I’m pretty proud of that.
In the conference room, I move around the table. The men continue their meeting as I put out the glasses. Tip ice into each one. A third round with the water.
I feel Will watching every time I bend down to pour.
He gives it a minute after I’m finished. The conversation volleys.Contract termsandyes, that’s easy enough to changeandwhat would you think about…fly across the table.
There’s a lull. A slight pause. A little dip.
Will looks at his watch. “We’ll break for about twenty minutes. I need to finalize my schedule for the afternoon.”
“Perfect.” One of the men laughs. “I missed breakfast this morning.”
“My receptionist put out a tray of fruit and pastries in the lounge.”
They’re very excited about the pastries.
Will sees them out, then closes the door behind him. When he turns around again, the professional expression has disappeared from his face.
I feel a bolt of fear, then a wash of heat. I can’t name his expression. Anger, I think. More. At me? At the meeting?
Will stalks around the table, a step away from crowding me. “Lay down.”
I steel myself. “I was going to talk to you. I know something was up on Saturday, and I wanted to—”
“You’re not finished paying me back. Lay. Down.”
The weekend was a dream, then. It was nothing.
My body betrays me. It finds his heated, angry demands pretty hot.
A deep flush heats my cheeks. “On the table or on the floor?”
“The table.” Will points. I see exactly where I’m supposed to lay.
Conference tables aren’t made to spread out on. It’s an awkward climb. I let my feet dangle over the edge, toward Will, and ease myself back.
Will narrows his eyes. “Pull up your skirt.”
This isn’t right. This isn’t the way he was. “Are you okay?”
“I’m perfectly well, Ms. Anderson,” he snaps. “Your skirt.”
I yank at it, feeling slightly desperate. When my panties are exposed Will steps in. He hooks his fingertips in the waistband and pulls them down.
All the way down.
One of my heels catches on them as he tugs them off and drops them to the conference room carpet.
“Show me what I bought, Bristol.”
I know he means that I should spread my legs. What’s the most wrong about the situation is how much I want to. I don’t know what happened to Will between the time I left his apartment and this morning.
I don’t know if it matters.
“Did something happen to you?”
He laughs, short and cruel. “This isn’t about me, sweetheart. Did you get confused over the weekend and convince yourself that I’m your boyfriend?”