Chapter Four
River
"Son of a bitch," I growl, my concentration shot to hell as soon as the doorbell rings. For the first time all week, the words are finally flowing…and now this. I shove my chair back from my desk, muttering a string of curses as I stomp out of my office and then down the hall to the living room.
The doorbell rings again before I make it to the door.
"Give me a damn minute!" I yell, pissed as I unlatch the lock.
Who the fuck comes over at 8:05 am on a Thursday, anyway? No one I want to see, that's who. Everyone in my inner circle knows not to bother me from seven to three on weekdays. Anyone who doesn't know that isn't in the…
My internal diatribe dies as soon as I rip the door open to see Jasmine standing on my front porch, looking more beautiful than she did yesterday.
The sunlight catches in her blonde hair, turning the strands a fiery gold.
Her eyes are the same stunning blue, though the usually bright hue is muted this morning.
She'd dressed like she's prepared for war, though she doesn't need armor for this battle. Her little baby doll dress and chunky heels are enough to bring me to my fucking knees. How is a man supposed to get a goddamn thing done when a woman like her is walking around out there, looking this edible?
"Good morning," she says. "Can we talk?"
"About the fact that you're on my doorstep at eight in the morning? Absolutely." I cross my arms, leaning up against the doorframe. "I have questions, like how the hell do you know where I live, princess?"
"I followed you home yesterday."
If anyone else said that sentence to me, I'd already be on the phone, calling the police. But for some reason, the fact that she's the one who just said it has my dick hard enough to fuck her clear through the stucco.
I'm being stalked by the world's most relentless book club recruiter, and I'm too fucking horny to be mad about it.
Jesus H. Christ. This is ridiculous.
"You know," I say slowly, "I've got an inbox full of emails from people trying to convince me to send one book or another to this book club or that. They're all bullshit scams, and they're all relentless as fuck. They're inventive as hell, too. But you might just beat them all."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"Oh, but it is." She grins at me. "I bet you block and delete without even responding to them. And yet, here you are, having a full-on conversation with me."
"Do we need to revisit the whole stalking concept again?" I ask, one brow arched.
"You know I'm an avid romance reader, right?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Stalking in romance is how you show affection."
My gaze travels down her body, a grin tugging at my lips. "Is that what this is?"
"Definitely not." Her nose scrunches, but she can't hide the way her cheeks turn pink, like maybe she doesn't dislike me nearly as much as she wants me to think she does. "I just meant that stalking isn't always a bad thing in my world."
I laugh abruptly. "You are so full of shit. Stalking is bad in every world. There are tribes who have never had contact with modern civilization who probably know that, Jasmine."
"Yeah, well, my world is different. You should know that since you write romance. Besides, I'm harmless. I just want to have a conversation with you," she says.
She's the furthest thing from harmless I've ever seen. Gorgeous? Absolutely. Perfect? Hell yes. Harmless? Not a fucking chance.
"I already told you no."
"I realize that, but that was before I figured out what your problem is."
"You mean the emotional constipation?" I ask, my tone dry.
She grimaces as if she might actually regret saying that to me. "No, I think that's a symptom of your problem."
Well, this should be good.
"What's my problem, then?"
"You said you weren't interested in being meat on the market, right?"
"Yes," I say slowly, not sure what kind of conclusion she's jumped to based on that comment. God only knows with her. Her mind is a magical, terrifying place. It really is.
"What happened?" she asks.
I hesitate for a long moment. "What do you think happened?" I finally ask, curious what she's come up.
"I think you were either touched or treated inappropriately at an event by a reader," she says. "From what I've heard, it's been happening more frequently at reader events."
"Is that what you think?"
"Yes. Am I right?"
"Not even close," I say.
"What the fuck? Seriously?" Her brows furrow. "Then what's the issue?"
"The issue is that I said no and you refuse to hear it."
"River!" The way she stomps her foot when she's frustrated does not make me want to fuck her any less, just so we're clear about that. "You have to give me something to work with here. How else am I going to change your mind?"
"Simple." I push away from the door, taking a step into her personal space.
I'm so close, I feel the heat coming from her body.
I feel her sharp intake of breath against my chest. My fingers hook beneath her chin, tipping her head back.
"You go out with me. Then and only then will I agree to speak at your book club. "
Her gaze turns wild again, panicked. It's the same expression from last time, like the thought of a date is the most terrifying thing she can think of. "You are so annoyin—"
I cut her off by pressing my lips across hers. I know damn well that I shouldn't do it, but she's spluttering and red in the face, and she's so fucking pretty. I need a taste, just one.
My tongue flicks against the seam of her lips. I don't think she means to, but her lips part. And I can't resist stealing a deeper taste. She has the sharpest tongue of anyone I've ever met, but goddamn if that mouth isn't the sweetest thing on this planet. I groan, licking into her mouth.
She kisses me back like she's dying for a taste, her hands clenching into my shirt. My dick throbs, precum spilling into my boxers when her tongue touches mine.
Fucking hell. I want to slip that little dress up her legs and slide into her right here and now.
I nip her bottom lip instead, stepping back.
"Get off my porch before I have you arrested, Jasmine," I murmur, retreating into the house. My dick is so hard, it's in danger of breaking in half at this point. "I mean it."
"You just kissed me."
"Yes, and if you don't want me to do it again, you'll leave." I pull the door closed before I do something insane, like drag her inside and never let her leave. What's one more crime in this little spree we've got going between us?
"I'm not leaving until you agree!" she shouts through the closed door, her voice muffled. "I will camp out here until the end of time, River Jamison. I mean it!"
I laugh to myself because I know damn well that she means it. But if she thinks I'm not willing to play dirty, too, she's wrong. I want her enough to shake her world on its foundations to get what I want. And I have a feeling that's precisely what it's going to take to get through to her.
Maybe that's exactly what I need to do—shake her world on its foundation.
I crack the door, just enough to see her standing there with her hands balled into tight fists and her eyes narrowed as if she's contemplating breaking down the door.
"If you haven't agreed to the date or left by the time I'm finished for the day, I'm calling the police, princess.
You can explain your philosophies on stalking to a judge. "
"You wouldn't dare," she practically hisses at me.
"Try me."
"I'm not leaving."
"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you," I say, closing the door in her face again.
"Jerk!" she shouts through the heavy wood.
I just smile to myself, striding back to my office.