I’d expected her to retreat. To possibly bite me. I didn’t expect the low moan that emanated from the back of her throat, like a primitive growl that reverberated all the way down to my soul. Or the way she pushed against me, so hard my back slammed against the filing cabinet.
The ice princess liked it rough and ready. Who knew?
I ravaged her mouth, palming her breast and tweaking a nipple as she writhed against me. Hot. Wanton. Abandoned.
If she didn’t stop, I wouldn’t be able to and, as much as I’d like to, screwing her on Remy’s desk my first day here wasn’t part of the plan.
Remy.
With an anguished groan I wrenched my mouth from hers, stunned I’d let it get this far.
What was it about this woman that made me forget boundaries let alone my own name?
‘I need to get to work.’ I pushed past her like nothing had happened and took a seat behind the desk, adjusting myself as I did so and wishing my brother had the smarts to install a shower at his workplace.
I’d never needed a cold shower so frigging badly.
Abby stared at me in open-mouthed disbelief. I knew the feeling. I couldn’t believe we’d just done that either.
‘I—you—shit,’ she muttered, shaking her head as I tried not to notice her reddened lips and her flushed cheeks, blond tendrils sticking out all over the place.
She looked like we’d done a lot more than kiss, and my cock throbbed again.
‘Don’t expect me to apologise for that,’ I said, waving her away in a cruel dismissal, like the kiss meant nothing.
When in fact I needed her to leave ASAP so I wouldn’t be tempted for a repeat. Next time, I might not be able to stop.
‘I don’t expect anything from you.’ The haughtiness was back as she tilted her chin and stared down her nose at me. ‘Not a single bloody thing.’
She slammed the door on her way out.
I didn’t blame her.
Abby
IF THERE WERE awards handed out to people for the art of pretending, I’d have an entire shelf full. A room full. An entire house full. I’d be in the academy’s hall of freaking fame.
I’d done it my whole life. Pretending I liked the handcrafted silver jewellery box for my seventh birthday when I’d wanted a backyard cricket set. Pretending I liked having a fully catered disco party for my thirteenth birthday when I’d wanted to have fish and chips on the beach with my only friend. Pretending I didn’t mind having a lavish society wedding when I would’ve been happy swapping vows at the register office.
Yeah, I was an expert at pretence. A goddamn queen. Which was how I managed to get through the rest of the day, creating brioche and baguettes and pains au chocolat, like that kiss had never happened.
That kiss.
Six hours later, it still haunted me.
Powerful and commanding and so damned passionate I got damp just thinking about it.
I’d never, ever, been kissed like that.
Like stepping into a raging inferno, consumed by heat from the inside out and not giving a damn.
I’d lost it. The moment his mouth covered mine I hadn’t been able to think. Hadn’t wanted to, if I was completely honest. Because kissing Tanner King put a full stop on my old life and kickstarted my new.
I’d wanted to celebrate with Channing tonight. Instead, I’d got a brief taste of Tanner and I wasn’t disappointed. Angry at myself for letting it happen. Confused why he’d done it. And seriously peed off. But never disappointed.
God, the man could kiss.
If I was the queen of pretending, he was the master of manipulating lips.
My hand drifted upward to my mouth and a fingertip traced my bottom lip. I could swear it still tingled from the way he’d devoured me.
‘All locked up, Abs.’
I jumped and spun around, hoping Makayla hadn’t seen me. ‘Thanks.’
She grinned and pointed to the small table set up in the kitchen where staff took their meal breaks. ‘Why don’t you sit and tell me all about the dishy Tanner while I fix us a hot chocolate?’
‘Nothing to tell,’ I said, far too quickly, and Makayla raised a knowing brow.
‘You’ve been avoiding the office all afternoon and blushing at random times for no reason so I beg to differ, my friend.’ Makayla tittered as she performed a little pirouette, something she did often, as if to keep her dance training at the forefront of her mind. ‘Plus I just saw you staring into space and touching your lip, so I’m guessing you’re fantasising about Hot Stuff kissing you.’
‘You’re too damn perceptive for your own good,’ I muttered, but took a seat at the table anyway. ‘Make mine a double.’
‘Two giant marshmallows coming up,’ she said, busying herself at the stove. ‘Have to say, it’s nice to see you lust over a guy. In the three months I’ve been here, you haven’t mentioned anyone let alone been out on a date.’
Was I that pathetic? Considering I’d avoided men for the last twelve months since Bardley the Bastard, probably.
‘Who said I’m lusting over Tanner?’
Makayla beamed as she poured hot chocolate into two mugs. ‘Sweetie, it’s all over your face.’
‘Am I that easy to read?’
‘I’m good at reading people.’ Makayla plopped two marshmallows in each mug and headed for the table. ‘Got a ton of experience at an old job.’
Sadness downturned her mouth for a moment, like it had been a less than pleasant experience, before her signature smile was back and she visibly brightened. Makayla spent all her spare time attending dance auditions and had worked in a few theatre productions. Maybe she needed to get a read on the competition?
‘It’s probably my self-imposed year-long drought—’
‘You haven’t been with a guy in a year?’ Makayla squealed and mimicked a faint as I rolled my eyes.
‘Yeah, I’m that much of a sad case.’
It wasn’t until that moment I realised I was. Sad. My marriage might have been bland at best, but I missed the intimacy of having someone to debrief with at the end of a day. Of having a male perspective on life. Of being with a guy, even if the sex had been as lacklustre as the marriage.
Maybe that was why I’d enjoyed Tanner’s
