A Deal with the Bossy Devil (Bad Billionaire Bosses, #1)

by Kyra Parsi

“You’re staring again,” he said quietly, a smug smile tilting the side of his mediocre mouth. Okay, you know what? “You keep saying that like you’re not staring right back.”

“Which part angers you, exactly? Is it my mediocre mouth or my lopsided dimples?” “Both. And your eyes are weird.”

“Sorry,” he eventually said, amusement tilting his deep voice. “I didn’t hear him come out over the deafening sound of all the chemistry we don’t have.”

“You’re staring again, Sanchez,” Adrien eventually murmured. “And you keep saying that like you’re not staring right back, Cloutier.”

“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.”

“Adrien, we despise each other,” I reminded him. “Right.” He paused again, this time to wet his lips and clear his throat. “Except for the part where I don’t actually despise you.”

“You went all quiet.” “I…” I swear to Mother Gaia herself, if you blurt anything about marrying him out loud, I’ll hurl you out the window. “I do.” No. Wait.

“You’re staring again, Sanchez.” I swallowed, and his gaze dropped, tracing the movement. “And, as usual, you’re staring right back, Cloutier.” “Can’t help it,”

Time stood still for exactly one heartbeat. And then his hands were on me, and the world went up in flames.

“You’re in my head, you’re under my skin, you’re fucking everywhere, Ria. I can’t think properly when you’re around, and I can’t trust that I’m not misreading the signs.”

“How is it fair? How was I supposed to stand a chance?”

And just when it felt like I was going to burst from desperation, he sunk down to his knees in front of the bed, pulled my hips toward his face, and ruined my fucking life.

“You know that one Jessica Simpson song?” “Don’t you dare bring 90’s pop into this,” I demanded. Again, I was absolutely not smiling. “Am I irresistible to you, Sanchez?”

yup i love this man

He laughed, then leaned toward me again. “Sit properly for me.” I sunk into the seat and glared at this dimple as he reached for my seatbelt, clasping it into place. My gaze did not immediately dip down to his mouth; my thighs did not clench when I caught a whiff of his intoxicating cologne; and my chest absolutely did not stutter when he pecked my cheek and shot me a wink.