A Deal with the Bossy Devil by Kyra Parsi

20

“Just because weargue doesn’t mean we have chemistry,” I told Adrien.

It was really important to me that he understood that. I didn’t know why it was so important, but it was.

“Were we arguing just now or was it more of a playful banter?”

“We were arguing.”

“I don’t think so.”

“We’re arguing right now,” I pointed out.

He clicked his tongue. “Slight disagreement. Still banter.”

He was unbearable. “We don’t like each other enough to engage in playful banter, Adrien.”

“You don’t have to like me for us to have chemistry, Ria.”

“I disrespectfully disagree.”

Adrien’s eyes narrowed with a bizarre mixture of annoyance and amusement. “Prove it, then.”

I twisted on the couch to fully face him. “What do I get if I do?”

“The satisfaction of being the very first person to ever prove me wrong.”

I rolled my eyes. “How do you not annoy yourself when you talk?”

He huffed a light chuckle. “It’s called having a sense of humor, Sanchez.”

That. That right there. “I know what I want if I win.”

“You want me to stop saying your name so frequently.”

Damn it.

That was exactly what I was going to say, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right. So, I racked my brain, trying to—

And then it hit me. It was so painfully obvious. I just hadn’t thought of it right away because of the bubbly fog of champagne my brain was currently drenched in.

“No. What I really want is for you to lighten Alba’s workload when you rehire her. I want her to get every weekend and statutory holiday off, to be able to actually use her vacation days, and I want you to put a reasonable cap on the amount of hours she has to work every week. Hire a second assistant if you need to.”

A new emotion flicked over his eyes in response to my request, but it was gone before I could place it.

“Sure,” he eventually said, recovering. “But if I win, you have to admit that you’re attracted to me.”

“I’m not attracted to you.”

And then he frikkin’ booped my nose. “Such a liar.”

I swatted his hand away. “Terms, conditions, rules. Go.”

“And bossy.”

“I don’t think you of all people have any right to call anyone bossy.”

His little smirk widened into a dimpled grin. “Touché.”

It did not make me flustered. This was fine. I was fine. Everything was under control.

“I’m adding one more thing then: if I win, you have to stop insisting that I’m attracted to you.”

“You get two things and I only get one? That doesn’t seem fair.”

I shrugged. “What else do you want?”

Adrien rolled his lips as he studied me. “I want you to tell me why you didn’t go to college. I want the truth, the full story.”

He really didn’t want to let that one go, did he? “What makes you think there’s a story there?”

“Like I said, it doesn’t add up. I’ve seen your academic record.”

“You’ve also seen my criminal record.”

“It doesn’t add up, Sanchez. You had an entirely spotless record for eighteen years, a near-perfect GPA, you were chosen as the class valedictorian, and less than a month before graduation you get charged with mischief of all things? For vandalism?”

“High school students do dumb shit all the time,” I said, ignoring the uncomfortable tugging in my chest. “I did a dumb thing, and then I paid the price for it.”

Adrien shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Even if you did do a dumb thing… I understand losing any scholarships as a consequence, but not the opportunity to pursue a postsecondary education altogether. If I win, you have to tell me what happened.”

The tugging grew stronger, making my insides curl.

Why wouldn’t he just let this go? Why did it even matter to him?

“Fine,” I said. But only because I really wanted him to lighten Alba’s workload, and I hadn’t thought to make it a condition before agreeing to the fake engagement nonsense. “But the burden of proof lies with you. You have to prove, beyond any reasonable doubt, that you and I have chemistry. And that I’m attracted to you or whatever.” Which was impossible. Chemistry wasn’t something tangible you could see or touch or prove. It was a feeling; a connection; an obscure pull between two people.

And how the hell could you provide solid, irrefutable evidence of something so incredibly abstract? How would you go about proving that two people were attracted to each other without hooking them up to a bunch of machines and monitoring their heart rates and hormone levels?

Adrien finished off his drink with a cocky smirk, then put the empty tumbler down on the table. “Deal.”

His voice held so much confidence that it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand in warning. I polished off my own cocktail and put the empty glass beside his. Then I crossed my arms, leaned back, and eyed him warily. “Okay… now what?”

“Now you pick a safeword.”

I reeled, my stomach flopping upside down. “Pardon?”

“A safeword is a code word that signals—”

“I know what a safeword is,” I snapped at him, already annoyed. My cheeks were starting to feel hot.

His grin widened, his dimples deepened, and my blood pressure climbed higher and higher. “So pick one.”

I crossed my arms tighter. “I’m asking you why I need one. What the hell are you going to do?”

He shrugged. “You’ll see.”

My eyes narrowed. “Do you get a safeword?”

“I don’t need one.”

“How do you know?”

Adrien pushed a hand through his dark hair and released a sharp exhale through his nose. The smile never left his face, though. It was like he couldn’t decide whether he was annoyed or entertained.

“If you don’t pick a word, I’m going to pick one for you,” he said.

I tilted my head. “If you pick mine, I’m picking yours.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

He slighted closer. And I honestly hated, hated, hated how good he smelled. It was so inconveniently distracting.

“Cinnamon,” he said, dark eyes swimming over my face. “That’ll be your safeword. If you use it, I’ll play nice like those guys in your books and stop whatever it is I’m doing.”

“So you do know what cinnamon roll means.”

“I may have done some research. Is that what you’re into? Nice, wholesome guys who are sweet and supportive?”

“Yes. Obviously.” Wasn’t that what everyone was into?

His mouth quirked. “I see.”

“Waldois your safeword,” I decided before he could expose me to whatever depravity was running through his mind. “Let’s just get this over with. Tell me what we’re doing.”

Adrien’s gaze continued its lazy swim across my features. “The game is simple. For the next half-hour, I’m going to try my best to seduce you. The timer stops when the food arrives.”

I frowned. “And?”

“And all you have to do is… not melt into a puddle of lust on my lap.”

I blinked at him slowly. Sarcastically. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

Good lord. “You cannot seriously be this cocky. A puddle of lust?”

He grinned. “I give you fifteen minutes, tops. By thirty, you might be on your knees, declaring your undying love for me.”

My mouth twisted into a disgusted scowl. He looked like he was mostly serious. It was concerning. I was concerned for him. “Dude.”

He tried holding back his grin. He failed miserably. “I’m assuming that means we have a deal?”

“Just to be clear, you’re going to try and seduce me, and all I have to do is not, like… somehow end up on your lap?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“You’re fucking delusional,” I told him. “And I mean that with genuine sincerity. Check my nose.”

“You’re really that confident?” he asked, his eyes dancing with playful amusement. He was really enjoying himself. The fool. Wait until he got a taste of bitter failure.

I couldn’t wait to turn that smile upside down.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Ever. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and I, Ria Sanchez, am never going to be tempted to go anywhere near your lap.”

“Except the sky famously turns a mixture of orange, pink, and purple at sunrise and sunset, and gray when it’s cloudy.” He looked incredibly pleased with himself. “And grass withers to brown in the winter.”

I blinked at him. “Don’t be a smartass.”

His dimples popped as he chuckled. “I don’t think you of all people have any right to call anyone a smartass, Sanchez.”

“Is this part of the seduction? Have we started? Because if so, you’re doing terribly. I’m less seduced now than I was two minutes ago.”

“Really? Because you’re smiling quite a bit.”

“I’m definitely not smiling,” I assured him.

“You’re trying not to smile. That’s not the same thing as not smiling.”

“It’s also not the same thing as smiling. Do you see what I mean about the arguing thing?” I said, my arms uncrossing. “I literally can’t remember a time when we weren’t fighting.”

It must have been nice. Peaceful. Quiet.

“That’s very sweet. I can’t remember a time before you either, Sanchez.” His dimples flashed.

Swoosh. “That’s not what I said.”

Adrien leaned in, bringing his arm to rest beside my shoulder again. “You know I’m still finding glitter on my clothes? I don’t know where the fuck they’re coming from. I had my office deep cleaned twice, I replaced my chair, and the suit I was wearing that day is at the dry cleaners. I don’t know where they’re hiding.”

My grin broke free. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

He nudged my chin with his knuckle. “Yeah. You look real devastated.”

“In my defense, you overworked my sister. So you kind of deserved it a little bit.”

“You cost me a nine-figure investment deal.”

“You made me pick glitter out of dirt with tweezers.”

“Yousigned up to be a mod for my hate club.”

“You were the reason I was tackled and cuffed by the building security last week.”

“You smashed my dick in with a cane.”

“You’re a sadist.”

“You’re a liar.”

“For the last time, I’m not attracted to you. I’m not lying.” I said it slowly, loudly, clearly. I annunciated every individual word, leaning in so he could properly hear me.

“Tell that to your nose.” Another boop.

“If you boop me one more time I’m going to bite your finger.”

His grin turned devilish. “Is that a promise?”

I refused to let another smile slip. “For the record, this is the worst seduction attempt I’ve ever had to endure. You’re incredibly bad at this.”

His lips wobbled with the effort it was taking to hold back his laugh. “I’m admittedly a little rusty. I normally don’t have to try with women. They tend to come to me willingly, in shiny-haired hoards.”

That comment earned him another slow blink. “Every single thing that comes out of your mouth annoys the ever-loving shit out of me, Adrien. Like, to the point where it’s shaving years off my life. My blood pressure has never been this consistently high.”

He laughed way harder than was appropriate. It was a deep, rumbling sound, accented by those boyish dimples and squinty eyes. It was annoying. And you know what else was annoying? How straight and white and perfect his teeth were.

I was annoyed. That was why things were starting to feel tight and breathless. That was why my stomach felt funny. That and the alcohol, probably.

“You’re so fucking easy to rile up,” he said.

I watched as his chuckles subsided, leading to a soft silence. The fire still crackled, the grass still hissed, crickets still chirped, and the whiskey worked its warming magic through my limbs. It wasn’t… entirely horrible.

“You’re staring again, Sanchez,” Adrien eventually murmured.

“And you keep saying that like you’re not staring right back, Cloutier.”

His midnight gaze latched onto mine for a few quiet seconds, then he leaned in another inch. “Can I ask you something?” He reached up and brushed a gentle finger right underneath my left eye. “What is this?”

I ignored the subtle buzz his touch left on my skin. This was one hundred percent part of the seduction thing, and I wasn’t going to fall for it.

“Sectoral heterochromia,” I responded in an even, unaffected tone. My eyes were a chestnut brown, but the left iris had a small section of honey cut into it. It was pretty cool if I said so myself. “It’s kind of like a birthmark.”

“Was the hair thing on purpose?” he asked.

“What d’you mean?”

Adrien ran his fingers through the freshly chopped strands. “The new color matches your eyes. It fades into the same light gold. Was it on purpose?”

“Um… I don’t know. The whole day was a bit of a blur if I’m being honest,” I muttered. My voice sounded a tinge softer than I’d intended. “We had the hair appointments and there was champagne and Ricardo said a balayage would look good and I didn’t really know what that meant and suddenly I was somewhat blonde.”

Adrien was starting to smile again. “It was worth it.” He picked up another small lock of my hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “It’s crazy soft, too.”

“I know. I made him secretly write down all the products he used so I could buy them when I got home.”

“Why didn’t you just buy them while you were there?”

“Because your mom kept refusing to let me pay, and I was drowning in guilt. And the worst part is, I still don’t have clothes to wear this week.” Or underwear. So I was going to have to sneak out at some point and go on a sleuthy shopping trip.

“Just wear what you bought today. I already said it was fine.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s not a big deal, Ria. I’ll call the store and quietly take care of the bill if you really want.”

“That doesn’t make it much better. I don’t want your money either.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Think of it as a clothing allowance for the job I’ve hired you to do. If you don’t wear the clothes, she’s going to get offended.”

I sighed. “But you don’t understand just how much she actually spent on me.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m officially insisting that you wear them because I don’t want to have to deal with the consequences otherwise.”

I rolled my lips and glared at him.

“Stop plotting your revenge.” He nudged my chin lightly.

“You’re going to regret this.” I didn’t know how yet, but he would.

“Great. Can’t wait.”

And that was when I noticed he was still playing with my hair, his fingers toying with the fringes.

“I almost didn’t recognize you when you came in,” he said quietly. “It took a second for my brain to catch up.”

I cleared my throat. “Well, you did tell me I looked like the girl from The Ring this morning, so I’m assuming that’s a good thing.”

He chuckled. “You really did scare the shit out of me.”

“I don’t feel bad about it.”

He let out a breath. “Can’t you play nice for just two minutes? I’m trying my best to seduce you here.”

“You should change tactics. None of this is working.”

“No?” His hand had moved up a little bit, his fingers twisting and twirling strands of my hair.

I shook my head. “Not even a little bit.”

“That’s a shame.” His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Tell me, Sanchez, what type of men do you normally date? The sweet and caring kind we were talking about earlier?”

Technically, my only romantic experiences since high school had been a handful of short-lived flings and hookups that fizzled before they could turn into anything even remotely serious, so I didn’t have a type that I “normally” dated. But that wasn’t information he needed.

“I like men that don’t insert my name into every other sentence,” I said.

That earned me a dark chuckle. “And?”

“Men that don’t make my blood pressure spike to lethal levels every time they open their mouths.”

Adrien tutted. “Boring.”

“Is it boring or is it healthy?”

“It’s boring. What else?”

“Men that don’t compare me to the girl from The Ring.”

“Wow. I’m oh for three, huh?”

“You’re oh for a thousand, Adrien.”

He huffed through his nose. “If it makes you feel any better, I had a small crush on a girl in eighth grade that dressed up as The Ring girl for Halloween.”

I suppressed a smile.

“Granted, the costume was what led to the end of my short-lived crush, but only because she got on all fours and did the crawl. Instant unattraction. You really can’t unsee something like that,” he went on, not realizing what a sweet little prank idea he’d willingly handed me. “Also, she kept making the bone-cracking noises. I swear the whole thing made my teenage dick shrivel up and into itself.”

I chuckled reluctantly. “Is that really the story you want to have told me just now? While trying to turn me into a lusty puddle?”

“If the mental image of my shriveled-up dick doesn’t do it for you, then I honestly don’t know what will.”

I pressed my palms to my eyes. “Please stop. Forever stop.”

“Do you even have a libido, Sanchez?”

Another laugh burst out of me, and I dropped my hands to find Adrien watching me with soft, warm amusement.

It was weird.

No. That wasn’t correct. It should have been weird. But it was just… I felt a little…

Adrien brushed his knuckles over my cheekbone. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings with the Ring comparison. You’re very… you know how attractive you are.”

I arched my brows at him, far too aware of the tingling left behind by his touch. “So you think I’m attractive.”

“That’s not exactly what I said.”

“It’s what I heard.” It was my turn to tease him, and I was never going to let him live this one down.

He reached up again, this time brushing a strand of hair away from my forehead and eyes.

That should have felt weird, too. So why didn’t it? It just felt… fluttery. And a little breathless.

“Fine. Yes,” he said. “You are… stubborn, and exasperating, and a massive pain in my ass.”

I clicked my tongue. “Worst seducer on the planet.”

His lips twitched. “But you are also aggravatingly, inconveniently… maddeninglybeautiful, Ariana.”

My smile faltered. I blinked.

“It’s very distracting,” he went on, his gaze dipping to my parted lips for a single clumsy heartbeat. “Especially when you look at me like that.”

I scanned his face, looking for an inconsistency—a tell. My brows pinched when I pulled up short, my heart crawling up to the base of my throat.

“What?” he said.

“What’s your tell?” I asked him.

“My tell?”

“For when you lie. What is it?”

One confused dimple. “I’m being honest. You’re incredibly attractive. It’s fucking infuriating.”

Nothing. No twitch or flare or dip that I could see.

Th-th-thump.Th-thump.Th-th-thump.

I scanned his face again.

“Why is that so hard for you to believe?” he asked.

“Because you have good reason to lie. For seduction purposes.”

“I don’t need to lie to seduce you. And believe me, I wish I was lying about this. Or even exaggerating.”

I squinted at him, trying my best to detect any slight movement or change that would give him away. But, once again, I came up blank.

Maybe he didn’t have a tell. There was only one way to find out.

“Let’s play a game,” I said.

“We don’t have time for a game, I’m supposed to be charming you into a puddle of heat.”

I waved a dismissive hand. “You’ve already lost. We’re just running out the clock at this point. I’m not even close to puddling.”

“Because you keep distracting me and the conversation keeps straying.”

“That’s a you problem.” I brought both legs up onto the couch, crossed them, and twisted my body to fully face him.

“What are you doing?” Adrien asked with curious amusement.

“I need to be able to see your face really well.”

His brows pinched, though the bemused smirk remained. “What game are we playing, exactly?”

“Two truths and a lie.”

He huffed a chuckle. “Fine. One round. And I get an extra five minutes of seduction time.”

I rolled my eyes. “Take ten.” It wouldn’t make a difference. “Now go. Start. Tell me two truths and one lie, and I’ll try to guess which is which.”

Adrien tilted his head, thinking. “Let’s see…” He trailed off, observing me almost as closely as I was observing him. “Okay. One, I knew who you were when you marched up to me in the Waldo costume on Halloween, and I recognized you almost immediately. Two, I used to have a genuine, debilitating phobia of clowns when I was a kid, and I cried when I met Loonette from The Big Comfy Couch. And three, the pizza arrived ten minutes ago, and you still haven’t noticed.”

I blinked. Wait… what?

A devilishly arrogant smirk tilted Adrien’s mouth as my gaze snapped to the large kitchen window. Sure enough, two pizza boxes sat on the counter.

My forehead scrunched into a frown. “It’s been thirty minutes already?”

No way.

“Forty-five. The doorbell went off, and my dad signaled at us through the window. You didn’t notice.”

What the hell?

“So,” he said, looking far too pleased with himself, “which is the lie?”

My eyes moved back to the window. How had I not heard the doorbell? Had it really been a whole forty-five minutes already?

Adrien stroked my cheek with his knuckles again, setting off a string of sparks across my skin as his touch moved down to my jaw. He softly grabbed my chin, turning my head back to him.

“Which is the lie?” he asked again.

There was a long, dense pause as our gazes locked, and I heard my own breath hitch when his thumb brushed the skin underneath my bottom lip.

“Answer me, Ria,” he demanded quietly, his eyes sliding to my lips. My fingers dug into my palms when his thumb moved again.

“Two?” I sounded a little breathless. “The clown thing is the lie?”

His mouth curved into a pleased half-smile. “Good.”

The purred approval dripped straight to my core and settled there, simmering.

My throat worked as I swallowed. “How did you know who I was?”

His gaze was still fixed on my mouth. “Alba keeps framed pictures of the two of you on her desk. Your face isn’t exactly easy to forget.”

“And here I thought my disguise had been rock-solid.”

His half-smile slowly spread. “I’d have recognized you from a mile away. And I did, every time I caught a glimpse of you in the office. You’re impossible to miss.”

That was… a lot of new information.

Adrien’s hand moved to cup my jaw, his thumb caressing my cheek. “You’re so fucking pretty it’s annoying,” he chided, his voice dropping to a low, molten gravel. “I hate how much I love looking at you. I hate it, Sanchez. And I can’t tell what I’m more angry about anymore, all the bullshit you put me through, or the fact that your lips are so fucking plump and pink.”

I stilled, my breath catching.

“Do you still think I’m lying?” he asked.

My mouth had slighted open, my throat drying so rapidly I thought I might choke.

“Answer me, Ria.”

What the fuck was happening?

My tongue darted out to wet my lips as I tried to summon a single coherent thought. Adrien’s dark gaze turned feral, though his touch remained a smooth, gentle caress.

I was so confused, holy shit.

“Um… I honestly don’t know,” I managed.

“No?”

“Mm-mm.” I shook my head.

“I’m admitting to losing my mind over your lips, and you won’t even believe me?”

Fire ants were starting to crawl underneath my skin where he was stroking it.

His mouth twitched. “Look at how pretty you are when you blush,” he murmured approvingly. “I never stood a fucking chance. It really is too bad that we don’t have any… chemistry.”

His hand slid to the back of my head, fisting a handful of my hair. “So fucking soft,” he praised. And then slowly, and with excruciating gentleness, he pulled my head back until my mouth was level with his as he peered down at me. His dark eyes were unrecognizable, they were so glazed over.

“Such a pretty girl.”

I shivered when the heat of his molten whiskey breath grazed my lips. We both felt it.

A small part of me knew that I should have wanted to stop whatever the hell was currently happening.

I should have wanted to.

I didn’t.

“The things I would do to those plush lips if you were attracted to me.” He was so, so close. Just a few more millimeters and… “You can’t even begin to imagine. I’d devour you, Sanchez.”

My eyelids kept fluttering, wanting to close. I couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“And then I’d properly punish you for everything you’ve done. The investment; the glitter; the insults. For constantly running that smart, bratty little mouth of yours.” His grip on my hair tightened a touch. “I’d punish you for being so fucking pretty. For making me want you like this, against my better judgment—against my will.”

I felt dizzy.

His scent, his breath, his words. They were all starting to mix and mash with the alcohol, making my head spin.

“It’s too bad that we have no chemistry.” His lips brushed the corner of my mouth and my breath snagged, my eyes shuttering closed. I tilted my head, feeling drunk off the sweet air we were sharing.

And then…

He let me go.

The absence of heat was what hit me first. It sent an unpleasant shiver down my body that made me want to reach for it again. My eyes popped open. I blinked.

Adrien stood and rounded the patio table, putting way too much distance between our bodies.

“All right, you win,” he said casually, his voice snapping back into its normal octave, as though the last few minutes had been a very vivid figment of my imagination.

The only evidence suggesting otherwise was the very large and prominent bulge in Adrien’s slacks, which he made no effort to disguise or hide.

I was very aware of how embarrassingly labored my breathing had become, and I was even more aware of how many inappropriate seconds I’d been gawking at—

“You’re staring again.”

My gaze darted up to his as my cheeks colored. His smile was as dimpled and arrogant as ever, though his eyes were a vividly charred black.

“Um…” I started, my tongue failing to reconnect to my brain. “What.”

“You won,” Adrien said. “The food arrived, and you weren’t puddled on my lap so… well done. I’ll reduce Alba’s workload and all that other stuff.”

I blinked at him slowly.

He cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m pretty beat so… I’ll see you upstairs. Enjoy the pizza.”

And then he turned around and left.

Just like that.

What.

The.

Hell.