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Hearing the name from him again sends a familiar pull through me. “Are you planning to leave?”
His gaze travels over me before returning to my face. “I haven’t decided yet. Good thing you’re pretty.”
My mouth threatens to smile as I push away from the door and walk toward him.
Chapter 20 Nash
Duncan pushes away from the door and comes toward me with that same unshakable confidence he brings to everything. God, this man is so fucking sexy it’s irritating. I came here ready to chew his ass out over someone breaking into my apartment, not get distracted by the way his dress shirt stretches across his shoulders when he moves.
He stops directly in front of me and leans over, bracing one hand against the back of the couch. His body cages me in without actually touching me, surrounding me with the clean cedar scent of his cologne. Then his other hand slides beneath my chin, and the rough pad of his thumb brushes my jaw as he tips my face toward his.
“You ran from me, boy.” His voice stays quiet, controlled, the command in it sending heat straight through me despite how pissed off I am. “I gave you rules, and you broke one of them.”
Damn it. My body is already responding to him, my pulse picking up as I fight the urge to lean into his hand. “It was a game. A fantasy.”
Duncan moves closer until his breath warms my lips. “No, brat. I told you what I wanted from you, and I meant every word.”
I should probably move. Put some space between us. Remind him that I came here furious and that we still have a serious fucking problem to deal with. Instead, I stay right where I am while his thumb traces slowly along my jaw.
“You ran when I told you not to.” His gaze holds mine. “Now I’m going to give you exactly what you’ve been asking for.”
My mouth is suddenly dry. “And what exactly have I been asking for?”
His smile is pure fucking Daddy. “You’d better hope the chairs at dinner are padded.”
Heat rushes into my face. “You’re—” His mouth covers mine before I can finish.
The kiss wipes out whatever smart-ass response was coming next. His hand shifts from my chin to the side of my neck, holding me exactly where he wants me while his lips move over mine with slow, deliberate pressure. I grab the front of his shirt and kiss him back because apparently my anger has no problem sharing space with wanting him.
Damn him. None of the reasons I came here have disappeared. Someone still broke into my apartment, Duncan still had me followed, and Justin is still out there. I’m still pissed at him. I’m also clutching his shirt and waiting for him to kiss me deeper.
When his tongue sweeps across my lips, I open for him, and Duncan immediately takes advantage. He deepens the kiss, his hand firm against my neck as I pull him closer by his shirt. The moan that slips out of me would be embarrassing if I had enough functioning brain cells left to care.
By the time he lifts his mouth from mine, I’m breathing hard and seriously reconsidering several of the arguments I planned to make. Not all of them, though. I narrow my eyes when I catch the satisfaction on his face. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself. I’m still pissed at you.”
“I remember.” His thumb brushes once along my neck before he straightens and takes my hand, pulling me off the couch and against him. “We’re going to deal with that, but first we’re dealing with you running from me.”
My pulse jumps at the unmistakable promise in his voice. “I seem to remember leaving because you were tied up and couldn’t stop me.”
His eyes narrow, and I have a feeling that was either absolutely the wrong thing to say or exactly the right thing, depending on what happens next.
Duncan leads me across the office. “When we disagree, you stay and finish the conversation with me. You don’t run.”
“But we weren’t disagreeing. You wanted me to stay. I wanted to leave. We both got what we wanted.”
He gives me a look that says my logic isn’t nearly as impressive as I think it is, but instead of arguing, he stops in front of what looks like an ordinary paneled wall and presses a hidden latch.
The panel slides aside.
I stare into the bedroom hidden behind his office, then look at him. “Well, that’s not ominous at all.”
The room is surprisingly simple, with a neatly made bed, a nightstand and a bathroom off to one side. No ridiculous billionaire sex dungeon. Slightly disappointing, if I’m being honest.
“You have a secret bedroom behind your office.” I follow him inside, taking another look around. “How very Batman of you.”
Duncan sits on the edge of the bed and reaches for me, his large hands closing around my hips before he guides me between his knees. The position puts me close enough to feel the heat of his body through my jeans, and suddenly the hidden bedroom becomes a hell of a lot more interesting.
I look down at him. “You’re going to spank me.”
