Total D*ck (Bad Bitch #3)(8)

By: Christina Saunders

“We going somewhere?” Kennedy ran his hand along the back of one of the conference chairs.

“Rhone Industries. They’re expecting us. Carey will take point on trying to discern how the breach occurred. We’re there to gather information and get a foothold on how to continue our investigation.”

“Investigation?” He shook his head, his wavy hair tickling the ridge of his ear. “When are we filing suit?”

“When we get the facts. Unlike certain attorneys, we don’t go off half-cocked, sling baseless allegations, and try to shake down defendants to line our own pockets with ill-gotten gains from frivolous lawsuits.”

Carey whistled and stood, gathering his bag. “Shots fired. Mayday.”

Kennedy opened his mouth, no doubt with a biting retort, when Graham walked in. “Hey, boss, got your stuff.”

I stepped around Kennedy and grabbed my coat and bag. “Thanks. Please scan in the contracts and have one mailed to Mr. Granade’s office.”

“Sure thing. Give me a call if you need anything.” He offered his hand to Kennedy. “I’m Graham, by the way.”

They shook.

“Graham is my paralegal. He’s the best there is, so treat him like you would any other professional.” I didn’t tolerate anyone being disrespectful to my staff.

“I always do. My pleasure, Graham.” Kennedy demonstrated some manners for once.

“Cool. I’m Carey.”

“Our hacker extraordinaire?” Graham smiled, his calmness smoothing out the earlier tension in the room. “I can’t wait to see what you find.”

“Best way to catch a hacker? Hire one yourself.” Carey grinned and packed his laptop. “We rolling?”

“Yes. We can take my car unless you prefer to drive separate?”

“I can drive us.” Kennedy walked around the table and opened the door Graham had just walked through.

“No, that’s okay. I’m perfectly capable of driving all of us.” I didn’t want to ride in whatever beat-down jalopy he called his.

“Sure, but I know these streets better than anyone.”

I stiffened, biting back the impulse to take him down a peg or fifty.

Carey and Graham exchanged a look.

“Not better than I do.” I pulled my key from my bag and walked past him. “I’m driving. Let’s go.”

He may have won on the fee agreement, but I’d be damned if I’d let him take control of anything else.

We rode the elevator in silence, Carey glancing up at me every so often in the reflective doors. Kennedy, though, made a point to look over every inch of me slowly as we descended. I stared at his reflection, but he didn’t seem concerned that I knew he was checking me out. He was trying to get under my skin. I was just another little game to him, a skirt to chase. He obviously didn’t know me at all.

I took the opportunity to get another look at him. His suit was cut perfectly to accentuate his broad chest and trim waist. He’d shaved, his jawline smooth. Would it be silky to the touch? A better question was, would the smoothness make a slap sting even more?

He kept examining my body, scouring me as my traitorous heart raced. Heat bloomed in my chest and mixed with the sensation of falling created by the elevator.

Stop gawking at him. You are acting like an idiot. I shook my head the slightest bit, drawing his eyes to mine in the reflection. We stared until it was obvious one of us should have looked away. Neither of us did.

When the elevator stopped, I rushed out first, then schooled my steps to appear nonchalant.

Get it together, Scarlett. Carey walked at my elbow, Kennedy lagging behind a few paces.

“So, is it going to be like this all the time?” Carey asked, running a hand over his close-cropped dirty blond hair.

“What do you mean?” I focused on calming my breathing.

“Just, the tension. This is worse than when my parents got divorced.”

“No tension.” I clicked the key fob and my car lit up. “Don’t worry. We’ll get into a groove. This is a new assignment, that’s all.”

“You sure?” He raised a pierced eyebrow, the silver barbell adding to his apprehension.

“Yes,” I said with a confidence I didn’t feel. Kennedy’s antics had only just begun, and I wasn’t sure how long it would be before I’d have to pull him aside and explain how this was going to work: I was in charge.

Kennedy smirked and walked to the passenger door, not even offering to let Carey ride up front. Carey didn’t seem to mind, climbing into the backseat and closing his door.

I slid behind the wheel and started the engine as Kennedy sat next to me. My skirt had ridden up as I’d sat down. I tugged it back in place and glanced over to him. Giving me a sweltering look that sent a lick of heat between my thighs, he quirked his lips at my attempt to cover my legs.

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