Chapter 11 #3
She was clutching her stomach as she continued to laugh. “Need to send your face to the group chat. This moment needs to be preserved forever.”
“Don’t you dare, you bitch,” I seethed. I so badly wanted to go to her and snatch her phone away, but I was more terrified of what my fingers would do if I removed them from the freezing water.
“Get it together, Sami. Or I’m gonna pee my pants.” She howled with laughter as she typed something on the phone. I knew she’d sent the picture to the group when I heard the ping of the notification on my phone.
“You bitch. I’m gonna ruin you.”
She showed me a finger. “Pull it together, Samaira Sharma. When is he coming?”
I turned off the tap and slapped both my cheeks. Hard. “Probably in thirty minutes now. ”
She barely contained her laugh as she ran her eyes from my head to my toes. “You want to change for him?”
I threw the nearest thing I found—Shadow’s chew toy—at her, which she easily caught, and started laughing. She got back to her chair and said, “Go change, Sami. You do look like shit.”
Just because of that, I absolutely did not want to change. But then Dominic’s face popped into my mind. What if he came in his stupid three-piece suit, and I was sitting in my tank top and shorts? I then looked at my thick-ass thighs and smirked. Maybe not changing wasn’t a bad idea after all.
Was I trying to impress him with my body? Had I stooped so fucking low so fast?
I could feel Tara’s gaze boring into me as I walked back and forth, trying to decide on my fucking outfit.
When I turned my helpless eyes to her, she bit her lip as if trying not to laugh at my pathetic state.
“You’ve already lost, babe. Just change if you want to look presentable and stay put if you want to make him bite his tongue off. ”
I sighed in defeat, disappointed at myself for being so…so…obsessed over a guy.
Fuck it. He wouldn’t make me change into a new pair of clothes. I was going to stay put, and if he found my thighs sexy, then it was his problem. Not mine.
And that was exactly how I opened the door to the basement level when he arrived thirty minutes later.
He was not dressed in a three-piece suit like I’d thought—secretly hoped.
Because the universe was out to get me and bite me in the ass, he, too, was wearing his workout gear.
Unlike some dudes who wore long-sleeved T-shirts and joggers, this man wore a loose sweatshirt with giant holes for sleeves, showing off his thick arms with bulging biceps, while holding what looked like three large boxes of pizza.
It was obscene, really. His suit and this morning’s T-shirt really didn’t do enough justice to his chest. It was wide, his shoulders popping from the sleeves, and that just made me want to climb him like a tree.
I was so lost in checking him out that I didn’t realize that he was busy with his own perusal. Thankfully, I was the one who pulled myself together before him. I watched his Adam's apple bob as his eyes were glued to my legs.
I cleared my throat, snapping his attention to my eyes.
I gave him a quick quirk of my eyebrows in a caught you gesture, making him shake his head.
“Come in.” I turned around to walk to the desk I’d set up with my laptop and a few prints of the suspects with basic information on them.
Considering they were all some kind of public figure, I was guessing Dominic might recognize at least a few of them.
I heard a low growl behind me as he followed me. “I brought pizza,” he said, placing the boxes in the empty space on the desk.
A loud gurgling sound came from my stomach, startling us both. His eyes narrowed. “When did you last eat?”
I looked away from him and sat down, pretending to think. “I had the smoothie.”
His eyes widened and turned into a storm of worry and anger. “That was in the morning after your workout. What the hell, Samaira? You haven’t eaten the whole day?”
Before I could answer him, he opened the box, grabbed the biggest slice of pepperoni pizza, placed it on a paper napkin, and handed it to me. “Pepperoni okay? Do you eat meat?”
“Should’ve asked me before handing over the pizza,” I grumbled, biting into the slice with gusto.
He opened another box. “I got veggie pizza too.”
“Pepperoni is fine,” I mumbled between the bites. Something warm tugged in my chest at the way he was looking at me right now. Like me not eating hurt him . Like he genuinely cared.
“Aren't you going to eat?” I asked him after he kept glowering at me, his hip leaning against the desk, his arms folded across his chest.
He rounded the desk and sat on the chair next to me. He grabbed a veggie slice for himself, biting into it. “ I didn’t starve myself.”
He kept looking at me as he ate, the intensity of his gaze unnerving me. I rarely, if ever, allowed a man close enough to me for him to bring me food. The only people I’d ever allowed to be there for me were my Wildcats.
It might just be that I’d never had a real connection with any man before, which was making me so mushy for just getting a pizza from a guy.
Even friends bring pizza for each other.
Considering he was a billionaire, he would’ve looked stupid if he’d come empty-handed.
Yep, that was it. There was no need to feel so soft for him.
He was our client.
Just. A. Client.
Then why was my heart fluttering around my chest like a fool?