Three feet.“I wasn’t supposed to be here!I was never meant to hear the pitches!”
“And you just happened to stroll into mine?What a miraculous coincidence.”
“I knew you’d be in one of them, and if I could figure you out—”
“See!”Two feet.“You were here for me!”
“Did you hear me denying it?”A foot.“Yeah, I am here for you.So the fuck what?”
“No swearing.”
Another step.“We’re not in a Huddle booth now, Radley.”
No booth meant no rules, no boundaries.How had they got closer?So close she could feel the huff of his shallow breaths fogging her hair.The heat of those dark eyes narrowed on her.Hotshot.Holy fuck, Hotshot was right in front of her.
“No.”
“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he snapped.
“No rules?”
“None.”
“Freedom, huh?What you going to do with it, Mr.Bigshot?”
Their mouths clashed.Frantic.Angry.Charged.Lunging forward and down, he scooped her off the floor to rush her against the wall.Her back hit hard, but she didn’t care about tomorrow’s bruises.Panting breaths.Heat.Aggravation.Passion.Her arms were already around his neck, coiling around his head, forcing his kiss deeper as she pushed his invading tongue back.Their mouths had fought for months, over a year, they were old friends, old enemies.
The bastard wasn’t going to win.Wasn’t going to dominate.Not her.Fighting back was her style.And not just in debate.
Slanting her mouth, she tasted more, taking what she wanted.Needling.Baiting.Goading.He wanted this.Wanted her.Did he think she’d just surrender?
Toeing off her shoes, the ferocious kiss fueled a burning need that wouldn’t be satisfied by this feeble effort.The searing desire had to be quenched.To be fulfilled.Shoving his jacket from his shoulders, her message spurred him to spin away from the wall, knocking over the nightstand lamp as he dropped them onto the bed.
His palm skimmed her outer thigh, ascending to push her skirt up, caressing all the way to her hip.Damn, he was good.Zinging needles of aching need followed those fingertips until his lips diverted her focus by trailing down her throat.Her rebellious body arched against his domineering force.Fuck him.Fuck.Fuck.Shit.
Control, she needed it, and he wouldn’t expect timid.Screw that.Somehow, she found his tie and wrapped it round and round her knuckles to pull him up again.Her mouth wanted his, wanted more of what he’d started.He didn’t resist but fought for dominance.
No, she wouldn’t.Give in to him?Play it meek?Did he remember who she was?She wasn’t one of his weak starlets.Wasn’t a woman who needed to be taken care of or given handouts.She’d take anything, any way she wanted it.
Just as quick as he gave his kiss, he snatched it away.Planting his hands on the bed on either side of her head, he stared down at her.Not mad.Not arrogant.Not teasing or… The genuine shock blazing from him kicked hers into gear.
What the hell were they doing?The chance of salvaging their friendship would drop to nil if they got physical… more physical.
Her jaw moved because it felt like she should say something, but… what?Ask him to leave?Demand he leave?Apologize?
Boosting himself from above her, he didn’t linger and went for the door.She was still lying on the bed when it closed.Hotshot… What the hell was that?
FIVE
THE NEXT TIME the door opened, she was the one with the handle.Someone had knocked.Again, she expected Helena.Instead, it was Franco.Suited, looking dapper.
She smiled at his slow perusal of her body.
“Wow, and I thought I’d need to persuade you,” he said.
“Why would I miss the welcome dinner?”she asked, stroking her hair from behind to bring it forward over her shoulder.
“Helena said she told you to stay put.”
