Bethany looked up from the pile of papers in front of her as Kent spoke. Her soon-to-be stepfather stood at the head of a long cherrywood executive-length table, his brow contorted.

"I'm not sure how this happened. Why the hell aren't the numbers tying out? Zarpeth is one of our largest clients, and I know we sent a really strong senior associate to count their inventory." He sighed and pulled the chair back, slumping down in it.

Something inside of her wanted to do anything to make things right. She simply didn't have the experience. Just being out of school and headed back for her master’s soon, she lacked on-the-job experience.

"What can I do?" Bethany leaned back in her chair and slipped her hands into her lap as her phone buzzed.

"Call your brother, and tell him to get here." Kent sighed again and ran his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair.

His word stung without him knowing it. His reference to Damon being her brother left a mark on her. The reality that she had just fucked him in the shower flooded her subconscious with shame. How would they ever work? Her mother was marrying his father, and they were going to what? Fall happily ever after in love?

She picked up her phone and answered it; Damon's name popping up and causing her heart to almost stop in her chest.

"Hey."

"How is it going?" His voice was so deep and sexy, scratchy from obviously just waking up.

It was after two in the afternoon, but he and Kent had pulled an all-nighter the night before. He had stumbled into the shower with her, taking her fast and hard and falling asleep in the bed like a little boy, so worn out.

"It's not going too great. Kent is asking for you." Bethany breathed in sharply, sitting up and moving some of the papers in front of her. "I've recounted the inventory a few times, and it's more than obvious the issue isn't with the calculation but with the count that was taken."

Damon let out a sigh that set her on edge. Was he put off by the fact that she couldn't figure the mammoth problem out on her own?

"All right. Tell my father to hang tight, and I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Ask him if he needs a coffee." His voice was tight and all business. The sound of it caused her stomach to hurt. Where was the man that had whispered his pleasure against her wet skin in the steamy shower?

"Damon wants to know if you need a coffee." Bethany moved the phone from her mouth and looked up at Kent.

"No. I just need him to stop napping and get his ass here." Kent leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and pressing his palms to his face.

"He needs ..." Bethany started but was cut off by the sharp agitation in Damon's voice.

"I heard him. I'm on my way." He hung up without another word. No asking if she wanted a coffee or if she was doing okay. No “See you soon” or “Missed you when I woke up.”

Asshole.

Kent got up a few minutes later and walked out of the small conference room as Bethany stood and moved to the window, pressing her hand against it and fighting back tears.

Had she imagined the softness of their morning after the sex? Had she made Damon into someone he wasn't? Memories assaulted her.

"Come lie in bed, and I'll take good care of you."

"That's all I've wanted since we met." He smiled and reached for her.

He had admitted to not having sex in a long time. Not because he was too busy or because he didn't physically need the release.

"I haven't found one I was willing to make love to in ... longer than I can remember."

Tears threatened to roll over onto her cheeks, leaving her looking like the lovesick child she was. She wiped at them angrily, trying hard to push away her feelings of inadequacy. He was tired, and the proverbial shit was hitting the fan. Of course, he was coarse and rough with her. He wasn't being unreasonable; she just realized that she needed more—no, expected more—from him.

"See something of interest?" His voice caught her off guard. She smoothed down the front of her black jacket, the dress under it striped with black and white. His eyes remained on her face, his mood sour, his expression pinched. He was tired, but damn him for not giving her anything to show that he felt something from their earlier interactions.

"Just trying to figure this out and be helpful." She gave him a slight smile and walked back toward the table.

"Yes, well, you're just out of college. I didn't expect you to offer assistance. You're here to learn, so watch as I figure this out." His voice was deadpan, as if she were as interesting as watching the clock on the wall tick second by second.

She swallowed her emotions and simply nodded, moving to stand beside him.

"The inventory was taken in April, and again in July, which are around the times it should be taken, but one was taken before the early morning shipments they receive and one after. They need to be consistent. Simply call the warehouse in Tampa and have them email you the receipts for the July early morning shipment. Reconcile the numbers, and this problem should be solved." He looked up and touched his finger to the side of his temple. "You have to actually use common sense if you plan to get anywhere in this big world. It isn't genius we're looking for."

"Are you saying I should have been able to figure that out?" Bethany took a step back, his reaction to her ignorance astounding and hateful.

He looked up and lifted his eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth. "Are you getting offended at me trying to make you a better accountant?"

"You're not trying to make me better. You're pinpointing my lack of common sense. That's not something you learn in accounting classes." She put her hands on her hips as heat rose up her chest and coated her throat. "And your tone is starting to get on my nerves. If you want to coach me to understand the details of shipment times at the client's warehouse, that's fine, but talking to me like I'm a dumbass because you know how things run at the Tampa plant and I don't isn't coaching."

He let out a long breath. "I understand that you think we should be holding hands and smiling at each other after this morning, but I'm not interested in a relationship. If you're not willing to be a woman who’s worth my time, then you probably need to let me know that now. Save us some time."

Bethany took another step back as a large ball of regret pressed into her throat, the room seeming hot all of a sudden. She wasn't even sure how to react, so she didn't. She dropped the paper she had picked up and walked toward the door. Damon's hand on her wrist stopped her. She turned back and pinned him with expressionless resolve.

"I'm not like every other man, Bethany. You're not allowed to leave your mark on me. I'm here for sex, and if you are too, great, but if not ..."

"Fuck you," she whispered and smiled as if he didn't matter. She needed him not to, but he did far too much.

Pulling from his grasp, she walked through the small door, the hall seeming to close in on her. She didn't stop until she got back to the hotel, the room ice cold from leaving the AC on too long. She lay down on her bed, rolling up in the covers and regretting it immediately. It smelled like Damon, the deep musky tones rushing into her nose and over her tongue as she groaned.

They couldn't be a couple anyway, could they?

He was her fucking brother. No way would they be able to figure things out. It was too complicated.

So was sex enough? Could she just enjoy the feel of his hands on her, the taste of his tongue, the deep thrust of his body into hers? She groaned again, her nipples budding at the very thought.

She was lost to the idea of being beneath him as much as possible, but was that simply because she loved him? If there was no love there, how could the emotion be so damned strong?

Her phone buzzed.

Damon.

"Bethany." She answered it very professionally, hating herself, hating him ... hating every-fucking-thing.

"Kent and I are headed out of the office. Feel free to do whatever it is that you women do when you're pissed. I should be back later tonight, but if not, I'll be in the lobby at ten tomorrow morning, and we'll head home."

"Is there something you guys need me to do while you're out?" she asked, her heart breaking over and over at his dismissal of her. She was smart and brilliant, and this cock of a man was trying to tear her down.

"Nope. Just enjoy yourself. I'll take notes today, and you can read them tomorrow on the plane while I sleep. I'm sure I have another all-nighter."

"Let me know if you change your mind." She hung up this time as a hopeful “Fuck you” through the phone.

Tossing the thing halfway across the room, she let herself cry into the soft white pillow beneath her. She wasn't going to win the battle by being bitchy and fighting him with her own ammo. Having not been in more than one real relationship her adult life, she was way out of her league. The one thing she did have that he wanted, and he had admitted it, was her body.

If he were willing to use his as a weapon against her, perhaps it was time for her to return the favor.

Bethany turned over in the bed, her long hair splayed out all over the place, her makeup running into her eyes as they burned. He was a bastard, and yet she knew so much more sat just underneath the perfectly constructed facade that was Damon Bryant.

Sex would be the tool, the only means she had of breaking him down. She wanted to know the man underneath, yearned for his time and attention. She would use herself and stick to the rule he had laid down for her a few minutes ago. She was most certainly going to brand herself all over him, but he wasn't going to get any further into her heart.

She would wedge herself so far into his thoughts, into his desires, that he begged for her time, for her attention, for her sex.

She wiped at her tears once more, her resolve setting into place. She hated to be a bitch and play dirty, but Damon left her no choice.

Getting up, she walked to the small lounge chair in the room and texted Philip.

Bethany: I enjoyed coffee the other day. We should do it again.

Philip: Me too. How about today? Lunch or dinner with me?

Bethany: How about on Wednesday you come up and have lunch with me at work.

Philip: Not sure that would be okay with them.

Bethany: They can't tell me who I can eat with, right?

Philip: This is true, and the dick can't fire me... he already did. LOL

She smiled, unable to help herself. Hurting Philip wasn't on her laundry list of things to do, but getting him to help her break Damon in half, now that very much was, and it reigned supreme.