Page 60 of Maneater (The Mavens #1)

FORTY

JOSIE

“Do you need a safe word or something?” Rowan asks as I sit at the vanity in his bathroom, getting ready for my “date” with Daniel tonight. The dark purple dress I plan to wear is draped over his bed, and I’m finishing up the final touches on my makeup.

I look over at him blankly. “A safe word?”

“Yeah, you know, if something goes terribly wrong and you need me to storm in and save you?” I try to school my features for a moment, but fail when I let out a loud laugh. He glares at me as I recover before reaching for a blush brush and adding a bit more to my cheeks.

“Oh, you sweet, sweet boy, thinking I need saving.”

“I’m just saying whoever the person is, is clearly not opposed to hurting someone.”

I turn to him and give him a sympathetic smile, knowing this is all new to him .

“Rowan, I’ve been doing this a long time. I will be fine.”

He sighs before nodding. “So remind me of the plan?”

“I will go on my date, and I’ll be wearing an earpiece to record the conversation if needed. Rory will be able to communicate with me to let me know if I need to buy more time or if she’s done. It should take anywhere from one hour to ninety minutes.”

“It’s not just drop and go?” I shake my head.

“No, it’s tracking incoming and outgoing messages for all devices within that vicinity. With it, she should be able to hack them off-site so we can double-check for any burners, etc.”

“That’s possible?” he asks, his face a mask of shock and concern that makes me laugh just a bit. I nod.

“You’d be absolutely horrified at all Rory can do with this equipment,” I say with a shrug.

“I tend to purposely forget her skills because if I don’t, I might go into a spiral.

” He looks like he’s starting to do just that, something that does make me giggle, but I pat his shoulder.

“Nothing to worry about, unless you fuck me over. Then she might try a little bit of retribution.”

He lets out a breath. “Noted. So she needs two hours, and you’re going to buy her that time?”

“That’s my plan. Flirt, taunt, show some cleavage, whatever it takes to keep him at that table until I get the all-clear from Rory.” His face changes, almost infinitesimally, and my gut drops, knowing that it’s time to address this. “I guess we should have the talk,” I say.

His brows furrow before he stands up straighter, his hands sliding into his pockets. “The talk?”

My stomach churns, but I turn to him in the vanity seat and lock my gaze on him.

“My job is flirting. It’s talking to all kinds of people, often men, and making them think they have my full attention, respect, and interest in order to convince them to spill their secrets.

I’m good at my job. I love my job. I will not be stopping my job any time soon.

” I close my eyes and take in a deep breath before opening them again, softening my expression.

“I like you, Rowan, but I love my job. If you make me pick, I will choose my job over you.” Despite my bravado, I’m nervous.

I know this is a lot to ask of someone, especially in a new relationship, but I want to have the best of both worlds. Desperately.

Silence fills the space for long, long moments, and that nervousness churns hard, turning to panic before, finally, he moves. He leans forward, reaching for me on the chair and pulling me to my feet, then into his chest, before finally speaking.

“I know what I signed up for,” he says against my lips.

“What?” I ask, my heart stuttering.

“I know what I signed up for when I agreed to start this with you, Josie. You told me your job.”

“You fucked it out of me,” I grumble, and he smiles, probably sensing my body responding to the memory. Not the time, body.

“Hmm, that was a good time, wasn’t it?” I glare at him, but honestly, I don’t think it’s very convincing.

He keeps going. “But what I’m saying is I did not walk into this relationship blind.

I know who you are, what your job is, and what that looks like.

If you’re worried I’ll have some kind of issue with it, you can stop worrying.

I know in my gut this will work because I understand your job.

I think you also get that mine can be long hours and random calls I can’t ignore when we’re eating dinner or when I’m trying to make you come for the tenth time.

” I smile at that, but he keeps talking.

“I want this to work, and I think you do, too. So I think we’re both willing to accept all of that if that means we get each other. ”

He steps closer to me, a hand resting on my lower back.

“I’m going to have to go on dates with other men,” I whisper, remembering the handful of times I tried to date in college while running my side business, before I decided it wasn’t worth the strife. The men I dated could never get past my job, so I stopped trying.

“Am I happy that you’re going to flirt with another man, do what you can to get his dick hard, and get him nice and pliant so that you can wring him for all of his secrets?

Not particularly. But is that your problem?

No. So long as, at the end of the day, it’s me you fall asleep next to, I’m good.

I’m confident enough in myself and in us. ”

He pauses, staring at me, before continuing.

“The truth is, you can flirt and flaunt, and you can make every man in the room wonder what it would be like to have you as their own, but I’m the only one who gets to know that.

I’m the only one who knows what you’re like when that mask is pulled off, who knows what you sound like when I fill you. ”

A shallow breath leaves my lips, and a small smile paints his.

“I’m the only one who knows the places to kiss to make you moan.

That alone is enough for me. You think I’m not okay with that?

Having all of you when everyone else only gets hints and scraps, when they get teased but never given more?

Hell no. It’s a gift you’re choosing to give me, Josie, and I’m honored to have it. ”

I stare at him for long, long moments, trying to ascertain his truth, but see nothing but. My face breaks into a wide smile, and I put a hand to each side of his jaw and pull him in for a deep, grateful kiss.

“God, you’re perfect, aren’t you?” I whisper, and he smiles.

“Perfect for you, I hope.”

I press my lips to his once more in answer before his face goes a bit clouded. He adds, “I would prefer if you didn’t kiss anyone, but I also understand that’s not something I can expect, nor is it my place to ask.”

I lean back a bit to take him in before my head tips to the side. Then I smile and shake my head.

“You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“Rowan, honey. I’ve never kissed a target before.”

“What?”

“I’ve never kissed a target or a suspect.

Never. You were the one exception. It was why this was so complicated for me.

” My thumb grazes along the hard lines of his cheekbone, stubble scraping along my skin as I smile softly.

“I’d already kissed you and knew how much I liked it.

I thought if I did it again, it would muddy my mind even more than you already had. ”

A beat passes before a grin of his own breaks out along his lips. “Oh, you had it bad from the beginning,” he mumbles against my lips.

“Real bad,” I admit in a whisper. Then he kisses me long and deep, showing and sharing each crumb of the joy and gratitude we both feel, before finally pulling back.

“Okay, it’s time for you to finish getting all dolled up for your date.”

Without meaning to, I grimace at the reminder but sit down all the same.

“Why do you look like that?” he asks with a laugh.

“Like what?” I ask, reaching for the lipstick to apply it.

“Like you’re annoyed as fuck.” I meet his eyes behind me in the mirror as I glide the lipstick over my lips, painting them a pretty pink.

He’s once again watching me while resting on the bathroom wall, and I like this: him keeping me company while I get ready, talking about our jobs and expectations openly and honestly like adults. Just being with him.

“Because I realized that I’m going on a date with someone else before I go on a real date with you,” I admit. His face goes soft at that, like he really likes my words, and even though I’m annoyed, it brings me joy, knowing I brought him joy. “It’s annoying.”

“I wouldn’t call it a date,” he says, and I let out a small laugh at the irritation now on his face.

“I bet he would. And, again, it’s annoying that he gets to have a dinner date with me before you do.” The irritation melts away, and he gives me a soft smile.

“Is my little troublemaker sad we’re not going on a date?” He stands behind me, and I watch in the mirror as his hand moves to my cheek, thumb moving over my cheekbone.

“Yes,” I pout like a petulant child instead of a full-grown woman.

He dips down and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Well, as soon as we can, I promise to take you out. Show you off. The whole nine.”

“The whole nine, huh?” I ask with an eyebrow raised and a smile.

“Oh yeah. Wine and dine, baby.”

I can’t help but laugh as I look at him in the mirror. “And what all does wine and dine include, Mr. Fisher?”

“Well, first, we have wine. And then I dine.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

I can’t help it: I let out a loud laugh at his terrible innuendo. “Dine, huh?” I ask.

He nods, dipping his head down and pressing his lips to the spot right below my ear on my neck that makes me shiver, his tongue dipping out to taste me there. My pulse pounds in response.

Because I’m a brave girl, though, I swat him away.

It would only take another press like that to completely mangle my mind, to have me forget that I have a job to do and thirty minutes to finish getting ready.

“We don’t have time for that right now, unfortunately,” I say with a sigh filled with genuine regret. Then I look over my shoulder. “But hold that thought.” A deep laugh fills the room as I take out the clips holding my hair back and pick up my curling iron to touch up a few things.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” he says. “You look gorgeous with your natural hair.”

I smile as I release the perfect curl. “I know.”

He lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to go all out. You’d win him over regardless.”

With that, I set my iron down. “I guess we should have this talk, too,” I say with a sigh.

“Oh?” he asks, clearly entertained.

“I don’t do this,” I say, moving my hand down my body and over my hair, “for other people. Yes, there are certain styles that consistently perform better for my job. However, I spend an hour styling my hair because I want to and because I like the way it looks. If you want this to be a thing, you’ve gotta accept that sometimes, I’m going to take two hours to do my hair just to go to the grocery store.

Sometimes, I’ll throw my hair in a ponytail and not wash it for a week, but that’s because I want to.

I like doing my makeup, so if you tell me I’m prettier without it, I’m actually going to get pissed, no matter how well-intentioned you are.

And sometimes, I’ll wear a tiny dress or a low-cut top: again, for my job—it can be a requirement because men are often distracted—but I still do it for myself.

I’ve had men in the past not like that, not be into it, and I’ve ended things quick because of it.

You will not be the exception to that rule. ”

Silence hangs in the air between us, and even though I stare at him with a bit of anticipation, I know this is a hill I’m willing to lay it all out on. I am me, and no one and nothing will change that.

But he doesn’t leave me hanging for long; instead, he stands and takes two steps toward me before his hands move under my arms, tugging me in close. My hands go to his chest to catch myself before sliding up and around his neck.

“Let me get one thing exceedingly clear: you look gorgeous no matter what. A bikini or sweats or nothing, though I can’t lie, when it’s just the two of us, I highly prefer nothing.

” I can’t help but smile, and any unease I felt washes away.

“I don’t care what your hair looks like, as long as you like it.

You could wear a three-inch-thick layer of makeup or none at all, and the mere thought of you would get my dick hard.

” A shiver runs through me, and he smiles when he feels it.

“You do whatever you have to do to make yourself feel pretty, but you’d better be doing it for you, not me.

Surely not for any of those assholes. I don’t care what you’re wearing or how your hair looks, so long as you’re happy and you’re mine. Got it?”

He looks so firm in his words, so insistent that I not only hear them but also understand, that I have no other choice but to smile.

“I think so,” I whisper. Then he smiles wide and dips his head, his mouth moving over mine, and I know I could so fall for Rowan Fisher.

And the craziest part is that it doesn’t scare me at all.