frenzy had died down and his personal life was no longer entertainment news, but he wasn’t sharing that shit. And why? So that she didn’t have to feel embarrassed about over-sharing with her one-night stand? He parried with a step of his own. ‘But then what would you stare at?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re practically drooling, sweetheart. I know I was a little wiped out last night, so if you want another crack at it...’ He tilted his head towards the massive bed, which dominated the room like an elephant, every muscle tensed in anticipation of finally getting what he craved.
She closed the distance between them, eyes glazed and mouth open as if lust oozed from every pore.
‘I’m perfectly capable of separating a meaningless fuck from the work that needs to be done at the club.’ Her stare lingered on his mouth.
Was she waiting?
For the pithy reply banked up on his tongue, or another taste? His mind fogged as her proximity, her scent, her heat flooded his blood with the testosterone that had dogged him all day, just knowing she worked in the same building. Close enough to hear her throaty chuckle while she spoke to contractors and the soft humming that accompanied her fingers clacking on her keyboard.
‘My club.’ Time to remind Miss Compartmentalised who steered the ship. ‘But are you capable of the work? Ben and I need someone honest, dependable, committed.’ Ash ignored the flare that turned her irises to molten metal. He ignored the urgency of his own needs beating at his body until his muscles screamed with inertia. ‘Tell me, who are you today?’
Her hands fisted on her hips, a move that tightened the fabric across her full breasts outlining her erect nipples...begging for his tongue?
‘What does that mean?’
‘Yesterday a ditsy student tourist, today a competent professional in charge of my club? I don’t take well to being deceived.’ He battled for his legendary control, which he relied on as armour to protect himself. ‘I don’t trust you. So until I know my club is in safe hands, you and I will be working very closely together. Got that?’
Her stare narrowed but her eyes gleamed with something close to the incandescent flare burning through his veins. Perhaps that was the answer: to fuck this inexplicable chemistry out of their systems; to quench the fire. He’d said it wouldn’t happen again, but that was before she’d stormed into his bedroom. Before all her talk about meaningless fucks and moving on. Before she’d drooled over his deliberate nudity and was still mentally stripping him with her hungry, slumberous stare.
Her mouth hung open while said stare burned the flesh from his features. ‘I’d never do anything to damage Ben’s business—you’re just paranoid.’ She dropped her bag and fisted her hands on her hips once more.
He inched closer, chest puffed. ‘You’ve got that right. It works well for me these days.’
Her eyes blazed. ‘I’m here to help my brother open his club. No matter how much you want me gone.’ Her breath hitched. ‘Unless I hear it from Ben that my services are no longer required, I’m staying, so you’d better get used to the idea.’
She jutted her chin forward, bringing her mouth only centimetres from his, her breath fanning his face. She looked halfway to orgasm already—panting, flushed, her mouth saying one thing while her body strained in his direction.
Don’t touch her.
Back away.
Too late...
In less than a heartbeat she’d pushed her hands into his still-damp hair and dragged his face down. But he’d been on the move himself. He scooped her around the waist and hauled her from the floor. Their mouths clashed and she gave a cry close to a victory wail as she parted her lips under the surge and slide of his ferocious kiss.
All reason fled. Their tongues touched, the thrust and parry of wildness a perfectly matched duel. Her body moulded to his as if they’d been forged side by side. Her passion seemed to enflame the lust that had been simmering in him since she’d swanned into his office this morning—his knees almost buckled. He wasn’t alone.
Who was this woman he couldn’t resist? Her wilful determination turned him on as much as it pissed him off and her demanding sexuality was...magnificent. His first impressions about her had been dead wrong. Essie fully embraced her sexuality—another fascinating aspect to her complex personality.
Like electricity and water, they sparked off each other. Her hands twisted his hair until he growled. Her greedy mouth sucked on his lips as if she wanted to consume him whole and her thighs clung to his waist as he hoisted her higher to press his steely length against her warm, wet centre, delivering the friction they both seemed to crave.
If he hadn’t been staring her down, eye-to-eye, while they consumed each other, his eyes would have rolled back in his head. Her fantastic body aligned with his, her wet heat seeped through the denim covering his thigh as she ground herself there and her nipples poked through the two layers of clothing separating her chest from his.
A fresh surge of blood turned his dick to granite.
Yes.
One more time to banish this tigress masquerading as a pussycat from his system and restore his control over the explosive situation. He didn’t need to trust her. He just had to fuck her. Just sex. Great sex. One last astounding time.
With one arm now curled around his neck like a vice, her free hand snaked between their bodies to rub him through his jeans before fumbling for the buttons of his fly. She writhed in his arms, all sexy little whimpers and catches of her breath. Fuck, she was a hellcat. Challenging, uninhibited, eager. He’d been doomed from the minute he’d opened his eyes to the sight of her yesterday in the sun-dappled park.
He spread his feet, cementing his balance so he could do a little exploring of his own. Cupping her ass in one hand, Ash delved beneath the hem of her dress with the other. His fingers skimmed her thigh, zeroing in on her to find the source of the warm patch on his jeans—her soaked panties. With their working mouths and challenging stares still locked, he slipped his fingers beyond the cotton and lace.
She was fiery hot and slick against his fingers, and when he swiped forward and located her clit she broke free from the kiss with a moan. Her sultry glare—half fuck you, half fuck me—dared him. Spurred him on. Not that he required the encouragement.
In two strides, he’d deposited her ass on the edge of his dresser, which, like the rest of his home, was sleek, minimal and uncluttered. She spread her thighs, welcoming him into the cradle of space she created with a tug of his shirt.
While his fingers resumed the slip and slide against her, his other hand sought her pebbled nipple, strumming through the layers of fabric. But that wasn’t enough for her. She released her grip on his shoulders long enough to unbutton the top few buttons of her dress and yank both it and her bra down, exposing one pale, creamy shoulder and a perfect, pink-tipped breast.
Fuck.
He groaned.
Perfection.
He dived to get his mouth on her. Just one more taste. Then he’d stop this madness.
But
