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With a smirk, I closed my hand around it and pulled it from her grip. It clattered to the floor, bouncing a few times before settling against a stack of tires.
“I don’t have a weapon,” she said, looking at her empty hand. “This is workplace harassment.”
“Your skirt is workplace harassment. Admit you wore it on purpose and I might—might—leave you alone.”
She swallowed, tilting her head up. “Fine. I admit it. I own about twenty pairs of denim shorts. I wore it on purpose.”
“Because you’re annoyed that you offered yourself to me on a silver platter and I threw you off the table?”
She met my eyes, and with more than a hint of amusement in them, said, “No. I thought it would be fun to see how you coped knowing you can look, but you decided not to touch.”
I gripped the top of the toolbox and dipped my head. “I reserve the right to change my mind at any point.”
Her tongue flicked out and wet her lips once more. “I don’t think you do.”
“What would you do if I touched you right now?”
“Right now? Push you away.”
“Really? If I tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed your neck? What if I ran my fingertips up your thigh and gripped your ass? Would you push me away then?”
“I mean…” She paused. “I guess.” She paused again. “Yes.”
“You don’t sound so certain there, darlin’.”
“I’m not,” she breathed.
I took my chance.
I dipped my head, cupped the back of her neck, and I fucking kissed her.
She grabbed my shirt, pulling me close into her, and flicked her tongue against my lower lip. A bolt of desire shot through me at that tiny movement, and I flattened my body against hers, pushing her right against the toolbox.
She squeaked. “Ouch. Drawers!”
I laughed, pulling her away from it, and swept her around the side of it instead. The metal clanged as her back went into it, and she bit her lip to stop herself grinning as I boxed her against it.
“Still unsure?” I asked.
She nodded.
So I kissed her again.
Chapter Twenty-One – Jamie
His thumbs were rough against my cheeks as he cupped my face. I slid my hands up his body between us to do the same to his neck and pushed myself against him.
I knew this was beyond the line, and I didn’t care. He’d crossed it yesterday when he’d said what he had, and yes, I had worn this skirt deliberately. I didn’t even care.
I wanted to be friends.
If he didn’t want that, I’d show him what he did want.
Me.
Dex flattened me against the side of the toolbox. His tongue battled against mine as his fingers slid into my ponytail and pulled out the hair tie. It fell somewhere to the floor, and I whimpered at the loss of today’s hair restraint.
His chuckle against my lips sent shivers over my skin. I gripped him even tighter, and he dropped one hand to my bare thigh. His cock was hard against me, and my heart was beating crazy fast, but that didn’t take away the sensation of his roughened fingertips gliding up my thigh.
Goosebumps.
I was covered in goosebumps. They trickled up and down my skin, sending shivers across me as they did so.
But there was just Dex. His tongue against mine, his fingers probing my skin. My fingers digging into his neck, the feel of his tiny stubble rubbing against my chin.
He grabbed my thighs and lifted me. I gasped, gripping the sides of the toolbox as he hooked my legs over his hips and grabbed my ass. My arms wound around his neck, and the kiss deepened to the point I could barely breathe.
I felt him everywhere. All over me. He danced across my skin and he pumped through my veins.
Like a drug, but better.
Addictive, just as wrong, but still so much righter.
My hips pushed against his. My clit rubbed his hard cock, and his deft thumbs hiked my skirt up over my hips.
I didn’t care. The adrenaline that was pounding through me only served to heighten my desire—the lust wound through my body tighter and harder than I’d ever felt it, and I knew, this time, it wouldn’t end at a kiss.
I’d pushed him far enough.
I needed this.
I didn’t know why. It was something—a catalyst, a game-changer, I didn’t know, but it was significant. Having sex with this man would change something about our relationship, and that was all I knew.
How we felt about each other—hatred, frustration, anger—it would all change after this.
I was scared, but I wanted him more than I feared what would happen next.
I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know how I went from hating him to wanting him, but it was what it was.
It was fucked up, but still.
Dex gripped my ass tighter and pulled his mouth back from mine, but only by an inch. “Jamie…”
