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“I came here to tell you to never touch me again.”
“Coincidentally, you came here breaking the news while wearing a nightgown that barely covers your tits and shows off every inch of your legs.” I looked outside my window again, finding the sight of her unbearable all of a sudden.
I caught her in my periphery looking down, surprised by the fact that she was already in her pale blue nightgown.
She was such a fucking mess.
I’d met a variety of women in my life, but I’d yet to meet a woman who was so hell-bent on seducing me, only to freak out whenever I showed faint signs of interest.
“Fine.” I ran my thumb over my lips, watching the manicured neighborhood with indifference.
“Fine?”
“Yes. You seem like a particularly boring lay as it is.”
“I’d take being boring over being a psycho any day of the week.”
“Humiliation looks good on you, Nemesis. Now, go,” I ordered drily, sliding my tie from my neck.
I watched her reflection in my window as she started to walk toward the doors, stopping with her hand on one of the handles and turning around to face me again.
I turned around to meet her eyes.
“You know how I knew you weren’t Angelo when we kissed? Not because of your height or your scent. It was because you tasted like ash. Like betrayal. You, Senator Keaton, taste bitter and cold, like poison. You taste like a villain.”
That did it.
I stalked over to her, too fast to make her second-guess her next move, buried a hand in her hair, my mouth coming down on hers to shut her up.
I wrapped my tie around the back of her neck with my other hand, tugging her toward me and binding us together.
It was a long, violent kiss.
Our teeth clashed, her tongue chasing mine first while I plastered her little body against my doors, grinning into her mouth at the fact that her back hit the round handles.
Her lips moving against mine confirmed that she was a liar, and her groin bucking against my own cemented the fact she wanted to be fucked badly—she just didn’t like idea of yielding to me.
I tightened my grip on the back of her skull, deepening our kiss. She was dazed, and I knew it by the way her hands slid up my chest, cupping my cheeks and drawing me closer to her.
It was the same thing she did with Angelo at the wedding.
That was how I caught them when I left the restroom. Her hands on his cheeks.
In one move, she switched her touch from passionate to intimate. She pulled the tie between us, moaning helplessly into my mouth.
I drew back instantly.
Ours is not a love story.
“Leave,” I barked.
“But…” She blinked.
“Leave!” I threw the door open, waiting for her to run away. “I made my point. You made yours. I won. Tuck your tail between your legs and get the hell out, Francesca.”
“Why?” Her eyes widened.
She was more embarrassed than hurt, judging by the way she hugged her chest to cover her puckered nipples under her nightgown.
