Hitched: Volume One Page 14

“The infamous Noah Tate, not interested in chasing tail? Do I need to call you an ambulance?” she teases. “Or are you just having too much fun bugging me and keeping me away from work?”

My temper rising, I stand my ground. “Because I think of myself as a taken man now.”

Her eyebrows dart up. “Are you serious? You’re really not going to mess around?”

“Not with anyone who isn’t you,” I say smoothly.

“I—um . . . So, monogamy really is part of the deal?” she stammers. “I’ve had a standing Wednesday-night thing with a guy from the gym. Should I cancel that for the next little bit?”

My nostrils flare and I bite back my temper. “Hell yeah, it is, and yeah, you should. What goes for me, goes for you. You aren’t to mess around with anyone who isn’t me. I don’t even want to think about another man touching what’s mine.” I lean down and growl the last part close to her ear.

She sucks in her breath, her pupils dilating, then composes herself. “As long as you know that this works both ways. If I find your totem pole next to anyone else, consider yourself castrated. Think Lorena Bobbitt, but without the whole finding-it part.”

On the surface, her reaction isn’t exactly promising. But I know that deep down, I’ve affected her. I’ve seen the way she looks at me when she doesn’t think I’m watching.

“And for the record, I was kidding about the guy at the gym, Noah.”

Thank God, because I was already planning to go down to her gym after work and find the helpless fuck to punch him square in the kisser.

I step away from her desk and watch as Olivia’s eyes narrow on my form. Tucking my hands into my pockets, I almost chuckle as her gaze follows the movement, her eyes drifting down to my crotch. But they dart up again and she lets out a frustrated huff.

“If you’re so confident, how about we place a bet?” I ask.

“Name your terms.”

She smirks at me, pretending to be unaffected. Too bad I know exactly the effect I can have on a woman when I turn on the charm.

I lean in closer. “I’ll give you four days until you’re begging for me to fill your hot little cunt,” I murmur.

Her jaw drops, but she recovers quickly. “Not even in four years.”

“I was going to say four hours, but I didn’t want to get cocky,” I tease.

“Trust me. I can hold out for a long time.” Olivia leans back in her desk chair, her pose casual and confident.

“Dry spell?”

She rolls her eyes. “Perpetually.”

Fuck. That makes me want her so much more, knowing that she’s all pent-up and unsatisfied.

“No battery-operated boyfriends.”

Her gaze darkens. “Fine. No hand jobs either then.”

My jaw tenses. Like that will happen. “There’s always the trial run I proposed at happy hour.”

She chews on her thumbnail. “I haven’t had time to consider it yet, but I’ll keep you posted when I decide.”

A knock on the door grabs our attention. It’s Fred.

“Hey, kids, time for the meeting.”

Olivia checks her watch. “Be there right away, Dad.”

Knowing our conversation isn’t even close to finished, I offer her a hand to assist her from her seat, bringing her eye level with me. “We’ll finish this later, Snowflake.”

She scoffs and struts down the hall in front of me, her gorgeous round ass swaying as she moves.

“Four days,” I call to her as I catch up.

Chapter Eight

Olivia

Late the next afternoon, a knock on my office door startles me out of my work trance. “Come in,” I say automatically.

The door cracks open and Dad pokes his head in. “Hey there, sweetie. Sorry if I’m interrupting anything, but could we talk for a minute in my office?”

I blink first at him, then at my computer screen before closing my laptop. “Sure, Dad. What do you need?”

“It’s good news, I promise,” is all he says.

I follow Dad to his office, where Noah is already sitting in one of the armchairs. He stands up when we walk in.

I glance between him and Dad suspiciously. What fresh hell is this?

Dad picks up a thin sheaf of papers from his desk. “In all the recent hubbub, I forgot to tell you kids about my wedding gift.” He hands over the document with a proud smile.

I scan the first page and my heart plummets. It’s a signed lease for a furnished penthouse apartment in the heart of the city, its security deposit already paid, as well as first and last month’s rent. And there’s only one bedroom.

No way.

Realizing that I probably shouldn’t just stand here in a stupor, I say, “Oh. Um . . . wow, Dad. This is so generous.”

Dad chuckles and squeezes my shoulder. “Anything for my girl. I figured you two wouldn’t have much time to go house-hunting right now, so I found you a place myself.”

“Thank you very much, sir. I’m sure we’ll love it,” Noah interjects.

Jackass. He always knows exactly what to say, how to smooth over any situation. Whereas I’m struggling to remember how to breathe.

I force a tight-lipped smile at my dear, sweet future husband. “Yes. Noah, can we talk about this in your office? There’s a lot of arrangements that need to be made.”

• • •

As soon as we’re alone with the door locked, I let my emotions burst free.

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