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“Yes,” I say, my voice no more than a breath, as I arch my neck, his mouth sliding along the line of it, not quite touching. “I do.”
I hate myself for caving, for craving him.
“Yeah, but you fucking want me.”
“Christian,” I say, his mouth back at mine. “You’re the worst.”
“Flattery,” he whispers, “will get you everywhere.”
And he kisses me, his lips feathering against mine, a slow and sweet slide, and I moan, I can’t help it. His mouth is the most decadent thing I’ve ever had the pleasure to taste. And I want it.
I start to open for him as his lips come down harder, but something pierces the roaring in my ears, the seductive little cocoon he’s built.
Jerking away, I grab his arms, digging my fingers into the flesh beneath his shirt. “What the . . .”
Outside, in the rest of the office, is the rise of angry female voices and the music suddenly being silenced.
“Leave it.”
I let him go and step around him, going for the door. “Not on your life.”
“Fuck, Mia. They’re arguing, nothing else.”
“And you know this how?”
I pull open the door and start down the hall, Christian keeping up with me easily. “Because our men are here. And—”
“Leo.” I stop and shoot a glare at my brother who’s at the bar with a drink and chatting to or chatting up Lisa, who’s eyeing him like he’s Thanksgiving dinner.
“Just let it go,” says Christian. “Let the girls have it out, and we can get back to it.”
I whirl to face him. He’s so close it’s a wonder I don’t bump into him. “Not on your life. And are you giving me advice?”
“Maybe.”
“Go fuck yourself. They don’t fight like this, it’s something else.”
And with that, I spin away and go up to the stage area where the fighting continues, right until they see me.
“What is going on?” I look at them all.
Julia gives Annabeth a push. “She’s in my way.
Annabeth shoves back. “Am not. You just want the best spot.”
“Stop it.”
These are the headliners and they’re acting like schoolchildren. And . . . are Annabeth’s eyes glassy? I can’t tell under the lights. But I know what I have to do.
“Ladies,” I say, “congratulations. Do you know what today is? Drug testing day.”
No one dares make a complaint, but there are a few hunching in on themselves in a self-defense move.
“Random day is today. You know the drill.” I turn to the bar. “Lisa?”
She looks up, straightening and flinging a bar rag over her shoulder. It’s early for her to be here, but maybe she’s trying to get things in order for a big weekend we have as the VIP room is booked out, or maybe she’s here because she’s involved in the drugs.
But the minute I think that, I dismiss it. I’m angry, I’m jittery, and it doesn’t help that Christian sets off all kinds of things inside me I don’t want touched. I trust her, always have, and she’s been exemplary.
