Delayed Call
Page 12
Not one bit.
Gasping for breath, Brie dropped her box and heard a crash inside it.
But she didn’t care.
What the hell just happened?
Looking around the living room of her new apartment, which was conveniently across the hall from her archnemesis, she pressed her hand to her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. All she could do was feel. Her hands were shaking, her chest was tight, and she felt like she was going to pass out. Her breath was out of control, though. She couldn’t catch it. Her body was on fire, and between her legs…the arousal down there was downright embarrassing. She had just gone three complete rounds with Vaughn Johansson, and she was pretty sure she had won.
And as a result, she was more turned on than she had ever been in her life.
She had no clue why. He was a jackass. Arrogant and rude! He didn’t respect her, and he sure as hell didn’t like her, yet he turned her on more than anyone else ever had in her life. She hadn’t talked to him outside of interviewing him, ever. They always kept their distance, sharing a general knowledge that they didn’t care for each other. But there was no ignoring each other in that hall. No, they had torn each other down over and over again, neither letting up, and it was mind-blowing. She had never done that a day in her life. She was usually very kind and loving, but Vaughn brought out a side of her that she didn’t even know she had.
Nor did she care for it, and she was truly freaked out.
And turned on.
Which was really, really humiliating.
Coming off the door, she went to the oversize chair and sat down, pressing her hand to her forehead. She needed to lie down, think, breathe, or something. Gasping for air, she shook her head as she looked at the ceiling of her apartment. It was beautiful, simply gorgeous, and praise God that she got a discount to live here because she wouldn’t have been able to afford it otherwise.
The condo was something out of a magazine with its floor-to-ceiling windows, classic white kitchen, and roomy bedrooms. Her bathroom had a spa tub, and she was pretty sure that her other apartment could fit inside of it. It was unbelievable, and she couldn’t wait to bring Rod over. He would love it. That is, if she didn’t kill Vaughn first and end up in jail.
Jesus, the anger! Where was that coming from?
Maybe she was sick? That was the only thing that could justify the fact that she had just ripped Vaughn’s balls off and tried to stuff them in his mouth. She was even mean to Jensen! Jensen was supernice, and she was a bitch. God, she was losing it. That had to be it. She had moved all through the night, she was worried sick about Rod and his heart issues, and she was plain tired. So fucking tired.
And horny. Really horny.
Jesus, she was the poster child for the hot-mess express.
Covering her face, she knew she had to apologize. To Jensen. Not Vaughn. Vaughn could suck her ass, that prick. Well, not really, since she hated him and all. But, jeez, how dare he be so mean? Yeah, she was mean, but that’s because he was all narcissistic and acting like he owned the damn building. He didn’t own shit, and she sure as hell didn’t have to answer to him. He was no one to her. And he would never be anything to her.
And why was her heart racing?
He was a douche canoe. He stood all cocky and full of himself with his designer jeans and thick pea coat that he had tucked a scarf into because it was colder than Antarctica outside. He was one of those super cleaned-up rich kids, and she hated those kinds of guys. The ones who thought their shit didn’t stink and people like her should pick up said shit and throw it away for them. Hell, he probably expected her to wipe his ass. She shouldn’t find the fact that he looked like a model who had stepped off the cover of GQ, with his shaved up the side dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, erotic or intriguing either. No, his personality ruined his good looks. But if that was the case, then why did she find him the sexiest man she had ever seen?
Ugh, she was pathetic, and her crush on Vaughn Johansson was borderline sadistic.
On one hand, she wanted to climb him like a tree, hang off his neck, and hump his chest. On the other hand, she wanted to use her size to her advantage and punch him in the dick. She didn’t like him, but man, she wanted to rock his world. Make him beg her for more and want her, though she knew that wouldn’t happen. They were cut from different cloths and in no way compatible. He also made her feel like she wasn’t stable, and she was. She was successful, she was smart, and she did everything to make sure her brother was loved and taken care of, so why was she lying on her chair in her new apartment questioning her sanity?
She needed to move.
But where was she going to find a luxury apartment six minutes from Rod in her price range?
The answer was nowhere.
She was stuck.
With Vaughn Johansson across the hall.
“Fuck. My. Life.”
Rubbing her hands down her face, she let out a moan before she yawned loudly. She could legit fall asleep, but she still had so much to bring in and, since she didn’t trust her fuckfaced neighbor, she should probably get up and do that. But the chair was so comfortable, and her love for sleep was a little passionate. It was just so wonderful, though, like being dead without the commitment of death.
At least, that was how she saw it.
Alas, she had to get up. Sucking in a breath, she let out a long exhale before slowly standing. She had to let this go. She had to be nice to Jensen and decent to Vaughn. They were her neighbors; she couldn’t go ripping heads off just because she wanted to screw the star hockey player who thought she was a joke. And really, what the hell was up with that? She was an amazing reporter, and it pissed her off that he questioned that. She’d show him.
Fucking asshole.
Growling and groaning as she brought her boxes in, she felt her frustration with the Assassins’ star grow and grow. What kind of man didn’t help a woman when she obviously needed it? Though, she should have hired someone. She’d just wanted to save money. It had seemed like a good idea, but at that moment, she was wishing she would have just blown the cash. Shaking her head, she set the last box down in her living room before slamming the door shut and leaning against it.
Now, she could sleep.
She was so excited, her heart jumping up in speed, but just as the thought came, her phone started to sound.
“Why?” she moaned out as she went on the mission of finding her phone. It took a good three rings before she found it in underneath a box and saw it was Rod. “Hey, you,” she said, out of breath, and he laughed.
Gasping for breath, Brie dropped her box and heard a crash inside it.
But she didn’t care.
What the hell just happened?
Looking around the living room of her new apartment, which was conveniently across the hall from her archnemesis, she pressed her hand to her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. All she could do was feel. Her hands were shaking, her chest was tight, and she felt like she was going to pass out. Her breath was out of control, though. She couldn’t catch it. Her body was on fire, and between her legs…the arousal down there was downright embarrassing. She had just gone three complete rounds with Vaughn Johansson, and she was pretty sure she had won.
And as a result, she was more turned on than she had ever been in her life.
She had no clue why. He was a jackass. Arrogant and rude! He didn’t respect her, and he sure as hell didn’t like her, yet he turned her on more than anyone else ever had in her life. She hadn’t talked to him outside of interviewing him, ever. They always kept their distance, sharing a general knowledge that they didn’t care for each other. But there was no ignoring each other in that hall. No, they had torn each other down over and over again, neither letting up, and it was mind-blowing. She had never done that a day in her life. She was usually very kind and loving, but Vaughn brought out a side of her that she didn’t even know she had.
Nor did she care for it, and she was truly freaked out.
And turned on.
Which was really, really humiliating.
Coming off the door, she went to the oversize chair and sat down, pressing her hand to her forehead. She needed to lie down, think, breathe, or something. Gasping for air, she shook her head as she looked at the ceiling of her apartment. It was beautiful, simply gorgeous, and praise God that she got a discount to live here because she wouldn’t have been able to afford it otherwise.
The condo was something out of a magazine with its floor-to-ceiling windows, classic white kitchen, and roomy bedrooms. Her bathroom had a spa tub, and she was pretty sure that her other apartment could fit inside of it. It was unbelievable, and she couldn’t wait to bring Rod over. He would love it. That is, if she didn’t kill Vaughn first and end up in jail.
Jesus, the anger! Where was that coming from?
Maybe she was sick? That was the only thing that could justify the fact that she had just ripped Vaughn’s balls off and tried to stuff them in his mouth. She was even mean to Jensen! Jensen was supernice, and she was a bitch. God, she was losing it. That had to be it. She had moved all through the night, she was worried sick about Rod and his heart issues, and she was plain tired. So fucking tired.
And horny. Really horny.
Jesus, she was the poster child for the hot-mess express.
Covering her face, she knew she had to apologize. To Jensen. Not Vaughn. Vaughn could suck her ass, that prick. Well, not really, since she hated him and all. But, jeez, how dare he be so mean? Yeah, she was mean, but that’s because he was all narcissistic and acting like he owned the damn building. He didn’t own shit, and she sure as hell didn’t have to answer to him. He was no one to her. And he would never be anything to her.
And why was her heart racing?
He was a douche canoe. He stood all cocky and full of himself with his designer jeans and thick pea coat that he had tucked a scarf into because it was colder than Antarctica outside. He was one of those super cleaned-up rich kids, and she hated those kinds of guys. The ones who thought their shit didn’t stink and people like her should pick up said shit and throw it away for them. Hell, he probably expected her to wipe his ass. She shouldn’t find the fact that he looked like a model who had stepped off the cover of GQ, with his shaved up the side dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, erotic or intriguing either. No, his personality ruined his good looks. But if that was the case, then why did she find him the sexiest man she had ever seen?
Ugh, she was pathetic, and her crush on Vaughn Johansson was borderline sadistic.
On one hand, she wanted to climb him like a tree, hang off his neck, and hump his chest. On the other hand, she wanted to use her size to her advantage and punch him in the dick. She didn’t like him, but man, she wanted to rock his world. Make him beg her for more and want her, though she knew that wouldn’t happen. They were cut from different cloths and in no way compatible. He also made her feel like she wasn’t stable, and she was. She was successful, she was smart, and she did everything to make sure her brother was loved and taken care of, so why was she lying on her chair in her new apartment questioning her sanity?
She needed to move.
But where was she going to find a luxury apartment six minutes from Rod in her price range?
The answer was nowhere.
She was stuck.
With Vaughn Johansson across the hall.
“Fuck. My. Life.”
Rubbing her hands down her face, she let out a moan before she yawned loudly. She could legit fall asleep, but she still had so much to bring in and, since she didn’t trust her fuckfaced neighbor, she should probably get up and do that. But the chair was so comfortable, and her love for sleep was a little passionate. It was just so wonderful, though, like being dead without the commitment of death.
At least, that was how she saw it.
Alas, she had to get up. Sucking in a breath, she let out a long exhale before slowly standing. She had to let this go. She had to be nice to Jensen and decent to Vaughn. They were her neighbors; she couldn’t go ripping heads off just because she wanted to screw the star hockey player who thought she was a joke. And really, what the hell was up with that? She was an amazing reporter, and it pissed her off that he questioned that. She’d show him.
Fucking asshole.
Growling and groaning as she brought her boxes in, she felt her frustration with the Assassins’ star grow and grow. What kind of man didn’t help a woman when she obviously needed it? Though, she should have hired someone. She’d just wanted to save money. It had seemed like a good idea, but at that moment, she was wishing she would have just blown the cash. Shaking her head, she set the last box down in her living room before slamming the door shut and leaning against it.
Now, she could sleep.
She was so excited, her heart jumping up in speed, but just as the thought came, her phone started to sound.
“Why?” she moaned out as she went on the mission of finding her phone. It took a good three rings before she found it in underneath a box and saw it was Rod. “Hey, you,” she said, out of breath, and he laughed.
