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If possible, his argument seemed to enrage her further. She shimmered with pulsing waves of energy, her skin gorgeously flush. The wet fabric molded to every curve, and her hard ni**les pushed against its barrier in an effort for freedom. He smothered a curse as his body responded in all primitive madness. He hardened, and dimly noticed the evidence against the thin fabric of his sweat shorts.
“You don’t get to have a say in my life. No matter how far we go back!” She closed the distance between them. Fisting her hands in his T-shirt, she stood on tiptoes and snarled, “I deserve one night of great sex, Max. Would you deny me that? Would you deny what you give to yourself? I’m not a perfect china doll placed on a shelf to be played with in careful moments. I’m flesh and blood and I want messiness and passion and orgasms.”
Oh, yeah, he got it. His c**k throbbed in time to her words. The scent of fresh rain, coconut and female swarmed his senses. Max fought the insanity of the moment but she battered him mercilessly.
“You scared the crap out of him, and he was afraid to touch me.”
“Then I was right. No man is worth your time if he can’t even stand up to someone who blocks what he wants.”
“Don’t you judge him, you arrogant ass. You’re his boss, and you made him believe I was some scared little virgin afraid of a little physical contact.”
She pushed at his chest. Temper wrapped around arousal and egged him on. “Isn’t that what you are? There’s nothing wrong with virginity. Do you want to give it away on the first man who tempts you?”
A low growl escaped her throat. “Yes! I’ve done plenty of things, Maximus Gray, things you wouldn’t believe. And I liked them, and I want more, and if I want to screw every cute man in the whole frikkin company you’re not going to stop me. You don’t have the right.”
The words hung thick and heavy in the air. A challenge. The alpha in him rose to the surface, where civility and politeness faded away. She vibrated with a fiery sexual tension that verged on explosive and damn her to hell and back, he was going to be the man to turn it.
He gave her one last chance as he clung to the edge of the cliff.
“Okay, so you’re a big girl who can make her own decisions. Fine. I’ll stay out of your life even if you are making a big mistake. Go home and grow up.”
He held his breath. Those dark eyes met his and some of his madness must have shown in his face. She eased back a precious inch and studied him.
Then smiled. “Go to hell, Max. I’m done with you.”
Satisfaction roared through him. He dropped from the edge and fell into the pit without a regret.
He grasped her around the waist and lifted her up high against his chest. Three steps and her back slammed against the door. His erection fit between the wet notch of her thighs and emitted a shocked gasp from those plump lips. Her pupils dilated.
“You asked for it, little girl. So you got it.”
He bent his head and took her mouth with his.
In some dim corner of his mind, he always imagined if he ever kissed Carina it would be more of a spiritual experience; an initiation into tenderness and the gentle slide of lip against lip. Instead, the reality ripped through him with a savageness he never believed possible. He was going to hell and it was worth every damn moment.
Her lips fit perfectly to his, supple and soft under the bruising heat of his mouth. He braced himself for a protest, and decided this was all about teaching her a lesson. But she gave a hungry little moan, sunk her fingers into his hair, and opened herself to him.
He surged. The taste of fruity pinot lingered on her tongue along with a honeyed sweetness that was part of her core. Max couldn’t be gentle if he tried. His head spun as he became drunk on her, diving in and out of that silky heat for more. This was no shy, uninitiated virgin he held. She blossomed beneath the hunger and demanded her own as she clung and opened her mouth wider, her tongue meeting each of his thrusts and challenging him to go deeper. He pressed her hard against the door and she gasped, wrapping her thighs tight around his hips and squeezing. He groaned in agony, desperate for more, and ripped down the spaghetti straps holding her soaked dress up. One breast popped out from the wet fabric, glistening wetly, her nipple stiff and the color of rubies.
His palm cupped the heavy weight and his thumb tweaked the tip.
She exploded.
Her nails dug into his scalp and her teeth bit down on his lower lip. The sheer rawness of her arousal thickened his blood and with a curse, he dipped his head and took her nipple deep into his mouth. He sucked, his tongue swirling and giving pleasure while she emitted tiny mewls, arching up for more. A wild creature burning up in his arms, he held her tight while he licked and teased, until a forceful tug at his head brought him back up.
He studied her face in the light. Swollen lips let out breathy little gasps, her dark eyes filled with a seething passion that reflected his own expression. “More.” Her voice ripped out husky and broken. “I want more.”
The tension had been building between them for days. Max didn’t give a crap about honor or politeness or lessons. He dipped his head and dived again, their tongues battling for dominance. He thrust his erection fully between her thighs, the thin fabric of their clothes only cranking the fire between them hotter. The other strap came loose and both her br**sts were free for his fingers. He rolled her ni**les and pinched them lightly. The smell of her musky arousal hit him like a wolf in heat.
One hand left her breast and grabbed the material of her skirt, bunching it up in his hands and hiking it high on her thigh. His fingers touched trembling, damp skin. Slid across a tiny scrap of lacy thong that barely covered her. Hooked under the elastic band. And dove in.
She cried out his name and a rush of liquid met his fingers. Tight and hot, her channel squeezed him and his head burst like fireworks, barely able to hold it together. She was all fire and light; pure passion throbbed from her center and drenched his hand. He swallowed her delicious gasps and knew in that moment he had to have her. Own. Possess. Claim.
For him.
The phone rang.
The insistent beep cut through the murky fog and penetrated his head. He ripped his lips from hers, breathing heavily in the sudden silence. Three rings. Four. Five.
The machine picked up. Michael’s voice boomed over the speakers. “It’s me. Just checking on how the party went—I know it’s late. Let me know how Carina did on her date. I’m sure yours hasn’t ended yet, my friend. Ciao.”
