"What did you want to talk with me about… Mr. Sax?"
Something inside of me had snapped, and I wanted to see what he did when I used his name. Shit, I was going mental. His smirk lifted a little more, and his nostrils flared, making me feel he'd liked the sound of his name a lot.
"Mr. Masters wanted me to ensure that Immy's files were confidential and what she talks about needs to stay out of the notes. It's important that the information stays contained. Mr. Masters is a powerful man, shall we say, and some of his competitors might try to use info on Immy to get the upper hand. We can't have that liability. Do we have an understanding?"
I swallowed, unsure what was happening or what kind of business would try to use a teenage girl's therapy notes. Stuttering out a breath, I found my voice to respond.
"Confidentiality and HIPAA for my clients are of the greatest concerns for me. You don't have to worry about that, and I'm actually offended you would assume I could be bought or bent to compromise my morals," I huffed out at the end. Crossing my arms, I glared at him with a stern look, no longer swayed by his hypnotizing eyes. The more I digested his words, the angrier I felt at being asked this again.
Clearing my throat, I raised my chin in defiance and faced off with the neanderthal, "You don't know me, Mr. Sax. So, I'll excuse your and Mr. Masters' behavior, this time. But for the future, Sax," I seethed, so angry I dropped the formality, "my clients' trust and safety are of the utmost importance to me. Nothing means more to me than protecting them. Nothing. That you can count on."
Unsurprisingly, I was breathing fast, my heart racing, and my face hot from the emotions I was feeling. I was livid. The realization that I hadn't felt mad in forever hit me like a ton of bricks, and the significance of that immediately sent a bucket of cold water over my head. My hands had moved to my hips in a power pose as I squared off with the dangerously gorgeous brute. Fucking hell, he was all the bad boy fantasies wrapped up in one expensive suit.
"Oh, spitfire," he purred. "I look forward to getting to know you then. I will convey your message to Mr. Masters."
He had inched forward with some sort of swagger I hadn't expected but stopped before he was too close, veering toward the door. Just as he passed me, he leaned down and whispered in a husky voice, "I bet your pussy is the same lovely red as your face right now. Next time you call me, Mr. Sax, I'll show you just how that makes me feel, spitfire. I'll be feasting on your hot cunt while your legs are wrapped around my face. That's something you can count on from me."
My breath caught at his words, my heart returned to a marathon speed, and a hidden part of me wanted to test him on that promise. The arousal was intense, and I hated to admit how slick between my legs I was. Fuck, I needed to get it together.
Rushing to the bathroom, I tossed some water on my heated face trying to cool myself. That wasn't how I'd expected the meeting to go at all, and as my anxiety skyrocketed, I was glad it was over.
So, why did I secretly crave for it to happen again? Just to see if he would feast on me and what that would feel like? Brian had never made me feel this provocative before, and I couldn't remember a time he had looked at me with such unabashed lust.
This was bad, oh so bad, and it was going to blow up in my face. I could already see it. But maybe… just maybe, I was due for a little bad. What the fuck had being good ever gotten me anyway?