Bad Boss (Unprofessional Bad Boys Book 2) by Clarissa Wild

Author:Clarissa Wild [Wild, Clarissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-07-19T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

TJ

“TJ Morrows!”

She isn’t just calling out for me.

Her voice is like spit fire from a dragon, burning my house down.

I drop everything and rush up the stairs to find her throwing panties out of a drawer I didn’t think she’d be looking through because I never said she could.

When she rises to her feet, holding a specific pair of pink see-through panties, I freeze.

Oh, boy.

“Exactly why do you have my panties in your drawers?”

She asks the question, but I’m much, much more focused on the fact that she’s still looking at them. Her voice is filled with an underlying hate, yet it’s so calm it sends chills down my spine.

“I can explain everything …” I say softly, trying to ease the situation before it gets out of hand. “If you let me—”

“Explain this.” She holds them up by one finger, still not looking at me.

“I …” I frown, my voice lowering as I realize it’s no use to deny it. “You know exactly how I got those.”

“You didn’t get them the night we slept together,” she says.

“No,” I reply.

“You got them off the internet.”

I swallow away the lump in my throat. “Yes.”

Again, it’s quiet for some time. Murderously quiet. And it freaks me the fuck out.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I should’ve told you that—”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” she interrupts. “Just answer my questions.”

“All right …” I sigh.

“You bought these from me. You’re pantysniffer3000?”

God, I knew I should’ve picked a better name. It sounds so wrong when she says it out loud. “Yes.”

Every time I admit something, it feels like I’m gutting myself, but a weight lifts off my shoulders too. It’s a strange combination that I’m not sure works well.

“And all these other panties?”

“I bought them too. I don’t steal.” As if saying I’m not a criminal makes it any better. Fuck, I’m so stupid sometimes.

She spins on her heels, clutching her panties. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t get to say that.”

“But I am,” I say. “I never wanted you to find out like this.”

“Yeah, well, you did a great job of hiding it.” The look of disgust on her face makes me so mad that I lash out.

“I didn’t expect you to go through my drawers like some raccoon looking for kitty kibbles,” I growl. “Who does that anyway?”

“Did you just compare me to a raccoon?” She folds her arms, still holding those pink panties I love so much. “And everyone would. You went through my kitchen cabinets too.”

“So?” I gasp. “That’s different.”

“No, it’s not,” she retorts.

“Yes, it is. Closets are sacred. There’s an unwritten rule that no one opens them unless told specifically which drawer.”

“According to whose rules?” She narrows her eyes. “Yours?”

My lips part, but I don’t know what to say. Instead, I just frown and blow out some air. “Look, I said I was sorry.”

“And I should just accept that?”

“Why not?”

“Because everything gets solved by saying sorry? Fuck no.” She scowls at me. “You’re despicable.”

“Thanks,” I say, closing my eyes.

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