Chapter Two Larissa #2
“Your neighbor in 16C has a penchant for hiring company to cure his lonely nights.” I gesture to my lingerie-clad body in explanation.
The fact that I’m aware of his neighbor’s habit of hiring call girls grabs a fraction more of his attention, and it’s then that the Tyler Jennings I expected to meet finally recognizes me. The turn is instant, sharp, and so abrupt I would take a step back if I could.
“Last chance to tell me who the fuck you are,” he barks with the bite of a junkyard dog. Searching to find my carefully rehearsed words, the threatening shift in the air palpable, I open my mouth just as he does.
“Time’s up.” He palms my chest to keep me idle, his finger pressing the charm on my necklace into the divot at my throat as he pulls his cell from his pocket, barking an order the second the call is answered. “Give me everything.”
Time starts to tick by, and I wait patiently, knowing that whoever is on the other end of the line is giving him every detail of my life up to the second I entered his building.
Hope and fear engulf me in equal measure as he keeps me captive in an unforgiving gaze, no trace of the white-hot flames there just moments ago.
He listens for a few lengthy minutes, assessing me through a new lens. When I attempt to close my jacket, he refuses my movement, his rough palm hot on my skin, his intent clear.
My stupid body responds to this dangerous version as much as it did the one mere seconds ago, as my painfully tight nipples continue to ache in confusion at the loss of his attention.
His interest in me now entirely redirected, as if he wasn’t just voicing plans for the use of my body and I wasn’t about to come on his fingers.
He barks a quick “16C is to relocate by this week’s end, understood? ” before ending his call.
“All right, Larissa, what the fuck do you want?”
I deflate as the recognition I was hoping for doesn’t appear. He doesn’t know. He can’t know, or his reaction would be far different.
“Can we stow away the impatience and hostility for a second and possibly grant some benefit of the doubt? I’ve gone through a lot of trouble to get to your door.
I have a proposition for you. Something real, and I need you to be open to that.
I’m aware that this wasn’t the best way to come to you for a conversation.
I just couldn’t think of another way to approach—”
“Talk, and spare me any personal history. I know all I need to,” he commands as his scent continues to dizzy me.
He’s deadly, and not just in the physical sense.
I reason with myself that it’s not just his appeal, and more that Tyler is not just any man.
Even with the knowledge of what it feels like to have his physical attention and the residual ache from the loss of it, I admire him.
He’s more than just an advisor to the president, an ex-marine, and a good patriot. In fact, his secrets could probably rival the most shocking headlines in history.
Behind his seductive armor, there’s far more to him than I can ever imagine unpacking.
A brilliant modern-day Bond without any theatrics.
A myth you only hear about in fables. But in that respect, our stories could rival one another.
My existence is a myth, too, and that’s what I need to make him understand.
It’s just that right now, both man and myth are stealing my ability to put together a cohesive sentence despite my own line of expertise.
“Can I have a little personal space?” I ask, knowing his proximity now is only for intimidation purposes. He hasn’t so much as given my lace-covered body a second glance since our little mix-up.
Even as I think it, his gaze briefly dips as he releases me fully.
Skin burning, I secure my jacket tightly and put what I can of myself back together—lips and body still tingling.
I’ve spent far too much time fantasizing about this moment in a nonsexual way to let what just happened take away a second more.
“So now someone has told you my background, and you think you know me,” I tell him. “But I’m asking you to hear me out despite what was just reported to you.”
“Like I said,” he utters dryly, “I know all I need to.”
“Don’t do that,” I say. “Don’t dismiss me.
You and I both know appearances can be deceiving.
Maybe every single thing you’re noticing about me, down to my pulse rate, is fabricated and manipulated.
Like I said, I know who and what you are.
” This has him pausing and reassessing. “Don’t assume anything, Tyler, I’m here to help you. ”
He exhales. “With?”
“For one, I’m here to warn you to stop boasting about your recent successes.”
“And just what in the hell do you know about that?” He grips my wrist with pressure bordering on pain.
“You were raised on a modest farm outside of Asheville and managed to work your way to an Ivy League diploma. You worked for a short time at a clerk’s desk for a media conglomerate to get your foot in the door.
How, in any way, does that make you of value to me? ”
Utterly disappointed in what he just relayed, I decide to give him only part of the truth.
“Simply that.” I shrug. “And with a background in media,” I lie, “I’ve made important connections.
It’s no secret you are heavily involved with FLEET Media, and because I know of the mark on your arm and what it represents, I can only suspect you have much to do with what you’re reporting.
I’m here to warn you that you’re stirring a hornet’s nest whose full scope you can’t possibly fathom.
You need to stop bragging about your accomplishments on air, because they’re searching for you, and it’s only a matter of time. ”
“And you would know of that mark because?”
“I’m getting to that, and I’m sure you are exhausted. I mean, after all, you’ve come a long, long way since Triple Falls, old neighbor, and I do hope you had a good time during your most recent visit.”
Contempt starts to roll off him as I knock on the devil’s door with my soul at stake, but I resign myself to finish what I’ve just started.
“Your secret is safe with me, Tyler. I’ve been watching you from afar for some time, and I want to assure you that I’m not here to threaten you in any capacity. ”
“If you’re aware of all of that, then you should know starting this conversation with me is the worst possible fucking thing you could do.
” I can see his mind racing with explanations for how I might know this information.
As he scrutinizes me, I can see the conclusions he’s drawing before he speaks them.
“What is this? An attempt to get in so you can use my ink to build a story and get a leg up?” he chastises.
“Look, I don’t know which one of your girlfriends back home fucked and bagged a bird and decided to brag over coffee, but this isn’t the way in.
And I hate to break it to you, but we’ve killed a dozen or more stories like this all for the same reason.
” His threat echoes in the space. “And I’m warning you now, none of those ambitious fucks—male or female—got far enough in life to reach any career milestone.
We’re equal opportunity on that fucking front.
” All warmth gone, his tone and eyes are subzero when he speaks again.
“Choose your next words very carefully, Larissa Moretti.”
“Jesus.” I exhale a breath of disappointment at both his conclusions and the name he just spoke. “I credited you with more intelligence than this.”
“Well then, give me something that tells me you’re more than a worker bee who’s looking for her big break or far too morbidly fucking curious about the ink.”
“Maybe that would be my angle if I were a journalist, you fucking fool. Did you not hear a word I just said?” I take in a breath of patience, deciphering how much more I want to reveal before deciding I’m wasting my time.
His eyes narrow before he pins me back to the door, his forearm pressed against my throat. I’m still able to move, but am trapped by his posture alone, along with the menace in his expression.
“Fine, I’m overlooking something. It’s been a long, eventful day, and I’m exhausted, Larissa, so why don’t you decode this bullshit for me and kick this little introduction into overdrive so we can get to its conclusion.”
“This was a mistake,” I say. “I’m the fool. Just forget this happened. Maybe consider this a word of advice from an old neighbor and fan of your work.”
“And now I’m annoyed,” he snaps, “and getting more so by the second. You’re not leaving until you tell me how you know what you do.”
“You’re sexually frustrated and drunk, and I’m not in the business of mincing words only to have them fall on deaf ears. I’ve told you everything I’m going to.” I shrug. “I’m sorry I ruined your night. I’ll leave.”
He keeps me pinned. “I’m afraid you’ve said one too many magic words to just be able to walk out of here, Larissa.”
“Why? Like you said, I’m just a pissant, a worker bee. How could I possibly help you? I’ve already cleared your little background check, but you now know where to find me if you want to prematurely end my life or career.”
“Why are you here?” He repeats the question I now refuse to answer.
Out of patience, I deflate completely as I spout my rehearsed backpedaling dialogue.
“As trite as this may sound, I do admire you, and maybe I was hoping for a way in. You’ve made it clear you’re not interested, so I’ll take my leave.
” I can’t help my smug smirk. “I would say it was a pleasure to meet you, but the only pleasure I got was during our silent exchange.”
Turning, I open his front door a fraction before it’s smacked closed and I’m once again pinned against it.
“You’re not going anywhere.” He keeps a palm firmly on my back, pressing my cheek to the door. He shifts behind me before barking another order.
“Get one of our guest rooms ready,” he snaps. “I’m sending her down now.” He ends the call and exhales. “I hope you didn’t have any big plans for tomorrow.”
“Oh, come on, you just said I’m not the first to know of your little club’s existence. I am no threat to you,” I repeat. “I will admit I’m wildly intrigued and was hoping—”
“What?” he scoffs, his breath hitting my ear. “That I would fill in a few gaps for you? Answer some questions? You can’t be serious. Are you sure you know who the fuck I am?”
I play my part as the thought of going back starts to undo me. I’ll find a way to get it done. I owe it to myself to try, but first, I have to get from under the suspicion of the man now blocking me from that attempt.
“Just …” I close my eyes briefly for patience. “… forgive my ignorance in assuming and release me.”
“You’ve already lied to me six times,” he snaps. “So, until you start spilling some truth, you’re not going anywhere.” Gripping my waist, he pulls me back to his chest. I sink into his hold, his erection still present and steel at my backside. My own fire rekindled as his breath hits my neck.
“What. Do. You. Want. Larissa?” He enunciates each word with menacing emphasis.
“My freedom,” I say truthfully, knowing he’ll only believe the part that pertains to his hold on me. “And I can further your agenda with Monroe in a way you can’t fathom.”
This statement gives him pause. Pause I can only feel as he keeps me locked against him.
“You don’t think I have two dozen of your type in my pocket already?
See, the difference between me and whatever assholes you’re working for is that we don’t spin narrative.
We report the fucking truth.” He releases me and chuckles, shaking his head in a blatant insult as he opens the door for me, allowing me to walk out.
“I gave you far too much credit.” I turn back to him and see his eyes assessing me repeatedly, taking in every detail. “When the blood finally retreats back to your brain from your cock, you’ll be lucky if my offer still stands.”
“Doubtful I’ll be changing my mind, sweetheart,” he muses. “Tuck in and sleep tight. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I turn my back on him, my hidden grin just as smug as I shake my head.
Any guilt I might have had for putting him in this position leaves me as I stalk toward the elevator, knowing his eyes are on me.
Tightening my jacket, I think better of it and instead allow it to drop to my feet without missing a step.
The click of his shoes behind me continues without interruption despite my practical nudity, but I can feel his eyes hot on my skin.
Stepping into the elevator, I turn to see him standing in the middle of the hall, hands in his suit pants, watching me with hawk-like observation.
I nod toward the rock-hard erection still tenting his slacks.
“Enjoy my parting gift,” I snark, giving him a mock salute. We glare at one another, his eyes fracturing me brutally without a single change in expression. He’s trained himself impeccably.
I press the L button for the lobby, my aggravation hitting its peak when he dismisses me, stalking back toward his door.
Posted against the back of the elevator car, heels crossed at my ankles, furious due to his idiotic dismissal, and admittedly still a little sexually frustrated, I flip off one of two cameras trained on me as I mutter my contempt.
“Yep, just a farm girl … C-i-c-c-o,” I mimic in the fashion of Old MacDonald, “much like you were just a fucking mechanic, citrullo.” Dumbass.
Shifting my focus out of the elevator, I see Tyler stopped mid-step, posture ramrod straight, head cocked back to me, eyes narrowing further and further into slits. Though seemingly impossible, it’s obvious he didn’t miss a single word I just uttered.
I see it the second he recognizes the threat standing inside his elevator, but it’s too late.
“Sleep tight,” I mimic in the same condescending tone he granted me, flashing him my most menacing smile just as he starts to race toward me while the doors close.