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“If it was a one-night stand, why are you here?” she flared. She stood, palms pressed flat to the desk, leaning on her hands and meeting his eyes with a cold, accusatory frankness that snapped at the edges with simmering anger. “You know what I think? I think you’re afraid you fucked up. You came back to make sure I’d keep our night together quiet. Or maybe you think you made me so angry I won’t sign the contract and you’re here to make sure you earn your commission.”
He said nothing. She glared at him. He let her. Let her be as angry as she wanted because he was starting to understand why. She doubted his motivation behind last night and was striking out at him before he could hurt her.
In the silence between them, he stepped closer to the desk and braced his hands against it, facing her eye to eye. Somewhat. She carried herself with such presence that until she had been writhing, small and voluptuous beneath him, it was hard to remember how much shorter than him she was. So short she was forced to tip her head back if she wanted to keep glaring at him.
She did.
“Did you ever stop to think I’m here for you?” he asked. His gaze dropped to her mouth. It was still plump, lush, ripe—red from what he’d done to her lips last night. Desire nipped at him with persistent little teeth. “I want to do it again.”
Her eyes widened. She faltered and leaned back, straightening. “What?”
“If I want you to be honest, I suppose I have to give, too.” Thomas shifted to prop his hip on the desk, half sitting on the edge. “Look, I don’t know what I was thinking yesterday. But I do know that I don’t want to only have you once. I don’t want a one-night stand with you. I want more.” It felt oddly freeing to say that. Liberating. Especially since he hadn’t wanted more from another woman since Nicole. “I want you, Brianna. All of you.”
She shook her head slowly. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, Thomas.”
“I mean every single word. I am legitimately, genuinely attracted to you, and I can’t seem to get that through your little skull.” He ran his hands down his face, scrubbing his gritty eyes. “The question is, do you feel the same, or am I slamming my head against the wall for no reason?”
“I…I don’t know.”
His heart cracked. That’s what he got for putting himself out on the line. Idiot. “I’m willing to give you time to consider it. Or I’ll leave right now, if you’d rather, and never bother you again.”
“Oh.”
That was it. Oh. He’d learned years ago that honesty got him nowhere, but he’d tried—and he wasn’t letting her get away that easily.
She settled primly back into her chair, avoiding eye contact. He snatched the pen right from between her pretty little fingers; she gasped, her furious flush blooming down her delicate throat.
“Your turn,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“I asked you why you ran out.” He shifted on his feet, hating himself for asking this next question but unable to stop. “Was I that bad? Did I hurt you or something?”
She clenched her teeth. “No.”
“Then why? Business ethics? Forgot your hair appointment? House on fi—?”
“I was embarrassed!” she snapped, her voice hitching. She slapped her hand against the desk hard enough to make her pencil cup bounce. “I told you. I don’t normally do that. It was humiliating.”
“There is absolutely no reason to be humiliated by what happened last night.” He captured her hand and turned it over. Her palm was reddened from the force of her slap. Gently, he traced the tip of his thumb across her lifeline; her breath caught, and her fingers curled. Even holding her hand caused a rush of happiness and possessiveness to pump through his blood. He knew then that what he was about to say wasn’t true. It was what she needed to hear, but it was a big fat lie. For the first time since Nicole…he’d opened himself up to a woman. With Brianna, it was more than sex. And the thought both terrified him and exhilarated him at the same time. The conflicting emotions fighting within him made the room spin. “We’re adults, Brianna. Sometimes two adults like each other and decide to have sex. It’s just sex.”
“I know that,” she murmured. “But I’m not most people.”
He glanced up from her hand and caught her eye. Even if she was still flustered, still blushing, a hint of a smile played at her lips, barely there.
“ I know.” He shifted his grip on her fingers until his hand fully enfolded hers. “I like that about you.”
She dropped her gaze to their entwined hands and cleared her throat. “It wasn’t just that we— I mean, we were in the parking lot, then the elevator, and up against the door…” She let out a groan and dropped her face into her free hand. “Oh God.”
She shouldn’t do that. Whenever she turned shy, it only made him want to push her more, tease her, make her blush as deeply as she had when her legs were wrapped around his waist and she was tearing at his hair. “And you’re used to strictly missionary, is that it?”
“Something like that…” she mumbled through her fingers.
He leaned forward and carefully pried her fingers away from her face so he could meet her eyes. “Do you ever shut off?”
“Yes. No.” Her gaze darted to the side. “Maybe.”
“That’s a no, then.” He tucked a stray wisp of her hair behind her ear. “Bree.” Her eyes widened, and she stared at him. He teased the lock of hair against her cheek. “I get it. I do. I’ve worked with dozens of successful businesswomen— Ah.” He caught her before her mouth could do more than open, raising a hand to forestall the sardonic anger in her flashing eyes. “Don’t give me that look. I didn’t sleep with a single one of them. But I know how it is. I know how you have to always be on your guard. But after hours, it’s all right to let go and be a woman. Just as I let go to be a man. My suit and tie aren’t all that I am. That marketing asshole smile? I practice it in the mirror. I hate it.”
