7 Vindictive

Caleb's POV

Just as I sauteed the mushrooms along with all the other veggies I had thrown into the pan, the door to the guest room creaked, letting me know that my assistance has finally decided to grace me with her presence.

I knew I was crabby, but I couldn't help it. There has never been a time when I had brought a girl home, served her wine, given her my best moves, only to have her more interested in a faded canopy than me.

It irked me almost as much as her straight-laced attitude she usually sported at work.

Something about Ruth Brooke tickled my competitive side. Ever since that first day when she had defiantly glared up at me for spilling the coffee on her and not owning upto it, she had made me want to poke and play with her.

Just to see how far I could push her before she'd break her professional mask.

The predator in me could sense something wild just beneath the sophisticated disguise she dawned on in front of others.

It was proved of course, when I had recieved her misfired torpedo email that very day. She seemed like a woman who practiced immense self-control even when she just wanted to break free.

A shiver ran up my spine as I remembered a small chink in her armour that she had displayed in the elevator.

If it hadn't been for her freezing up the second the doors had opened, I'd have personally enjoyed peeling off the layers prissy attitude she strutted around in.

As it was, I knew her momentary lapse in control will make her even more wary around me than before.

And true to the form, she had started keeping her distance from me. Until today.

The no-costume Halloween party was as boring as citing a memorandum in every single meeting.

Usually I liked halloween parties, especially because the disguises added some level of intrigue even at an ordinary office party, but this party made me want to crawl out of my skin.

And when our office receptionist, Ellen Cole had decided to press up against me every chance she got, and then pulled me to an alcove to sink her claws into me for re, and I had decided to leave early.

It wasn't that I didn't like the attention I generally recieved from women. It was just that as much of an asshole as I might sound, I liked the attention on my terms.

It was definitely not welcomed from a woman like Ellen Cole with eyes as sharp as a barracuda. There was something about her that made me feel unsettled around her. Like I was a second away from being pushed into a trap hole.

She had social climber written all over her and I couldn't even begin to wrap my head around the fact that someone like her was actually related the hardworking and self-deprecating person like Ruth.

Ruth, with her do-gooder attitude and a sharp tongue was the one on my mind as I had made my way back to my office hoping to catch her by surprise just to have a few moments of innocent, verbal sparring.

That changed when I saw the sensual creature prowling my cabin, touching my chair in a way that made me feel her fingers strokes all the way to my toes.

Who knew watching a furniture getting caressed could be so seductive?

As I heard her walk up to the counter behind me, I vaguely wondered if furniture really was her thing? That, afterall, was the reason I was cooking dinner instead of feasting on the dessert.

But then I remembered the kisses we had shared and I had to grit my teeth to control another shudder that ran through me.

Serving my last minute stir-fry in two plates, I turned and gazed at the object of my irritation and noticed that she had indeed changed her dress shirt and now wore a light, flowy sundress.

Her brown hairs fell around her face and neck in ringlets, making her round face appear softer. It fell over her shoulders, giving her a more feminine look than her tight hair bun at work ever did.

The dress somehow softened her erect posture, enhancing her delicious curves that made my fingers itch to explore. 

Even though she should've looked timid, gazing up at me, the way she still held her head high looked like she was refusing to cower under my glare.

Placing one of the plates in front of her and other next to it, I refilled our wine glasses, and eyed her with a strategically stoic expression.

When she met my gaze, I expected her to meekly avert it. But she held my gaze with the same pride that had shone in her eyes while accepting my challenge this evening.

And that was the very reason I had thrown all caution to the wind and brought her home, knowing that it was a bad idea to indulge with an office assistant in just a few weeks old job.

This pride that she unexpectedly - and maybe unknowingly - projected made me want to see how she would look like when she was trapped in the throes of passion.

The beast in me just had to know what would happen when she let her prim and proper attire slip off her.

Taking a seat next to her, I tried to keep my voice pleasant even though the caveman in me wanted to show just how pissed off her disinterest had made me.

"So, I see you did change," I commented, prodding her.

Almost on autopilot she remarked, "just my shirt, yes."

So, she wanted to play.

"Oh? In that case, how about you preposition my couch this time? I'm sure it is available for the weekend," I replied, raising my brow at her.

She glared at me for a minute, no doubt wanting to shred me to pieces with a few choice words.

I waited, hoping she'd give in to the urge. But disappointingly, she exhaled and said, "look, I know I hurt your ego -"

"My ego?" I interrupted before I could stop myself, and this time she raised her brow and scathingly answered, "no? So, should I flatter myself and say that you manage to catch feelings in all of the few weeks that you've known me, sir?"

Get a grip, Caleb. I told myself. If I wanted to play, I will need to step very carefully.

While she didn't shy to use that tart tongue of hers, I could sense that one wrong word on my part would make her flee. And where was the satisfaction in that?

Taking my silence for submission, she continued, "But, that wasn't my intention. I was just distracted by the fact that you didn't carry me to your bedroom."

"So? Did I hurt your feelings, Ms. Brooke?" I asked, assuming an innocent expression.

She paused, then started, "that's not what I mea―"

"Did I also distract you, when I was kissing and carrying you to the room then?" I said, keeping my voice neutral with some difficulty.

"Well, I was just minding your steps―"

"Maybe that was me pulling back too when I―"

"Oh, alright I get it. I agree I wasn't into it. I know I am just not ready for what I had agreed to. And I was being too stubborn to admit it." She threw up her hands, clattering her fork.

That was it. That was why she had agreed to spend the weekend with me, even after clearly not wanting to.

She had honestly surprised me when she'd agreed to it. And maybe herself as well.

Because we both knew she wasn't the kind of girl to jump into anything without thinking it through, but she was too stubborn to admit it, or back off the challenge I had thrown at her.

Taking a deep breath I said, "what you hurt, Ruth, was my pride."

Frowning, she genuinely looked confused when she asked, "pride? In what?"

In what?

"Well, there I was, giving you my best moves and you―"

She interrupted my rant with an amused expression and said, "those were your best moves? How.. disappointing."

Oh no, she didn't.

Dropping my fork, I got off my bar stool, stepped right upto her and swirled her to face me.

She gasped, startled, looking up at me with wide eyes. Taking advantage of her sundress, I ran my palm from her knee, right up to her thigh, pulling her against me.

Her erratic breathing mingled with mine, and she involuntarily licked her lips.

Grasping her thigh, I lifted her almost off her seat, and pressed myself to her, making her moan low in her throat.

I turned, carrying her with me and pressed her against the counter, before lifting her up on it and stepping between her open thighs.

Stroking her leg all the way to her hip, I forced my mind focus and not get distracted by the soft feel of her skin.

I ran my other hand up her back and into her hair, tilting her head back.

Her eyes fluttered close and her lips parted, waiting for me. I brushed my lips onto hers, before moving them to her ear and whispering, "not my best moves, huh? Guess you'll have to wait until your mind is as ready as your body to see them then."

Pulling back, I vindictively smiled at her dazed expression and said, "now, I know your facination with furnitures, but try to spare the virtue of my kitchen counter while I book the cab that'll drop you home."

Fully recovered now, her narrowed eyes glittered with anger as she hopped off the counter and hissed "you little p-"

Snorting like the asshole that I was, I interrupted her mid-sentence and said, "I assure there's nothing little about me, dear Ruth. But I guess you won't get to see that for yourself just yet."

Gritting her teeth she stomped into the guest room to fetch her bag, banging the door to and fro as she went.

Without glancing at me, she opened the door when I called her out, unable to resist one last jibe.

"Oh, and Ms. Brooke, have a satisfying weekend."

She looked like she barely stopped herself from flipping me off as she slammed the door shut behind her, leaving me with an empty house and silent laughter.

Work on monday sure will be interesting.