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“Damn, woman puts a ring on it then gets all possessive and alpha and shit.”
In the reflection of the elevator doors, I can see Shane pull the waistband of his pants away from his body then look down as if searching for something.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking to make sure I still own my dick.”
I spin to face him. “If you don’t—”
He grabs the back of my neck and kisses me like his life depends on it, our mouths crashing together in an angry battle as the elevator car swiftly ascends.
It’s what the movies always depict, and what’s written in those cheesy romance novels, but I fucking melt to the ground because of it.
We only come up for air when the elevator dings and the doors slide open.
Neither of us move a muscle.
I cough, just one bark of sound, my head completely confused, my body still liquid, yet I force something to break the silence.
“What was that?”
Shane flashes me a devastating smile. “I’ve been wondering if I could shut you up that way. Apparently, it works pretty well.”
With both arms, he cages me in against a wall, his ocean-blue eyes staring down at me with an intensity I don’t understand.
“What are you doing?”
Shane searches my face, tilts his head and offers me a half grin.
“I’m not exactly sure.”
“Sure about what?”
My heart climbs into my throat, the beat of it a flutter in my neck that I swear can be seen by the naked eye.
I’m exposed again somehow. Despite my baggy clothes and despite the attitude problems Shane claims I have.
He sees everything, and it terrifies me to no end.
“About how you’ve managed to break every rule. I don’t think you understand that there’s a sledgehammer in you that has somehow knocked down every one of my walls.”
“I…”
I don’t know what to say. Shane must know it too.
Quick with another grin, he plucks the keycard from my hand and steps around me to walk away.
Did he just say what I think he said?
The doors close before I have a chance to follow him, the elevator coming to life with a quick descent.
I’m back on the first floor when the doors open again, my eyes wide and unblinking as Angela looks up from the front desk.
She looks at me, and I look at her.
I shrug and press the button again, our death match stare only ended by the silent slide of the elevator doors closing.
By the time I walk into our room, I do so with an argument on the tip of my tongue, but before I can get a word out, Shane tosses me a strawberry from where he’s sprawled out on a couch in the center common area.
