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“No.”
“Oh.”
He thought her earlier head shake might have meant he was going to need to explain how he’d ended up mauling her in the name of a story to Madden or some flunky in HR. Her “oh” left no room for misunderstanding, it simply dripped with disappointment and landed in his gut like a barrage of fists.
He kissed Honeywell, being as gentle as he knew how, touching his lips to hers as softly as possible. He meant it to be brief, playacting, something she was prepared for because she’d sensed it, because of what happened earlier, but now he caught her flavor and one of her hands brushed over the nape of his neck and into his hair and that, that did things to his body, revved his engine in the same way as preparing to enter the pit did. But no, this was different, this was a liquid heat that spread right through him, loosening his muscles from his bones.
Nothing hurt anymore, not the bruises on his ribs, not the strain in his shoulder and forearm. Jesus Christ, she was like sunshine. She was warm and pliant and molded to him as if she was cast for his weight and height, as if she was specially fitted to his physical form and the carnal desires he spent most of his time ignoring. He wasn’t capable of ignoring them now.
He took that kiss and lit it on fire, angling his head to connect with her better, increasing the pressure and slapping the wall in triumph when she opened her mouth to his on a helpless groan. The first tentative touch of her tongue was a new shock, but he was nothing if not a guy who could roll with the punches. He dragged her hips a little closer and they both groaned. She’d feel how hard he was. She didn’t care, this was sudden and out of order, he felt fingernails in the side of his neck and the inside of her knee against his thigh. That dress had a split, he could get his hand under her thigh, and when he did, she clamped down on his bottom lip with a satisfied hiss.
It was the blare of car horn close by that brought him back, the laughter of people spilling from Elaine’s that made him pull away from Derelie’s lips. She was lost to the moment still, body pressed to the glass, fingers pressed to the back of his neck, eyes closed, lips wet and parted, and he was in a world of hurt beyond anything Madden could stir for him.
He broke contact altogether and stepped back. “I’ll get you a cab.”
He dragged his eyes away from her blissed-out expression and made for the curb. She didn’t follow, which gave him a chance to settle his head. No way that should’ve happened. That was all kinds of workplace inappropriate and personally compromising.
He flagged a cab, but let another couple take it. He had to talk to Derelie and it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in the office.
When he turned to check on her, it was to see her straighten her dress, smooth her hands over her hair, nervous gestures and no attempt to meet his eyes. He went back to her side. “We got them. Thank you. Couldn’t have done it without you. I’ll make sure Potter knows what a help you were.”
“Help.” She looked down at her shoes.
“I wouldn’t have gotten what I needed without you, Honeywell. It worked out swell.”
“Swell.” She put her fingers over her lips. She looked dazed. Maybe she’d banged her head.
He leaned closer and ducked his chin to look more closely at her. “Are you all right?”
Quick shake of her head. “No. No.” Then her eyes snapped up and she shoved him. “You kissed me.” She wasn’t dazed, she was pissed off.
“You asked me to.”
“You said no.”
“I lied.”
She flapped her arms. “Why would you do that?”
He lied again. “I’m on a story. You do what you have to do.”
“Kissing me like your blood was on fire was what you had to do?”
“For the story.” For the story, because what else was there? She was farm-fresh and he was busy and bad news for her.
“Well, now it’s my turn.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Goddamn, he needed a smoke. “There are no turns.”
“Isn’t that the trick you just showed me? Do what you have to do for the story.”
He turned to look at the flow of traffic for a cab, using his body to signal the argument was over as well as his words. “Honeywell, we’re done here. Time to go home.”
She grabbed his arm. “We’re not done. It’s my turn. I’m doing what I have to do for the story.”
“What story are you talking about?” And then it hit him. “Ah no, no chance.”
“You took advantage of me. You have to do the love experiment now.”
