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As his dark eyes smoldered into hers, she knew he fucking knew it too.
Her throat convulsed as she stepped closer and smelled the expensive perfume all over him. It clung to his clothes, his hair, his skin. As if he’d been up close and personal with the owner.
She walked around the desk, already unbuttoning her blouse. Once upon a time—last week—she never would’ve reacted this way. She didn’t know where he’d been or who he’d been with. If she asked, most likely he wouldn’t tell her. And she accepted that, because she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
What she needed to do was to demand the truth. Not make excuses to herself about alternatives to the most likely explanation. But she couldn’t demand the truth, not when she knew there was a chance it would make her leave him. Easier to think she was paranoid. God, she just wanted to be wrong.
Dysfunctional relationshiphad once been a term she heard on daytime TV. Now it was her life, and she still wasn’t backing away.
In her own way, she was still making plans. Still taking calculated risks. Despite evidence to the contrary, the one thing she couldn’t deny when it came to Spencer Galvin was her gut. And that told her not to believe everything her skittish heart warned could be true.
She stopped beside his chair and waited until he looked her way before she untied the shirttails of her blouse. Confronted with lots of bare skin and her scarlet bra, his gaze met hers, his brows low over eyes that were impossible to read.
Did he want her here? What if desire had her all twisted up and he reallyhadslept with another woman? Maybe he hadn’t even recovered yet.
One quick glance at his tented pants answeredthatquestion. Still, what was she doing? Had she really sunk so low that the promise of a man’s possibly sloppy seconds soaked her panties?
Yes and yes, at least to the wanting and the soaked panties. He wanted her. The relentless bulge in his pants testified to that as he swiveled in his chair. And she wanted him, as proven by the complete saturation of her barely-qualified-as panties.
In the war between her head and her emotions, her libido won. At least she knew where she stood there.
His ravenous gaze roamed over her as if he were starving and she were the only sustenance left on earth. “What the hell are you wearing?” he grated.
“I do believe they’re called clothes.”
She flicked open the clasp to her bra and let the cups fall away. Air swept over her feverish skin and pebbled her nipples into tight buds. His eyes darkened until his pupils blended with his irises, further proof of his desire.
“Do you want me?”
“You fucking know I do.”
His belligerent answer only aroused her more. Her fingertips traced her areolas until his breathing quickened, becoming audible in the tense silence.
“I may have failed to make something clear,” she murmured. “While you’re sleeping with me, I’m it for you.”
She leaned down, one hand still cupping her breast as her other hand encircled his rigid length through his trousers. “I’m not asking what happened tonight. I don’t want to know why you smell as if you rolled around in some,” she gritted her teeth, “woman’ssheets. You want me to, I can see it all over your face. You want me to fight you every step of the way so it’s easier for you to walk.”
“You’re so sure you’ve got me all figured out.” His voice was little more than a growl.
“No, I’m telling you how it’s going to be. The line’s in the sand.”
He stared at her, his face strained. He didn’t make promises or apologize. The carnality of his expression said it all.
Want to know how much I want you? You’re about to find out.
He yanked her closer, his hand wrapping around hers on her breast to bring it to his mouth. She gasped at the first strong pull of his tongue and teeth. To gain her balance, she propped her knee on the chair, opening herself for his hand to dive between her legs and rip aside her panties. She stiffened, expecting him to push his fingers inside her. At the moment, she welcomed the intrusion. But his thumb was gentle against her throbbing clit, swirling through her moisture and dipping into her opening to coax out more. When she wavered, he released her breast and reclaimed her hip, steadying her while his gaze traveled from her face to her cleavage and back again.
This wasn’t going at all like she’d planned. She’d set out to seducehim. She’d banked on his release splashing her tongue, not hers coating his palm as he thrust two fingers deep and sent her spiraling into a hard orgasm.
Too quick, too overwhelming. She wasn’t prepared. Couldn’t breathe. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, so loud only his harsh pants cut through the din as he drove her back, forcing her toward the loveseat.
She shook with needing him and didn’t care what that made her. A fool. A desperate woman borrowing her own heartbreak. Even one who deserved it. She ached to be joined with him, even if it was just for this one last time.
No. Why did she think that? This wasn’t the end. Not yet.
God, please not yet.
She thought he’d shove her down, spread her legs and thrust inside her. But he didn’t shove her down. Instead he let her go. Surprised, she flopped on the loveseat, her gaze rocketing upward as he backed up and turned away.
