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What the hell is this man talking about? Contract? What am I? A businesswoman?
I groaned internally, but I could've possibly done it physically because Alsace mimicked me. He grabbed my heels that was on the floor, his hair a little messy while he tried to put his tie back in.
He knelt in front of me. I watched him put my heels in front of my feet. He looked up to me as if to say that he's waiting for me to put on my heels. I decided to wait for a few minutes.
Alsace Montellia. Kneeling.
"This could look good on the papers." I said.
He raised a brow, "Yeah? Like you and Ken type of good, honey?"
I crossed my arms, slowly positioning my feet so that the heels will just slip on perfectly.
I took it off because it felt like shit wearing it and not even walking. I was starting to feel bad for my feet.
"How do you know that?" I asked.
"Know what?" he stood up, brushing off his knees.
"About me and Ken?"
He looked away for a few seconds, a moment of silence passing between us. "I read the newspaper, honey. I'm supposed to know everything."
I rolled my eyes. Cocky bastard thinks he needs to know everything.
"What's your preposition? Or whatever the hell that is." I changed the subject.
"Contract." he corrected me.
"Alright, bastard. What is it about?" I said harshly. The words came out of my mouth on autopilot. Very normal as if I've done this before.
He glanced at me, and then shook his head like he couldn't believe I just called him a bastard. Oh, well, he deserves to be called a bastard.
"Let's have sex together." he said.
I laughed. My hands went to my stomach from the impact this laugh would do to me. I eyed him, his eyebrows reaching the ceiling. I laughed more than I can imagine.
"You wish, bitch." I said.
There is no way in hell I'm going to fuck with someone like Alsace. Some random stranger from the bar? Sure. Someone I know but won't be meeting for the rest of my life? Sure. But Alsace Montellia? No way.
I'd rather lose my life, than lose myself in him.
Alsace almost pushed me to the wall, but my instincts were faster to dodge him from doing it so. I watched him stumble around, hitting his annoying face with my fist.
He groaned. "Touch me one more, and that'll hurt more." I warned him. He started to touch his chin as if it hurts so much he can hardly move it.
The man's lips went from a groan to a fucking grin.
