Page 14 of Devilish Bully (Steamy Latte Reads Collection #3)

THE ACCOUNTANT

KENDALL

I might as well be invisible on this plane.

I’m stuck in the front row across from a board member—Bob, I think—and all he’s done is flip through his yacht magazine and occasionally beg me to look at it.

At the back of the plane, Lucian and Penelope are huddled with the other board members, talking strategy like they’re on stage at some conference, while Brian scribbles notes as if the world depends on it.

Why am I even here?

I slide on a pair of reading glasses and bury myself in the damn quarterly report that refuses to make sense until the plane descends into Miami.

The moment the pilot opens the door, I sling my bag over my shoulder and hurry down the stairs.

Ahead, the private airport screams Pearson Industries with a giant “Welcome to Florida” banner. The second I step inside, blue and white balloons tumble from the ceiling, confetti pops, and strangers beam at me like I’m the guest of honor.

“Well, hello there!”

“Great to meet a member of the team!”

“We’re so excited about your upcoming IPO!”

Greetings come at me from every direction, and I fake a smile, nodding like this is normal.

It’s not until I catch a server off to the side that I finally get answers.

“Hey,” I whisper. “Why is this happening here instead of in, I don’t know, a ballroom?”

“Good question.” She lowers her voice. “We were supposed to set up in the Everglades—two hours out—but Mr. Pearson called this morning and said he needed to be back home by nine. So we packed up and moved it here. Must be nice being a billionaire, huh?”

She slips away before I can respond, leaving me stunned.

He didn’t. He couldn’t have moved the entire thing just for me…

I grab a champagne flute from a tray, trying to process, but then Lucian and the rest of the board sweep in, shaking hands and taking pictures with potential shareholders like they’re celebrities.

“Please don’t take offense to this, and I swear it’s not a pickup line, but you look tense.”

A man appears in front of me, extending his hand. “Dr. Walters. Hot Sand Physical Therapy.”

“I am tense.” I shake his hand. “Kendall Clarke, Pearson Industries.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” He smiles. “Not every day you get to be part of something this big, huh?”

“Tell me about it…” I mutter, feeling an ache in my neck—though maybe it’s less tension and more the sight of Lucian pretending he’s a nice guy for more than five minutes.

“My son dragged me down here to meet the board. He swears this stock is the one to buy the moment it goes live.”

“It’ll probably make a lot of money,” I admit.

“Here.” He slips me a business card. “I own a sister clinic in New Jersey—an hour out from Manhattan. I’ll work you out for free.”

“Really?”

“Well, kind of free.” His grin widens. “You’ll have to give me some insight into what I’m buying into.”

“I’ll explain everything I know.” I smile, pocketing the card. “What days are you open? Would it be okay if I?—”

“Excuse me.”

Lucian steps between us, his hand closing around mine before I can finish. “Can I speak to you in private, Miss Clarke?”

“I’m in the middle of a conversation with a potential shareholder,” I point out. “Give me five minutes.”

“Okay.” His grip tightens, unyielding, and he drags me away from the crowd into a side office cluttered with pilot gear.

The moment the door clicks shut, I yank my hand back.

“What the hell is your problem, and why do you keep saying ‘okay’ to me?”

“Because I thought we were finally on good terms. Clearly, you’ve been lying.”

“All the money you’ve got, and you haven’t booked an appointment for those mood swings?” I cross my arms. “Maybe try that.”

“I’m glad you’re acknowledging that I have feelings.”

“I said mood swings. ‘Feelings’ are what you trample whenever someone talks to you like a human being.”

His mouth curves into a smirk. “Funny. Right now I’m feeling something very specific after hearing how you really feel about me.”

What the hell is he talking about? “The only things I feel for you are annoyance and hatred.”

“You don’t mean that, Kendall.” The way he says my name sends an unwanted shiver straight through me. “Take it back.”

“I despise you,” I snap. “The minute we’re home, I’m booking the longest spa day they offer to undo all the damage you’ve caused.”

“This isn’t how I planned this conversation to go…”

“I hate you.” I can’t stop the words. “You stare at me like you own me, you control every second of my time, and you actually believe it’s yours to take.”

“I’m paying you a lot for it.”

“Can I get back to my conversation with the doctor now?” I shove at his chest, but he catches my wrists. “At least he noticed how tense I am from a glance. Imagine that.”

“He was just trying to fuck you.” His jaw ticks. “Read the room.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what I need.” I lift my chin. “Since we’re stuck here for hours, maybe I’ll let him.”

The words barely leave my mouth before his lips crash into mine.

The kiss is hard, claiming, his tongue rough and filthy as it forces mine to submit. I gasp, and he swallows the sound, devouring me like he’s been waiting for this.

I push at his chest for a breath, but my body betrays me—my fists curl into his shirt, dragging him closer. Heat rushes through me, dizzying, and when he lifts me onto the desk in one brutal motion, I don’t fight it. Papers scatter everywhere as my legs part on instinct, making room for him.

The scrape of his mouth down my throat has me tilting my head back, a moan slipping free before I can stop it. He tastes every inch of my collarbone before dropping to his knees, shoving my skirt up over my hips.

“Lucian—” His name falls from my lips, broken, but it’s too late.

He drags my panties aside and his mouth is on me—hot, relentless, sinful. My back bows off the desk as his tongue licks and sucks me raw, his hands locking on my thighs to hold me open.

“Oh my god—” The words rip from me as my hips jerk against him, my body desperate and shameless. Every filthy sound of his tongue working me only makes me wetter, needier, until I can’t think, can’t breathe.

He doesn’t stop. He pins me down when I try to twist away, forcing me to take every stroke, every ruthless flick of his tongue. My moans turn to cries, his name falling from my mouth louder, louder, until I shatter against him, trembling and wrecked.

The orgasm tears through me, brutal and consuming, and still he doesn’t let up, sucking and tasting until I’m whimpering, begging, too sensitive to handle more.

When he finally rises, his mouth glistens, his eyes dark with hunger. I can barely catch my breath, my thighs shaking, my body buzzing like it’s been rewired.

He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. “Do you feel better now?”

I nod, too undone to speak.

“I moved this party here because you needed to get home early,” he murmurs. “The least you could do is not flirt with another man in front of me. Clear?”

I nod again, still trembling.

“Stay in here awhile.” His gaze pins me. “I’ll come back for you.”