CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Stop it, stop it, stop it, her brain whispered, but it was too late to stop the inevitable. If she'd been asked what her plan had been accosting Laurent in his office, she wouldn't have been able to say. Laurent groaned into her mouth and palmed her ass and every other logical thought went flying out of her head. This was what she wanted, no needed. She needed this. This connection, this desperation to enter into the other's body. Her lungs screamed but she gave herself to him completely. Laurent freaking Ricco, author of her fall from grace.

He pulled back and rested his forehead on hers, breathing in air and grinding his hard erection against her center. His hands came up to join his forehead and traveled down her face with what looked like tender affection. That jerked her out of her daydream and she shut down but not pulling away. This was what she wanted on the long run.

He stared at her as if he'd sensed the change in mood and pulled away completely, rubbing his palm down his face with a growl.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" she heard him mutter before he turned back to her. His eyes, so lustful and content only a few seconds ago, darkened with anger as his eyes ran from her heaving breasts and pointed nipples and down to where she'd crossed her legs to get a little friction.

He removed his coat and threw it at her. "Cover yourself up."

She smirked as she let the coat drop to the floor. "Go fuck yourself."

His eyes lightened as if this was what he wanted and he pointed at her face. "Now, that's the Rose I know. Those eyes, those lips. You should really take acting lessons."

She sat on his table and opened her legs wide, giving allowance within her lips for her tongue to make a light forage here and there. 

"Yeah?" she whispered. "I guess that's why that gun in your trousers is still trying to make an escape."

She admired the fact that, rather than hide the fact that he was still aroused, he only gripped his cock through his trousers. "This? It's a physical response, baby. Any whore walking around would be capable of eliciting the same."

His words hurt but she didn't let it show, only opening her legs more and slowly moving the hem of her gown further up. "Why don't you come here then? We shouldn't leave your physical reactions unattended. Think about those poor women on the street. No one needs to have her innocence ripped because you can't control yourself physically."

His jaws clenched, his eyes narrowed and he stalked towards her. For a second, she was worried that she'd gone too far, he'd hit her and she'd never be able to recover from it. But he only slammed her thighs together and dragged her down, pulling until she got to the door. "Get out."

She hid her relief behind her hands. "Will do. I'm sure people would love to see how I look coming out of your office this time of the day. What do you think they'd think? Maybe I could add a few tears too."

He growled, went to pick up the coat and tossed it at her again. 

"Wear that."

Deciding she'd pushed him enough, she wore his coat. It dwarfed her and she closed her eyes so as not to give in to the urge to smell the jacket.

He harshly dragged the coat lower until even he could see it wasn't moving again and then turned back to his seat.

"Don't come here again."

"Of course, sir," she said with a mocking bow and then left his office. She wasn't entirely stupid. She'd made sure Julia wouldn't be at her seat, and she had a more reasonable change of clothes in the nearest restroom. She winced as the heels strained her feet, locking the door behind her as soon as she entered the restroom.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She really did look like a whore—more than she'd looked when she came in. Her lips were swollen and her hair looked like someone had run a hand through it repeatedly. 

In her gown, her nipples were still poking out and the large, obviously borrowed coat completed the look, making her look like a pampered, world-class hooker. She took a picture and sent it to her friend before she changed into her suit.

By the time she'd fixed herself as much as she could—she really couldn't do much for her lips—there were about 10 messages from Anna. She laughed and placed a phone call. 

"What the hell?" Anna screamed and she laughed drunkenly. 

Today's performance made her feel high. She'd finally gotten proof that no matter what Laurent's plan was or would be, she still had him under his thumbs. The tender gaze and his fingers had pretty much confirmed it. She wasn't going to think about how some of her own behaviors had been the opposite of her plan.

"I looked hot, right?"

"Oh my God," her friend squealed again. "Where are you?"

"In the bathroom."

"You're kidding."

"Um," 

"I can't believe you had your first time in a freaking bathroom. Are you crazy, Rose? You were supposed to plead and look pitiful so he would still be open to a relationship, not show up on Monday morning looking like sex on sticks."

She laughed again.

"One, we didn't have sex, and two, apart from the fact that I seduced him until he nearly came in his pants, I don't think the plan will work. I kind of fucked it up."

"Tell me everything."

"Okay," she said, leaning on the basin. He met me in the office, and we talked a little, then we kissed. After kissing, he became rude, so I may or may not have said some things to him. If I mention a relationship with him after all that, he'd probably spit on me."

There was a moment of silence before Anna said, 

"How bad?"

"What?"

"The thing you said—how bad?"

She winced.

"I may have implied that he lacked control of his body and that rather than rape someone out there, he could have me."

"Rose?" her friend gasped out loud.

"What?" she asked, crossing her arms. "He started it."

Over the phone, Anna just laughed and kept laughing. It quickly got a little irritating.

"Okay, that's enough. What should I do?"

"You called the man a rapist?" she responded and that started off another round of laughter.

She squeezed the top of her nose and her friend finally stopped.

"Sorry, sorry. I think it's fine, though. Now he knows you're still angry and planning something. You just need to up your acting skills. Let him see your anger turn to sexual frustration, and when you finally get the sex out of your system, you gradually get softer with him." She snapped her fingers, "Bam, problem solved."

"Really?" she asked skeptically but she could see the wisdom in the plan."

It just might work.

A knock sounded on the door and she quickly stood up.

"Thanks, Anna. Talk to you later."