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I didn’t know which one of us moved first. Whether he grabbed my waist, or I seized his shirt. Whether he pulled me to him, or I yanked him to me.
We collided like two dying stars, our mouths crashing into each other with hungry desperation as everything exploded. My body was burning from the inside out, my limbs vibrating as Adrien backed me up to the wall, his hard length pressing into my stomach.
Finally.
Finally.
I shouldn’t have wanted this. I shouldn’t have whimpered when he pinned me to the wall, or when his tongue shoved into my mouth. I should have pushed him away when he fisted my hair and bit my bottom lip. I should have hated the way my returned bite easily pulled a groan from the pit of his throat. I should have hated the way he felt and tasted.
But holy hell was it a good kiss.
So much so that it started to become confusing. Somewhere along the way, things… shifted. We went from overly frustrated grabbing and biting and clawing to something else entirely. Something a hell of a lot more alarming.
Our tongues stopped shoving, pushing, fighting. And gradually started to explore, nudge, caress. The rough bites turned to gentler nibbles; grabs turned to brushes and strokes; the violent boil in my blood fizzled to warm, tingling sparks, and it… it…
Wow.
I sighed against him, my arms sliding around his neck as we melted into each other, entirely helpless against whatever sorcery had taken over. Adrien let go of my hair, but only so he could cup my jaw, tilt and stroke it as he nibbled at my bottom lip, my chin, jaw, neck, andoh…
Wow.
He grazed his teeth across the sensitive dip between my neck and shoulder, kissing and licking my skin until I was a whimpering, trembling mess. My fingers dug into his shoulder and hair, my breathing labored as the heat pooling in my core threatened to spill over. I was sizzling, buzzing, panting, clinging onto him like my life depended on it.
It felt incredible. He was barely even doing anything, and yet it feltincredible.
I almost whined when he peeled his lips away from my skin, my fingers clawing at his shoulders, trying to pull him back down. But he wouldn’t budge.
“No more,” he panted, his voice rough and grating, almost like he was in pain. He tapped his forehead against mine as we both fought for breath. “No more of whatever… fucked up game this is. I can’t… you’re so deep in my head that I can’t… I can’t fuckingthinkanymore, Sanchez. I can’t sleep… I spent all night…” He shook his head. “I’m not doing this anymore.”
I barely knew what he was talking about. What game?
“I’m going to give you two options,” he said. His hands were on my waist, preventing our bodies from colliding again. “I’m leaving for a meeting in ten minutes, and I’ll be gone until the evening. When I come back, you won’t be here.”
Wait. Wait…what.
I tried to take a step back, but his hold on my waist tightened, keeping me in place.
“That’s option one,” he went on. “I book you a flight, you pack, you leave, and we never see each other again. I’ll keep my end of the deal with Alba. I’ll rehire her, double her maternity compensation, reduce her workload, all of it. But I never want to ever see you again.”
The bitterness in his voice as he repeated the last bit was so palpable, I could almost taste it. It curdled in my ears and sent an unexpected stab through me.
The feeling’s mutual, asshole, I wanted to spit back at him.
So why didn’t I?
“Option number two.” He paused, his eyes searching mine. “You stay. Willingly. And we continue to play.” His thumb brushed my hip, his gaze dipping down to my mouth. “But with new rules. You can run your smart mouth all you want, throw your punches, pick fights, continue to torment me however you see fit… but I get to respond howIsee fit.”
The look he gave me left very little room for interpretation. And if it had, the way he pressed our hips together would have cleared things right up.
I opened my mouth to pick the first option—becauseobviouslyI was going to pick the first option—but I stopped.
Why did I stop?
“Your flight details will be in your inbox within the hour, and I’ll arrange for a car to pick you up at a tea shop down the road,” he said quietly. “I’ll be back around eight.”
His fingers seemed to hesitate and linger for a moment longer than was necessary, but then he let me go.
“Think about it.”
