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I’m going to make her do that a lot.
Chapter Four
‘I BELIEVE YOU have something of mine.’
Like my dignity. My self-control.
The meeting took almost two hours, and I managed to concentrate for the most part. But every now and again my insides would clench, reminding me that Jack had driven himself inside me—that he’d made me come against the glass windows of his boardroom and he hadn’t experienced the same pleasure. I should have felt satisfied by that, but instead I was annoyed. Like he had proved how easily he could tear me apart and I hadn’t done the same to him.
‘Yeah...’
His smile makes my heart pound. Desire is slick in my blood, heavy and needy.
‘So?’ I put my hand out, then retract it, remembering belatedly that he has a habit of yanking me towards him when I give him the chance.
‘So...’ He reaches into his pocket and retrieves the underpants. ‘I like the idea of you not wearing them.’
I roll my eyes. ‘What a cliché. Do you expect me to dress a certain way for you from now on?’
His smile is a flicker at the corner of his lips. ‘No...’
He wraps an arm around me easily, pulling me to him. Of course he doesn’t need my hand as an invitation. He has arms and hands of his own, and if he wants to touch me Jack Grant isn’t going to wait for a bloody invitation.
‘But if you did I’d enjoy doing what we just did over and over.’
I’m wet again. I can feel it building and I know that only fucking him—properly—is going to release this beast of need inside me. But I’m still fuming with Jack. How dare he do that to me right before an important meeting?
‘No way,’ I snap. ‘Never again.’
He raises a brow, his smile genuinely amused. ‘Really?’
And he reaches around for my hand, dragging it to his cock. I stare at him, challenging him, showing him I’m not afraid, as he curls my fingers around his length, rock hard inside his suit pants. My heart begins to bang into my ribs so hard that I absent-mindedly wonder if anyone has ever broken a bone that way.
‘You don’t want me to sprawl you out on the table and fuck you so hard you forget your own name?’
I want that so badly—but I have enough self-respect to know that he’s playing with me. That the way he can knock me sideways is insulting.
And so I shrug. ‘I think you’ve got a pretty fucking exaggerated idea of your abilities in bed.’
His laugh sends sparks of warnings through me. ‘Really?’
‘I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.’
I jerk away from him but my hand forms a fist; it wants to go back. To grab his cock and hold it tight.
‘You want a demonstration of how wrong you are?’
‘Arrogant son of a bitch...’ I mutter, my eyes scanning the room until they land on my vintage Balenciaga bag.
I scoop it up, sending him a fulminating look. ‘Keep them.’
I want him to chase me. To follow me and slam the door shut. To press me against it and moan into my mouth. To beg me to get on the floor and let him take me. Because at the smallest sign of conciliatory, normal behaviour I would do anything Jack asked of me.
But he doesn’t.
I leave and I don’t even know if he watches me go—I am too proud to turn around and check. My knees are shaking as I make my way through the corridor. It’s only early afternoon, and I have a mountain of work to do, but suddenly I’m not in the mood.
I don’t want to be near Jack.
