“You’re pissing me off,” she said quietly, her eyes still searching my face.
“And that’s turning me on,” I retorted, my voice flat. “So you might wanna tone down the hate glares if you don’t wanna find yourself being fucked on this desk with the blinds still open.”
I was still staring at my screen, working on the merger deal I was eager to get signed before Christmas, but I could see from my peripheral that she had paled. I liked how—once again—I’d gotten under her skin. Quickly.
“You’re disgusting,” she muttered, still staring at me—but not in a way that suggested she was appalled.
I cracked my neck, opening my browser and checking the stocks on the screen, skimming through the greens and the reds. “That may well be, but I’m balls deep in your fucking head, Help, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Her eyes glittered with rage, and fuck, I was so hard, and fuck, she was so beautiful. This was so on. I was going to fuck Dean’s ex-girlfriend, use her for my personal needs, and toss her away when I was done.
And after choosing the wrong guy, there was no doubt in my mind, she deserved it too.
“You just gave Floyd a lecture about the inter-office fraternization policy. No mixing business and pleasure.” She leaned forward. Her elbow touched my finger accidentally, and she jerked it away.
I met her halfway, erasing the space between us across the desk. “Correction—guys like Floyd won’t give you pleasure. Men like me would. Besides, the man likes Arrow,” I drawled, as if this alone was a reason to fire him.
To me, it was.
“You know what your problem is, Vicious? You still haven’t decided if you hate me or like me. That’s why you act like this every time I’m around other men.” There wasn’t a trace of embarrassment in her voice. She owned up to this.
What she didn’t know was that I knew exactly how I felt about her.
I hated her, but was attracted to her. It was really that simple.
“You know what I feel right now, Ms. LeBlanc? I feel like you need to pack a fucking bag and start making the necessary arrangements. You’re coming with me to California, whether you like it or not.”
L.J. Shen resides in sunny California with her husband, son, chubby cat and wild, wild dreams.
Her passion is to write badass stories, sushi, UFC and her awesome family and friends (not in this order, though. Obviously, sushi comes before writing. Oh, and also the family part.)
She spend the first half of her twenties traveling the world and is now paying all the fun with extra shifts in front of her MacBook. Feel free to contact her on her Facebook page. She loves to hear from her readers.
Good sweet Jesus. LJ Shen is the master of bringing characters to life. And I don't state that lightly.
Vicious scared the living fuck outta me. He intimidated the shit outta me. I was ready for him to show up at my door and come bully me. I still am fully expecting him to. He is the epitome of a jerk. Truly a scary as fuck bullying mean asshole jerk. I still liked him though. And he seems so real. So fucking real that I don't feel like he is just a character in a book. He's not. He's real and going to kill us all for talking about him. And I'm still scared of him.
Him. He is the reason that I'm convinced Shen is the master of bringing characters to life. Not to minimize Emilia. My point being is that I felt Vicious. Every step of this book. Every move. Every motion. And I'm still intimidated by the dude. Cruella DeVicious.
At any rate. The book isn't just about Vicious, even though it is and that's what the book is called. But it's a brilliantly written bumpy long road of Vicious AND Emilia. Emilia really should have kicked his ass in the beginning. But dude... he's scary. God love Emilia. (She is real too.)
Love all the HotHoles and can't wait for more of them. Because did I mention? Characters. Master of the characters I hate to love and love to hate.