Holden Drake is a certain kind of man—one who has mastered the art of seduction and deception. A man who has convinced every woman he's slept with that they will never again experience pleasure like they do in his arms. Women want to fuck him. Most men want to be him—rich, powerful, successful.
Most...not all.
I am not one of them.
From where he stands on my plush rug—one no doubt he chose because that's what is expected of the manipulative, controlling bastard—I can see through his veneer. He may think the years he spent on this earth before I was born gives him a leg up, but in experience, we're evenly matched. And I will push him to the edge, until he clings to the boundaries he's set by the tips of that overpriced, pansy-ass manicure.
I give him my best bored expression and mirror his stance. He came here to talk to me.
After a drag-out moment of whose manhood is bigger, Holden finally speaks, a whiff of his irritation permeating the tension in the air. "Mr. Kinsey, I see we have a problem with rules."
I shrug. "They're meant to be broken, right?"
"How cliché of you." He removes his hand from his pocket and flicks his wrist to reveal the Rolex beneath his cuff. "My time is valuable. Shall we 'cut to the chase' as you unimaginative Yanks say?"
I'm sure that was meant to be offensive, but it's going to take much more than some high brow humor to piss me off. "Sure."
"Madeleine Rothschild."
The mention of her name takes me from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye—I restrain myself from punching him in the face. For all I know, he could be fishing for intel, but by the way he curls his mouth around her name and his eyes light up with victory, he deserves a good wailing on.
"She's not your client."
"Okay. And?"
The muscles in Holden's jaw flex. My disregard for his precious time shows in his impatience. "Would you care to explain why you've acquainted yourself with her on several accounts?"
Marissa may be right about Holden's keen observations in and outside of his club.
"The cigar bar was your idea." I'd like to think a couple more jabs will send Holden into a frenzy, but instead, he studies me. The calm that descends upon him is unsettling.
"The Club's rules strictly prohibit the stealing of other member's clients," he says.
"Stealing?" Is this guy for real? "I'm pretty sure talking to a woman isn't stealing."
"It's not."
"Then why are we having this conversation? Don't you have better things to do, like prove to the world you're a pretentious prick?" I follow his gesture and check the time on my watch.
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Broken Boy
ChickLitA.J. Kinsey knew he was never meant to love until he meets the one woman he'll break all the Cheaters Club rules for...even if it leaves him broken. written by @MarriedtoArod Updates on Fridays