Page 127 of One Bad Idea

Was it because I worked for him?

Or was I simply not his type?

The thought of asking for clarification was too horrifying to consider, so instead, I yanked open my bottom desk drawer and grabbed my purse.No need to stick around, right?

I was just reaching for my cell phone when he said, "I know what you're thinking."

I stopped in mid-motion. "No, you don't." This was definitely true, becauseIdidn't even know what I was thinking. I just knew that it wasn't good.

He said, "You think I'm turning you down."

What didthatmean? Hewasn't?

Well so what?He had his chance. And besides, quick and easy sex had never been my style anyway.

By now, the cookie had totally lost its appeal.Really, it had.

I tossed him a cold smile, along with the same two words he'd just used on me. "Forget it."

And with this, I grabbed my phone and hurled it into my purse. And then, I strode out of my office, brushing past him and heading toward the suite's main door.

With whatever dignity I had left, I'd simply march out with my head held high. Or at least, that was my plan – a plan that sounded just fine until he said in a low voice, "You're smart for leaving."

My steps faltered, but I resisted the urge to turn around. Without looking back, I said, "It doesn't matter. It was stupid, anyway."

His voice cut through the distance. "Yeah. It was."

Now, I couldn’t help but stop.What a jerk.

With slow deliberation, I turned back to face him. He hadn't moved, and the gulf between us seemed impossibly large. For some stupid reason, my gaze drifted to his pelvis, and I felt myself swallow.

In his jeans, there was a distinct bulge that hadn't been there just five minutes ago.

Speaking of impossibly large.

Even if his words said one thing, his body was clearly saying another. I knew the feeling. Even now, my tongue was once again brushing against my upper lip. I sucked it back in and glowered at him for good measure.

He'd just called me stupid. Or at least, he'd called my suggestion stupid.

Was it stupid?

Yes. Definitely.

But did he have to say so?

No. He didn't.

I made a scoffing sound. "Thanks for rubbing my face in it."

Oh, God, eventhatsounded stupid, or at the very least, vaguely obscene.

"In what?" he asked.

My gaze drifted downward.Well, not your massive cock, that's for sure.

I almost cringed.What the hell was wrong with me?

Once again, I yanked my gaze upward and then gave him a look he totally deserved – one of scorn and impatience. Or at least, that had been my original intention.