“You are infuriating,” I breathed, barely holding it together as he placed his hands on my hips, gripping them tightly and turning me around so I was facing the shelves. He pressed his thumbs into the space between my jean shorts and my tank top, and I nearly melted. When he ran a hand just below my belly button, my legs threatened to shake.
“Are you done?” he asked, his voice deep as he waited for my confirming nod. “That’s right. Now unzip your pants like a good girl.”
Oh god, did I like that or hate it? And why were my hands moving of their own volition?
“See? You can listen.” His pleased tone almost had me crawling up the wall. The man had tormented me for weeks, and I was giving him everything he wanted.
“I can’t stand you.”
His lips dropped to just below my ear. “Tell me that in a minute when you can no longer stand.”
God, the man was cocky. And that word brought our proximity to the forefront of my mind. With the way we were flush together, I could feel everything. He was affected by me, too.
I gripped the shelves and thanked whoever I needed to thank for their sturdiness before realizing he had probably built them. I’d always liked how handy he was. Jack knew how to build things. He used his hands and strength for all kinds of purposes, and now he was going to use them on me.
Jack’s hands went below my beltline. His fingertips played with the top of my underwear, and I held my breath as he waited for my approval. Would I allow him to push this further? Because this would mean something. We’d had our mud make-out, and I’d barely reconstituted myself. Now, there was this undoing kiss and his exploring hands. This was more intimate. Something I wouldn’t be able to call just a kiss afterward. I wouldn’t be able to blow it off or forget it. I’d bet neither would he.
Lust overpowered me, and I gave his hand the subtlest push, enough to tell him that I was in this if he was. Just like with the competition, our goals were aligned.
Jack kissed the curve of my neck, and his fingers made a teasing pass over my clit to my center. My knees nearly gave way, but he clutched me tightly with his other arm, holding me steady against him as his fingers toyed with me. An embarrassing whimper left my lips as he delved deeper between my thighs.
“You get this wet for the man you hate?”
“Shut up, Jack.” It was barely a demand. He had all the control, and I just… let him have his way because this felt too good. This man I’d been actively fighting had broken down my walls.
He pressed his lips to my ear and lowered his voice. “Do you know what you’ve been doing to me? Walking around in those tiny sleep shorts that are barely more than a slip of fabric? I’ve spent more nights tortured than tired. And I work hard, beautiful. I should be sleepy as hell.”
Thank goodness it wasn’t just me. I’d seen him shirtless more times than I could count. Showers in our shared space were the most frustrating. He didn’t always plan ahead and bring clothes into the bathroom. Sometimes, he had the audacity to come out dripping wet in a towel, to the point that my tongue practically hung out every time he took a shower. I’d hear the water turn on, and my Pavlovian response was for my mouth to go dry.
I understood how he affected me, but I still couldn’t believe I affected him. “You’re an insomniac.”
He let out a little chuckle. “You make it worse.”
Jack dragged some of my wetness up to my clit and rubbed soft circles there. I leaned my head back against his shoulder and moaned. I should have been thinking about the possibility of someone coming in here, but I was too busy hoping I’d be the one who’d come. And thanks to Jack’s skillful fingers, I was well on my way.
How was I going to go back to sleeping in the same room as him after he’d done dirty things to me? How long would I be able to resist taking his cock between my lips and testing just how hard I made him? If the thing pressed against me was any indication of size, I’d be in for it.
“Do you like being dirty at your place of work? Where anyone could see you leaving flushed and properly fucked?” Jack nipped at my earlobe and ran his free hand up my stomach and undermy bra, coaxing another moan from me as he cupped my breast. “You’re so beautiful when you moan, princess. It must kill you that I’m the one making you come undone.”
Dirty talking Jack? Sign me up. I didn’t care about our previous feelings toward each other, even if he was rubbing them in my face. I just cared that I was dangling on the edge, and this hot lumberjack was the one taking me there. My eyes blurred. I’d felt this nearly overwhelming sensation the closer I got to letting go. My legs trembled slightly, and another soft noise left my lips. But I wasn’t ready to give in just yet.
My breath came in short bursts. “Don’t think so highly of yourself.”
Jack kissed my neck and blew on the skin, causing me to shiver. “I can stop.”
“Don’t—don’t do that either,” I begged.
The small puff of a laugh leaving his lips confirmed he knew he’d won, but he kept it to himself. Instead, he increased his pace and the pressure he put on my clit, using his other hand to pinch my nipple until my mind went blank. I knocked containers of acrylic paint over, grinding my ass against him. A slew of words I wasn’t proud of flew out of my mouth, many of them incoherent.
When my legs buckled, he held me firmly with his other arm while he continued to tease me.
“That’s it, princess, give in. Give me what I want.”
If he actually hated me, he would have stopped before I dissolved in his arms, but he didn’t. A whine fell from my lips as I broke apart. His kisses softened against my neck, and as I tried to catch my breath, I thought that maybe he didn’t hate me at all.
I caught my breath, then turned around, but I could barely make eye contact, the shame of what I’d done washing over me. “I can’t believe I just did that. After you told me to apologize.”
Jack lowered his head into my eyeline, a spark of recognition crossing his eyes. He touched my arm, and I didn’t pull away. “No, Nat. I meant that I’m the one who’s sorry.”
