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“You’re like a damn—” Punch. “Wall.” Her form is perfect on the last jab.
“Good girl,” I say again, without thinking.
“You are the worst.” She punctuates every word with a thump of her glove on the pad. She’s annoyed now. Annoyed and slightly flushed.
“Harder.”
“I’m trying. I hate you.” She goes for another cross, but she stumbles and the momentum carries her into me. My back hits the wall. Her soft hip meets my groin, her hand punches the concrete behind me. I groan. She freezes. I let my arms fall to my sides, and the pads drop from my hands.
“Are you hurt?” I skim my fingers down her arms and her hands. Silky soft skin, no sign of injury. My pulse slows. “Punching a wall is no joke. You can break a hand like that.”
“I’m fine. Sorry.” Her forehead is pressed into my chest, and she sighs. “I just need a minute.” She rests her head on my chest, and my body responds. Shit.
She shifts, her hip rubbing indecently against my hardening erection, and I grab her waist.
“Don’t move.” My voice comes out pained. Every brush of her body against mine is like taking a shot of whiskey. My cock is rising in my shorts, and oh, fuck. She shifts against me, and I tighten my grip. “Thompson.” I say the words through gritted teeth.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She leans back, presses herself fully against me. Soft breasts to my hard chest. “Jonah? I asked— oh.” She’s looked down then.
“Yes. Oh. I need you to step away very carefully, okay?”
“Why?” she whispers. Her face is tipped up to mine, trusting, the heart shape of her high cheekbones and her rounded cheeks making her impossibly lovely.
“I can’t be this close to you.”
“Oh.” She sucks in a breath. “You hate me that much?”
I laugh softly. “No, Thompson. I don’t hate you.” I can’t look at her. If I look at her, I’m going to kiss her. I don’t kiss, but I’ve never wanted to break a rule more.
“What do you mean?” she whispers. “Look at me.”
I groan and look down. I can’t resist her. She’s so pretty. Everything I want. “I’ve been trying so hard,” I mutter, almost to myself. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Do you know how difficult it is every day?”
Her lips curve. “Probably about as hard as it is for me.”
“You did not just say that.” She can’t say that, because that means she wants me too, and that means… I can’t go there. My breaths seize in my chest, my heart thudding like a bass drum in my ears. I’m turned on and confused, and fuck. I want her.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I’m your boss.” I lower my head. Her hands land on my chest. She digs her short nails into my chest muscles, and my stomach tightens. “I can’t.” I murmur the words into her ear, loving how she shivers in response. “We can’t.” She smells so good, and her skin looks so soft and delicious. “Just one taste,” I murmur. My lips hover over the pulse point of her neck. “One taste, okay? And then we stop.”
“Please,” she whispers.
The word is my undoing.
27
Callie
Jonah’s lips make contact with my neck, and desire floods me in a rush. He groans like kissing my skin is his holy grail. His lips are soft, seeking. His breath is damp and warm. I press closer on a shudder and tilt my head to give him more access. Just one taste. If all we get is this, I don’t want it to end. He tugs my ponytail out and spears his hand into my hair, tangling the strands, wrapping them around his hand.
He’s sucking lightly on my skin, and it’s lighting me up. Sparks dance behind my eyes, and I melt into his chest.
“Good girl,” he mutters. The words are gas on an open flame. When he said them earlier, I didn’t understand why they turned me on so much. I’m not going to question it. I’m just going to go with it.
He tilts my head to the other side, but doesn’t kiss me. I dig my nails into his chest, forcing a soft laugh from him.
“Impatient, Thompson?”
