Flambé: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy (Flambé Series Book 1)

by Elle Berlin

“I meant—”

  “I know what you meant, Arie.” I stand up and move into her personal space, backing her up against the desk. “Maybe Simon didn’t tell you, but I’m not taking the job. Remember how you asked me to not take the job? Yes? That’s what’s going on here. I’m not taking it.” Her gaze hardens even more, her lips pursing. “Seriously?” I shake my head, getting pissed now. “Does everything about my existence insult you? Or is this one of those post hook-up psychosis things where you need to spew your authority all over the place and give one giant middle finger to the patriarchy, rather than admitting that having sex with me was actually one of the best—”

  Smack!

  Her hand crashes across my face and pain shoots through my cheek, knocking the wind out of me. I turn back to look at her, stunned, mouth open as I attempt to rotate my jaw. Nothing’s broken, but damn does it sting.

  “Seriously?” I hiss.

  She glares at me, her face hard and eyes blazing. “Fucking you is not the problem!”

  I tick my head to the side and raise my eyebrows. “No? Then is it the fact that you want to do it again that’s the issue?”

  “Connor!” she growls at me. “Would you please shut up and listen!”

  “I said, I’m not taking the job!” I lean into her space again, despite the ringing in my cheek. “That was your ultimatum, wasn’t it? So, this is all incredibly simple if you’d just—”

  She grabs my neck and kisses me.

  I’m not expecting it, but the second our mouths connect that ravenous instinct kicks in. My tongue slides against hers and my hands snake around her back to pull her against me. All my annoyance goes straight into the kiss, and just as pissed off, she matches my intensity—furious meeting furious. Before I know it, I’m pawing at the buttons on the front of her blouse, my knuckles grazing her incredible tits. But the buttons are too damn complicated, so instead I lift her up onto the desk and drop my hands on her knees. She moans as I roughly spread her legs apart, stepping between her knees to lean her down against—

  “Wait!” Arie puts her hand on my chest and pushes me back, her face flushed and pink. “You have to take the job,” she says breathlessly.

  “What?”

  “I’m serious. You have to sign this contract,” she insists, lifting her perfect ass up from the desk to pull out the papers she’s sitting on.

  My head spins.

  “You aren’t making sense!” I snap, completely confused and pulling back. Arie wipes the lipstick off her bottom lip with the back of her hand, looking up at me with glazed eyes.

  “Look, I know I’m a bitch,” she says softly. “And I know I did everything I possibly could to belittle you. And yes, I realize I told you to not take this job, but—”

  “Is this a joke?” My hands shoot to my temples as I step back. My confused fingers rake through my hair, then hook behind my skull, my elbows wide. This woman is giving me whiplash, and double time.

  “It’s not a joke! I need you to listen.” Arie grabs my shirt and yanks me back to her, flattening both her hands on my chest. Her hands are brands against the thin fabric as I stand rigid, not touching her. I’ve no clue what game this is. “Everything you’re thinking right now—” Arie pleads “—yes, it’s probably true. Everything you’re afraid of, I’m sure that’s true also.”

  “You’re playing me! That’s what I think.”

  All my red flags and spidey senses go to full attention. Suddenly, this feels a whole lot like Zariah and how she twisted every truth into a lie that got me handcuffed and busted. Only, this time it’s Arie’s fingers that are digging into my shirt and gripping. I played this game once already and I didn’t like how it ended.

  “You’re right, I deserve that,” Arie says, her bossy tone disappearing. I move to bail, but her eyes flick up to mine and that streak of vulnerability returns. It punches me in the gut. I know I should get out while I’m ahead, but those pleading blue eyes are hooks in my skin. “If you don’t take this job,” Arie continues, her whole posture pleading for me to listen, “I’m going to lose my business partner and this restaurant.”

  Her hands slide off my chest and fall flat on the desktop, her whole demeanor angling down to follow the flop of her hands. I’m quiet, rigid, not sure how to take this. Not sure if anything she’s said is true.

  “You’re playing me,” I say finally, my jaw tight. “You’re over-exaggerating. I’m sure Simon’s pissed, but he’s not—”

  “He left,” Arie coughs out, her whole body flinching raw as she says it. “He told me to figure this out. To fix it. To fix things with you.”

  I shake my head. Words. That’s all this is. Manipulation. “I’m just a guy,” I state frankly. “I’m not that important to you or your whole little business operation.”

  “God, I wish that was true.”

  I frown, tilting away from her. That was a dig—a big one—and yet, it also feels like her first real admission, the first real scrap of the truth. Arie’s face is pale, pleading for me to not take that reaction personally.

  “Look, there’s an investor,” she explains quickly. “He made us an ultimatum, which was to hire you, or he pulls out of the restaurant.” I drop my hands to my sides, watching her closely, not sure I can trust any of this. “When I met you at The Orchid,” she continues, “that was supposed to be … well, exactly what it was. A hot one-night stand, a chance for me to …” Her eyes waiver, like she’s ashamed of what she needed. “It was a chance to be someone else for an evening. To let loose, blow off stress. I’ve been working non-stop on this restaurant for eight months. I haven’t been to a club or gone on a date for …” She swallows, that flush of pink returning to her neck. “Look, we both know what one-night stands are for, and you were—” She tentatively puts her hand on my chest again, right above my heart, waiting to see if I’ll remove it. I let her, for the moment. “Connor, you were perfect. You were exactly what I needed to get me out of my funk.”

  I watch her closely as her eyes eagerly search my face, her fingers fluttering against my shirt. She waits for me to say something, to cut the tension with a joke, or to admit I got exactly what I wanted that night as well. Only, I’m not ready for any of that yet.

  She drops her hand, feeling my rejection. “I swear to you, the meeting with our investor wasn’t until the day after I met you. And when I walked into the Gin n’ Lava, the last person I expected to see was you.”

  “And that pissed you off?”

  “The whole idea pissed me off!” she blurts, shaking her head, frustration getting the best of her. “I was pissed off before I walked into the Gin n’ Lava. This is my restaurant. My gig. I’ve spent years wanting this. Whoever this Wonder-boy was—” I raise my eyebrows and she softens her tone. “Look, it didn’t matter who worked at the Gin n’ Lava; I was determined to hate him. But the fact that it was you—”

  She stops for a second, looks up at me tentatively.

  “Uh-huh?” I say, with more ire in my voice than is necessary.

  “Yeah, well,” she looks at the wall, avoiding my glare. “When I saw you standing behind the bar, shirtless and letting women grab your biceps, I just—”

  “Got jealous?” I tick my head to the side in defiance as her lips purse together, the dragon in her eyes flaring again. I wait for her to snap, but she fights it, restraining herself from insulting me, even though I know she wants to.

  “You made everything more … complicated,” she says diplomatically. “And yes, I like to be in control. And yes, the whole Gin n’ Lava show was the opposite of what Flambé is. And I’ve worked too hard to—” She cuts herself off, biting her tongue before she finishes the sentence.

  “Man, you really hate me, don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t!” She grabs my shirt, insistent, the force of her grip betraying her attempts to keep this casual. Her eyes plead, but they’re also filled with that raw heat, that pulse that draws us together. Sure, that tangle of desire makes this more complicated, but I swe
ar there’s something more in her gaze, something personal, and part of my armor fades. She licks her lips, releasing her grip on me and recovering. “I, I—uh, we both know hate isn’t the right word for it.” Her mouth is only inches from mine, her breath heating my chin.

  “What you’re trying to say is that you don’t hate the sex?” I ask directly, leaning forward and making her knees slide further open on either side of my hips. She lets me, allowing my advance without pushing back, knowing the second she snaps, I’m out of here. I graze my mouth along the tender skin of her neck, listening to the shallow of her breath. “But just to be clear, you aren’t a fan of the rest.”

  Her hands cover mine, pressed into the desktop. She uses the angle to push her chest flat against me. It’s hot and sexy as her mouth waltzes up next to mine—not kissing so much as breath and heat.

  “Connor,” she exhales against my lips, “I do hate that you can make a cocktail as good as mine—and on the first try no less.” I pull my head back slightly, but she follows, not allowing me the space. “God, you have no idea how much I hate it.” Her ankles sneak around my calves, the heels of her shoes hooked against my legs. “And, yes, I hate that every woman who looks at you wants her own personal pony ride. And worse, I know that’s exactly why our investor wants you to work at Flambé, because you’re so damn hot and dirty it will make every woman’s skin ache.” I don’t move, all of me rigid, aware that any slight movement from her has me hardening. Her thighs squeeze slightly. Her mouth dallies at the corner of mine. “I hate all those other women because I know how good the ride is, and yes, it makes me insane to think about you wetting their panties in my restaurant.”

  I smile against her mouth. “Well, what if I promised to—”

  “Shut up!” she growls. “I told you to listen.” She uses her heels to push me harder against her and I stop teasing her. “I hate that Simon adores you because you talk back to me. Worse, it means he’ll always have your back, and he’ll probably use you against me. If that wasn’t enough, he actually walked out because of you!” She arches her spine. “I hate that I have to grovel and eat every one of my damn words to get you to take this job. I hate that I still don’t want you to have it, because I know that letting you work here means I won’t have all the control. I hate that—” I pull my hands out from under hers and grab her thighs, adjusting her so she can feel me against her core. Her eyes flutter and shut in pleasure. She moans softly, biting her lip. “I hate—” she whispers, breathless “—that you feel so good and that you have this effect on me, and that I can’t be within three feet of you without wanting—” I swivel my hips and she bites my bottom lip, gasping, the cling of her mouth desperate.

  “Make me the offer,” I say when she releases me. “What are the hours? The pay?”

  Arie scrambles with her free hand to find the paperwork, her eyes hot and locked on me as I rock my hips slowly. She finds the papers and slaps them against my chest. “Simon says we should double whatever salary is in here.”

  “Is that so?” I take the paper and lay it out on the desk next to her. I pretend to read over her shoulder, leaning forward to get a closer look at the fine print, my hips pinning her back against the hard wood. “Do you approve of doubling my salary?” I ask, taking a pen and crossing off the amount.

  “Mmmmm? Uh…” Arie’s eyes are closed, hearing me but not looking at the paper. “Sure, whatever,” she agrees, not checking the amount I’m writing in, her hands sliding around to cup my ass.

  “I don’t know if you’re in the best state to be negotiating,” I tease, rocking against her advances.

  “Just sign the damn thing!” she growls, and I smile, loving how impatient and hot she gets.

  “Simon was right, you’re feisty!” I tease as she nips at my ear in response. “Still, you have to initial the changes first.” I pull back and put the papers against my chest, holding the pen next to the section with the salary changes. Arie grabs the pen, clicks it open and signs quickly. Then turns the pages to the end where I’m supposed to sign.

  “I’m going to be an absolute terror to work with,” she warns as I take the contract and lay her flat against Simon’s desk.

  “I think I know how to deal with your anger issues,” I say, putting the contract down next to her head. Her legs wrap around my waist and I lean all my weight into her, making her moan. I nibble right below her ear lobe. “You hear this?” I tease, clicking and un-clicking the pen. “That’s me about to sign your contract. You sure you want me to do this?” I rock my hips into her again and her thighs tighten. “Or do you want me to fuck you on Simon’s desk first?”

  “He’d kill you for doing that.”

  “Really?” I pull back slightly, looking right into her eyes. “But dry humping you and making you moan—” I thrust softly just to make her mouth drop open “—that’s totally fine?”

  “Would you sign already! Then I’ll show you my office.”

  “Oooh, the boss lady’s office,” I tease, turning the pen over and finding the line for my signature. “Do you have a nice big desk like this one? Or maybe a sturdy file cabinet?” I sign on the dotted line. “Or hey, maybe I could make good on that wall-banging promise.”

  I toss the pen aside and drown her in a kiss, all of my weight pressing her into Simon’s desk. She clutches me with her thighs, her hands, mewing tiny breaths of encouragement that tell me I should forget her office and take her right now.

  “You think that door is locked?” I ask as she reaches for my belt buckle. “Did you lock it? Or do you think he might walk in?” Her hand slides inside my boxers and over my cock. “Impatient, aren’t we?”

  “Haven’t you learned this about me yet?” She pants against my mouth, stroking me. I kiss her hard, well aware of her need as her fingers float over my length. I let her tease, matching her exploration with my tongue. She moves to pull me out but I back away, grabbing her wrist before she can expose me. Instead, I push my hand down over hers and grip her fingers and my cock together. She looks at me with her face and collarbone flushed, her lips swollen. God, I can’t imagine how great it would feel to have my cock slide between those lips.

  “Missed this, did you?” I say, stroking myself with her hand. “You realize, Arie, it hasn’t even been twelve hours, and your hands are already in my pants again?” She shrugs devilishly and I almost give in to her, but instead I give her hand a rough squeeze. “You better memorize the feel of me,” I say hotly. “Because here’s the problem. You’re my boss now.” I nod to the paper with my signature on it. “And I’m pretty sure this could be construed as sexual harassment.” I run her over my length again as her eyebrows knit. I toss her my Cheshire smile, then bite my lip just to show her how good her hand feels on me.

  “What are you talking about,” she asks, her grip loosening.

  “Arie,” I whisper, pulling her hand out of my pants. “You’re my boss. And as much as I like it, you can’t be touching my cock.”

  “I can’t what?” Her eyes go wide.

  I let go of her wrist and step back, taking in the image of her leaned back on the desk, her pencil skirt scrunched at her thighs, the visible triangle of her panties damp, her blouse disheveled and her chest heaving. I tilt my head to the side and nod in appreciation.

  “I’m not going to lie,” I say. “I’m definitely going to masturbate to the idea of fucking you on Simon’s desk. I’m just not going to actually do it.”

  Arie sits up, snapping her legs together. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s rude.”

  Arie’s eyes narrow, that anger and smolder coming back into her face.

  “Yeah,” I say, not letting her glare get to me. “I’m not going to fuck you in your office either. In fact, the entire restaurant should probably be off limits, don’t you think?”

  “Are you serious right now?”

  “Yes,” I nod. “You’re my boss. That’s what it says right there in black ink.” I point to the contract. “Fucking you before I s
igned that, totally kosher. But now that I’m an employee of your company? We should probably redefine our relationship and what exactly we’re doing?”

  “Uh, we’re not in a relationship,” she snaps. “And what you were about to do is—”

  “Yeah, I really don’t think you should say whatever it is you’re about to say out loud.” I give her a smirk that makes her face darken. “And yes, I totally understand our relationship.” I point to her. “Dominant.” Then I point back to me. “And subordinate. Boss, employee. I get it. Though, I’m not sure that’s your favorite setup …” I look at her below me on the desk, distinctly not in the “woman on top” position.

  Her face is red and furious; half of that is the dragon and the other half is her libido, both ready to punch me in the nuts for getting her this hot and then pulling such a stunt. My cock’s not happy either, but the rage on her face is worth the massive case of blue balls I’m going to have for the rest of the day.

  “Call Simon,” I instruct. “Tell him the deed is done.” I point to the paperwork to make sure she understands I mean that one. “My number’s under my name. Have him text me a copy of the contract and tell him I need three days before I can start.”

  “You think I’m going to give you three days off?” she hisses.

  “Well, you’ll probably need them to cool down.”

  “I’m going to kill you!”

  “Exactly my point,” I nod to her furious posture, backing up slightly. Her knuckles are white as she grips the sides of Simon’s desk, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she tore off a dagger of wood and stabbed me in the chest, vampire-hunter style. “I can’t work for you if I’m dead, so let’s give me those three days. Plus, I’m going to need them to set things straight with Mason. You know, break the news that I’m quitting without him busting my pretty face.”

  “I might bust your pretty face,” she snaps.

  “Possibly a good idea, since you can’t keep your hands off me.”

  Something flies for my head and I duck just in time for whatever it is to soar past my ear and smash against the wall behind me.