I don’t move out of the way when I pull open the door, blocking Brooks’s entrance into my house.
He’s got a scowl on his face as he watches me, and somehow, even the disgruntled look on his face makes my blood sing.
Stop staring at his mouth.
I lift my eyes to his as I hit play on the video and turn it around so he can see the exact moment Princess takes a mouthful of his ass cheek.
I’ll give him credit for not flinching while reliving that moment, but he doesn’t open his mouth to mutter excuses either.
I don’t know what I expected from the man when I planned on confronting him, but it wasn’t stony silence.
He doesn’t make excuses or apologize. The man looks like he believes he has a right to invade my privacy.
Princess growls beside me, the sound more playful than a threat, but even after getting bitten by the dog, he doesn’t flinch or try to back away.
Instead, he pulls some sort of dog toy from his pocket, tossing it behind me.
I look down, noticing the way Princess wavers, her little head moving from the man on the porch to the toy on the floor.
She growls one last time, the temptation of a new toy just a little too much to keep her focus on protecting me.
Brooks’s lip twitches in celebration when her paws click across the room. She scoops up the toy and disappears into the kitchen.
“Care to explain yourself?”
“Do I need to?” he asks, sidestepping me to enter the house without permission.
I grin at the hitch in his step, no doubt from Princess’s attention yesterday.
Cocky and pushy?
Geez, why do I like it so much?
Knowing I can’t manhandle him to leave my house, I’m forced to follow him into the living room, noticing that he looks from the window he was spying through yesterday to the side table beside the couch.
“I’ve hired Blackbridge because I was told that the organization had the utmost integrity. Deacon Black assured me that I would always be comfortable through the entire process. I can tell you, Brooks Morgan, the last thing I felt was comfort when I discovered you were creeping around my yard to practice your voyeur skills.”
“Do you think I was comfortable when I walked into your house for the first time yesterday, only to discover you jacking off?”
He raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me, his mouth a thin line of irritation.
He has no right to be annoyed. He invaded my privacy, not the other way around.
“Are you saying a man can’t do private things in the privacy of his own home?”
“Not when you knew I was here. You did it purposely to get a rise out of me or some other kind of reaction.”
“Other reaction? I did it purely for shock value.”
“Good, because this is—was—a working relationship and expectation of anything else from me would be foolish.”
“I don’t expect shit from—what do you mean was?” I ask, my brain finally making full sense of what he just said.
“You read the contract, did you not?”
I nod, but honestly, it was eighteen pages long and although I’ve been bored out of my mind, I’m not that bored.
“Then you’re more than aware of Section 19b?”
I don’t think contract talk should be so damn hot, but maybe it’s the strength in his stance that’s turning me on, or possibly the fact that the man is stunningly gorgeous. I want to do nothing less than get on my knees to help with an attitude adjustment. I’d even let him pull my hair and control my head as he fucked my mouth.
Jesus, now I’m chubbing up and the sweats I’m wearing leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.
I’m just lonely… and horny, apparently.
I tell myself I’d have the same fucking reaction if he were a pizza delivery guy.
It does nothing to settle my dick.
“Does Section 19b give you permission to look through my windows?” I challenge, somehow enjoying this little verbal sparring session.
“It outlines what Blackbridge Security is willing to work with.”
“I take it BBS has a problem with dicks then?”
“BBS has a problem with drugs, Archer.”
I snap my head back. “What?”
“We don’t have a problem with out-of-control rock stars or even grown-ass adults acting like children. We can work around all of that. When you signed the contract with BBS, you assured the organization that you were not addicted to drugs. We have a multitude of agencies that we can refer you to.” Brooks reaches into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “When you’re clean, it’s possible BBS will reconsider taking you on as a client.”
The tone of his voice makes it sound like the offer to work with me at a later date is just his way of placating me.
“Drugs? Addiction?”
He nods, his eyes a little sad, and the pity in them makes me want to wring his damn neck.