Six

"Go on to the guest bedroom, Dexter. You'll find yourself a change of clothes in there. I won't have you looking like you're in a meeting in my house," his grandmother ground out as soon as she saw his dress-code.

He scanned his pristine white shirt and the tailored black pants he had on and frowned. What did having breakfast with her have anything to do with his attire?

"All this frowning is a total waste of time. Go on now," she literally shooed him away. He blinked at that action. She was the only woman who had the guts to do something like that. The rest knew better.

Not up to arguing with his Grandmother so early in the morning, he glided up the stairs both hands tucked in his pockets. He opened the door softly, looked up and stared at the sight in front of him.

"Oh! Mrs Hally, I can't seem to find the body towels," the naked woman in front of him spoke out.

Probably because she got no response from Mrs Hally, he watched her turn and freeze. She was endowed he thought. Her full, rounded and bare breasts stood out and as his eyes traced the rest of her body, something that annoyingly felt like male approval spasmed through his mind.

Suddenly, she jumped and covered herself. Well, at least attempted to. Despite her efforts, he could still very much outline her every edge.

He could almost see the wheels in her head turning as she stood before him. Her eyes seemed to reach anywhere else but at him and that annoyed him a great deal. Maybe because he was a man who liked to be looked at in the eyes when he confronted someone. 

Finally, he got a glimpse at her face. This had to be some sick joke, he thought. It was the same woman from yesterday. First, he finds her standing on his chair. Now, naked?

This woman had to be working with someone who knew about what he did and when. How else could he explain these two odd incidents? He never met his workers but somehow, this woman had managed to surpass that. He clenched his jaw, very much annoyed.

He was staring holes in her face when he finally heard her speak. Make that try to.

"W-who are you?" He kept quiet at that. He was who was and he didn't feel in the mood to entertain this woman that he was sure had an agenda.

"I-I mean what're y-you doing here?" She stuttered. The woman couldn't seem to voice her sentences straight. He really had to hand it to her. She was good. Acting all vulnerable, like her intentions were completely pure.

"I should be asking you that," he grunted, to which he saw her flinch. Too bad he wasn't one to buy into emotions.

"I'm s-sorry Sir, but if you could just please turn around, I'll wear my clothes," he could hear the anger in her voice, brewing just below the surface, despite her attempt to sound calm. 

Did the woman know that her face was like plethora of emotions. Whatever she felt, it showed on her face. He wondered what her face would look like when he made love to her.

Blaming that thought on his traitorous hormones, he shook it away and buried it. He did not have sexual relations with his workers.

Ignoring her earlier plea, he set about to finding the the actual reason behind her being here.

"What're you doing here?" It was a question that left no room for negotiations of any kind.

"You're the one who walked in on me naked!" She exclaimed loudly. 

What did this woman take him for? Some sick, perverted bastard who walked in on naked women? Dexter Black had hot and willing women coming and going and here she was insinuating that he was a pervert.

Narrowing his eyes, he thought two can play.

"Is it?" He taunted her. "Or are you not the one who was waiting for me to come and find you in this...state," he eyed her with disgust, a final kick to her esteem. 

Something that looked like disbelief crossed over her face. She seemed to be processing it in her head and just when he thought that she was going to say something equally coy to him, she sighed in defeat.

She seemed to be in a trance as she grabbed her clothes, that he now realised had been packed neatly on the bed. She walked towards him and past him like a breeze.

Somehow that set him off. He couldn't explain what came over him but next him he had her pinned on the wall. He didn't like it when people walked away from him, he told himself.

She looked at him with those big eyes in shock. He breathed heavily in her face that was so close to his, if he inched closer he could kiss those pouty lips.

"Nobody walks out on me."

He watched as her facial expression went from shocked to angry so quickly, he was not prepared for her outburst.

"Who the hell do you think you are, you bastard? I asked you sooooo nicely to respect my privacy but you're so ignorant you wouldn't know respect if it hit you in the face. Move! I said..."

She looked so fired up. Like a little spit-fire. He watched her go on and on about how he thought he could do whatever he wanted because he was rich. Dexter wanted to tell her that she was indeed right but he couldn't exactly point that out as she didn't give him the chance to. What with all her heated ranting.

And against his better judgement, it turned him on. So, he did the first thing he could think of in order to shut her up.

He held her face in his hands and slammed his lips against her own. She stilled and when she gasped, he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth.

She tried to push him away at the invasion but he held on and moved his tongue in her mouth, teasing her own until he felt her respond. She held onto his shirt, fisting it as if to get closer to him. 

He punished her in that one kiss. There was nothing soft and slow about it. It was all wild and angry. He bit and took her bottom lip into his mouth, sucking and biting on it a little before once again plunging his tongue into her mouth as if he couldn't get enough of her taste.

He groaned when he felt her respond with the same fire that he felt coursing through his blood. It felt like time was at a standstill and he couldn't bring himself to stop. 

Suddenly, she pushed him with all her might and before he could predict her intentions, she had slapped him. Hard. Panting, her hair all over the place, she picked up her clothes and rushed out in all her naked glory.

Flexing his jaw, he smirked. That was a good one he thought. And he hated to admit it but she just became a whole lot interesting. Like the arrogant and prideful man he was, he tucked his hands in his hands and walked towards the closet, consequently devising a plan of his own.