the back alley of a donut shop, then walk away like I’m some piece of trash not even worthy of reciprocal pleasure?”
I spin on my heel so I can smile and she can’t see me. She’s pissed that I left her hanging?
No, that can’t be all of it. She’s had this day planned. She knew what she was doing before I showed up and f**ked her in the alley.
She’s still yelling at me, calling me names, insisting I’m a pig. But I tune it all out as I plan my next move. I only got one as far as I can tell. I mean, I can bring out the big guns, but it’s not time for that yet. So this will have to do.
I turn. She’s all red-faced, still spouting off about this and that. I walk slowly up to her and she points her finger in my face. I grab it and she gasps.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes are wide as I bring her finger to my mouth.
She swallows.
My other hand comes up and grabs her at the wrist so she can’t break away when I start to suck on her fingertip. I bite it, and she tries to pull back, but I have her good now. “Come closer, Veronica. Don’t back away,” I say in a low rumbling voice.
“No,” she gasps. “No. No, no, no. I’m not getting caught in your—”
I lick the length of her finger, then dip to the sensitive webbing of skin just above her knuckle.
“Ohhh, hell,” she whines as my tongue flicks back and forth between her fingers.
“I can do more than this, Bombshell.”
I wait for the slap, but she opts for the hard swallow again.
I push her gently over towards the granite-topped island in the middle of the kitchen. It hits her at the waist and she has to bend backwards, because I do not stop pushing. “What are you doing?” she whispers and looks around nervously.