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“Yeah, well, fine,” Lou grumbles, slumping slightly.
He seems to understand that the conversation is over as well. Muttering to himself, he leaves conference room, but slams the door behind him as a final declaration of his power.
Silence settles into the room between us, though the energy still buzzes in here. I move toward the door, and Maxwell steps in front of me, his eyes flashing.
“I’ll get started on the Plaza plan,” I explain, trying to shift out of his way.
But when I step to the side, he matches me. It seems he doesn’t intend on letting me leave.
“We need to talk about this,” he begins.
“The Plaza?” I dodge. “We are already talking about it. I just said I would go to my office and get the—”
He steps close to me. His breath is hot and musky, a distinctly manly smell that bathes my lips and nose, triggering some primal part of my brain.
“No, not the Plaza,” he says in a low voice.
“All right then,” I counter, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Let’s talk. Why did you pull away from me at Sunny’s cottage?”
He flinches slightly. Apparently this is not precisely the thing he wanted to talk about after all.
“Well, to be honest, I am not accustomed to being kissed first. Simple as that.”
I have to bite the inside of my cheeks from smiling at this. Seriously? What is he, fifteen years old?
He glares at me, scowling. “And you? Why did you pull away from me? Was it because you were angry, or because you hated the kiss?”
“Both,” I declare stubbornly, but I’m not sure he believes me.
He raises his eyebrows in challenge.
“I don’t think that’s true,” he counters.
“Well… It is.”
I want to step away from him, but I don’t have anywhere to go. He seems to get even taller, even broader. He takes up a lot of room.
“Prove it.”
“Fine,” I hear myself say.
Fine?
Wasting no time, he steps forward into my personal space, and before I can draw breath, his arms are around me. He crashes me into him, and my hands slide up his strong shoulders to the back of his neck. Nature takes over as our lips mash together, kissing the rest of our argument into oblivion.
His lips are strong and thick, and I find myself giving in to him, letting him pry open my lips, letting his tongue explore the area just behind my teeth.
I want to hold back, but I can’t. My body wants this, my lips want this.
Before I know it I am arching against him, aligning my belly to his, pushing up on my toes to edge ever closer. My fingers knot in his thick, wavy hair. He walks me back to the conference table and leans me against it, then lifts me onto it , nudging my legs apart with his hips. Following a primal urge I open my thighs and wriggle against him, teasing my body with the prospect of a connection. My belly clenches with longing. He groans into my mouth as he matches me, want for want.
I open my eyes slightly so that I can see his face and realize he has done the same thing. We are watching each other...
We pause.
We freeze, mid-gyration.
