“Because you don’t want mercy, do you?”
The fact that Vihaan could sense this about her was frightening. Vera had always been strong-willed. Perhaps she'd subconsciously picked pliable men to sleep with, making it easier for her to walk away after that momentary indulgence.
Vihaan though? He refused to be cowed by her. He was like a tornado—wild and destructive. She had no clue how to contain him and he was the only one with whom she lost control. Her mind flashed back to how thoroughly he’d fucked her against the storage shelves, and how hard she’d orgasmed because of it. The fact that they were in the office, that the door was open, and anyone could have heard them, that she was supposed to hate him—none of it had mattered. Her body and mind had submitted to his demands and in that submission had been a pleasure she hadn’t experienced before.
Every single day of her life was filled with things to worry about. She controlled the smallest details: her expenses, her flings, her schedule. It was all by the book. Vihaan? He was out of syllabus, and he’d follow no rule. The idea was exhilarating, and to her consternation, more appealing than she wanted to admit.
Though she tried to hide her conflict, he read her desire easily.
“You just imagined us, didn’t you?”
She huffed, still putting up a valiant fight against the surge of lust he’d summoned in her.
“So what?”
“Maybe scratching this itch will finally douse this tension. If we need to work together, we need to find a way to do it without killing each other. The program launch and its success is important to me, and evidently to you as well.”
She blinked, his words slowly cutting through the fog of hormones.
“You want us to fuck each other out of our systems until we stop hating each other? That’s—” she floundered, looking for an appropriate word, “. . .stupid.”
One thick brow arched up. “Got a better idea?”
She wanted to decline. Immediately. But a part of her conceded despite her initial inclination to smack Vihaan upside the head for suggesting such a silly thing, it was worth a try. It would give her the closure she’d never been able to get before.
This time, she knew exactly what their interaction would mean—a one-time fuckmania. She would have no other expectations, and she would begin and end it on her terms. She would leave and write him off, the way he did her. Then, maybe then, she could finally move on from that moment when his words had branded her heart with shame.
The idea took root in a way that was impossible to shake off. She bit her lower lip, glancing up to find him watching her with an indeterminable look.
“Make no mistake,” she warned him. “I’ll probably still hate you.”
Her announcement didn’t phase him.
“Right back at you, Princess. We relieve the tension in the bedroom, and just maybe, it’ll help us keep a civil head in the boardroom.”
“Even if I learn to tolerate you at work, this will never be more than casual sex. It’s for one night only. Understood?”
“Loud and clear.”
“Hotel?” she asked, coming straight to the point.
He shook his head slowly, his eyes gleaming in silent victory.
“My apartment. Now.”
16
First Steps
Vera
Confidence was a ficklefriend in the worst of times. Today, she was friendless.
It wasn’t like she was a virgin, but standing in the middle of Vihaan’s bedroom, waiting to get down and dirty with him, Vera was uncharacteristically nervous. The longer she waited, the more unhinged she felt.
Maybe it was a good thing they’d been mostly silent on the drive over. She inhaled deeply and concentrated on releasing her breath in a slow and steady stream. She didn’t think she had the capacity to have a normal conversation at this point anyway. Her nerves kept spiking up and her gut churned painfully at the realisation that she’d willingly let him see her naked again.
She glanced around the room, noting the muted elegance in the surrounding decor: creamy walls, high ceilings with crown mouldings, a contemporary black and gold fixture breaking the open space above. Moss green sheets lay covering a bed thatlooked like it could fit an entire family—the only bit of colour in an otherwise simple room—highlighted by an expensive looking creamy-white knit blanket draped casually over one edge. She noted no family pictures anywhere, just a few pieces of furniture that were also of excellent quality.