Page 10 of Willing Prey

“Fantastic—only reason things lasted as long with her as they did. She’s a real giver.”

I whirl to face them. Murder. I’m going to commit murder. Here in the kitchen, with Tanner watching. It’s only a matter of choosing my method. Choking him out? Smashing his head into the island? Bludgeoning him with my mug?

“How so?” Tanner’s gaze flicks to me, one eyelid dropping in a wink. I bite back a groan.

“Phenomenal head, abso—”

“All right, this is getting inappropriate for the workplace,” I snap, interrupting Keith.

Fuck.

Keith’s head whips around so fast, I’m surprised—and disappointed—he doesn’t break his neck.

He’s looking at me like he can’t figure out if I’m joking or not.

Tanner is barely shy of gleeful—fucking bastard.

If I don’t get out of here, I’ll give myself away.

I can’t keep my face in check, and now I’m acting like an amateur, some hothead who can’t control his temper.

The person who says the least has the most power, and I’m about to say way too much .

Holding Tanner in a glare, I screw the lid onto my mug. “I need to talk to you about payroll.”

I’m not involved with payroll at all. Tanner takes the hint, though, and follows me from the kitchen. He nods goodbye to Keith. I don’t.

Closing the door of my office behind us, I try to figure out how I’m going to approach this conversation. Specifically, how much I’m willing to share with Tanner. He settles into one of the armchairs near my desk, surveying the office. I know what he’s going to say before he does.

“You really need some art in here.” He tilts his head toward the blank, pale gray wall to his right. “It’s drab.”

Black walnut bookcases line one wall, and my desk is the same dark wood. Between the black leather chairs for visitors, one of which Tanner is currently occupying, and my high-back desk chair—also black leather—he isn’t wrong.

“Nail one of your socks to the wall,” I mutter, dropping into my chair.

Tanner snorts, hiking up a leg high enough that I can see it over the desk. His pant leg rides up, revealing a green-and-blue dress sock covered in cartoon dogs.

“Are those pugs?” I ask, curious despite myself.

He’s affronted. “Yorkies.”

I’m tempted to argue the point—they’re definitely pugs—but I let it go. His wife, Marianna, runs a dog rescue and loves dogs even more than she loves buying Tanner bizarre socks; she’ll sort out any identification issues.

Dropping his leg with a theatric groan, he leans back in his chair. Tenting his fingers, he watches me with an intensity that promises trouble.

“So, let’s talk ‘payroll.’?” Though the lanky blond man looks nothing like my younger brother, Caine, Tanner’s current commitment to winding me up is identical.

“Don’t encourage Keith to bother Claire.” Running a hand through my hair, I try to hide my agitation.

Tanner gives me a pointed look. “Why?”

I know Because it’s the right thing to do won’t be enough for Tanner. Not when I’ve shown this much emotional investment.

“Because I’m seeing her,” I bite out.

It’s technically not a lie. I saw her spread on the forest floor beneath me. I saw her body writhe and squirm when she came. I saw my cum dripping out of her slick, hot cunt. Every time my mind gets off its leash, I see her in my head. It’s why I can’t get a damn thing done today.

I can’t stop seeing her .

His eyes narrow. I continue before he can say something obscene, “She’s done with him. Don’t encourage him.”

At least I think she is?

Tanner’s amusement slips away. “You realize this is sloppy, don’t you?

Keith was pivotal in securing the Hellix–Net Nest merger.

He’s the only reason they’re with us.” He looks past me and out the picture window behind my desk.

“Fucking racquetball leagues. I’m going to start playing again and see who I bump into. ”

He’s right. I’m being sloppy. I’m aware of that, but it doesn’t change anything. “Keith never needs to know.”

That earns me an eye roll. “This is going to be the most expensive fuck of your life.”

It already is.

Also worth every penny.

He keeps going. “Is that ass worth three million? Because that’s what it’ll cost us if you piss him off.”

“Don’t be crass.” I sigh, spinning my chair back and forth the slightest bit. “Russ can pull it off; it’s creepy when you do it.”

Tanner ignores my mention of Russ, who makes up the Graves portion of Graves, Underwood he crashed in his office two nights last week. ”

I force a smile, as if I think Tanner’s being ridiculous. “That doesn’t mean anything. I sleep here all the time.”

“Yes, you do. Keith doesn’t.” Tanner’s face is kind. “He wouldn’t be the first guy to think the grass is greener only to realize he should have stayed in his own damn yard. I don’t want you to get blindsided.”

“I’m not worried about it.” The lie is bitter, dragging across my teeth. “Like I said, it’s casual.”

He nods. “All right, just be smart. I don’t want the firm paying millions for you to get some pussy.” His face breaks into a grin that means something even more ridiculous is about to come out of his mouth. “I’m happy you’re getting laid, though—maybe it’ll make you nicer.”

I roll my eyes. “Get out of my office. I need to prep for a meeting.”

Standing, he stretches lazily. “I still don’t believe it’s casual. But I take it back: if fucking Keith’s wife makes you less of a prick, maybe a few million is a reasonable investment.” With an irritating smirk, he’s gone before I can correct him.

Ex-wife.

Tapping on my keyboard with a bit more force than necessary as I respond to an email, I remind myself he’s right. What I have with Claire isn’t casual. It’s business.

Sweaty, dirty, primal business.

I press send and close my laptop. I’m taking an early day.