He pressed buttons for the alarm system. She heard the keys land on the wood of the table and walked even faster, keen to get to her room, alone. He caught her arm, his hand sliding to her wrist. She stopped. He had to feel that galloping rhythm in her veins. She heard him step closer and fought to keep the feeling of fear. That would give her strength.
He kissed the nape of her neck, kept near enough for her to feel his breath warm her skin. ‘When were you last serviced, sweetheart?’ The smile was soft in his voice. ‘Seems to me you’re in need of a tune-up.’
Dani couldn’t breathe, let alone answer. All the old fear dissolved—she was dissolving.
His laugh was low and sexy. ‘You said about your men, Dani, but it’s all a tale.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Because when it comes down to the moment, you hesitate.’ He turned her to face him. ‘You’re not off having one-night stands all over the place or maintaining an assortment of lovers. You go so far, and, honestly, it’s not even that far. Then you stop.’
All talk and no action, huh? OK, so there might be some truth in that. Not that she’d admit to it.
‘I’m even starting to wonder if you’re a virgin,’ he teased.
She choked. OK, so she didn’t have anywhere near the kind of experience she’d implied, but she wasn’t that. She looked at the third button down on his shirt and assumed a bored tone. ‘Maybe I’m just not that into you.’
‘Oh, but you are.’ He bent so it wasn’t his buttons she saw but his smile—the one that lit up his whole face. ‘Want me to prove it to you?’
His pursuit was in earnest now. She could see the determination, the seriousness in his eyes, feel it in every deliberate touch. He’d said that they were inevitable. And if she were honest she’d have to agree. So why was she bothering with the fight? Why not give in?
Because she didn’t want to be his latest prize. Sure, he was compelling, charming. But he was also competitive, driven to win. She suspected he could be ruthless about that. He’d been born to succeed and obviously thrived on it. And right now she was the challenge—but that was all she was. She felt like a bug in the path of a steamroller. And there was that innate part of her that always fought—not to be the statistic, not to do the expected, never to give up or give in.
But most of all she didn’t want to open herself up. Because she had the feeling that Alex would take more than she intended to give. She liked to be in control of her emotions—but she couldn’t see herself keeping that control in his arms. Not when he made her feel like some mindless nympho with just one kiss and a pet or two. So, even in the face of the impossible, she made her stand.
‘Actually I’ll pass, Alex.’ She walked to the relative safety of the doorway. Then she went for the flick-off. ‘You know, you’re right, it has been a while. I found my servicemen to be a little lacking. But, you know, a girl can do so much better for herself.’ She fluttered her fingers up past her breast, to her mouth, and watched his slightly stunned expression widen even more. ‘Infinitely more reliable. Satisfying.’ She ran the tip of her index finger across her lower lip, let her tongue touch it briefly. ‘I can take care of my needs myself. I don’t need anyone else.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
HEAVY-HEADED and grumpy, Dani dragged herself from bed more frustrated than a sex addict trapped in solitary for three years. Because that was exactly what she was, wasn’t it? Some kind of sad addict—craving for his touch, his kiss. It was just because it had been ages, right? That was why her hips were so keen to wriggle now. But her hips had never wanted to wriggle as bad as this.
She imprisoned them in her most conservative black skirt and topped it with a pale blue blouse. Thick black opaque tights helped keep her legs warm and hidden and her wedgeheeled shoes gave her some help in the height department—stilettos weren’t something her ex-tomboy self could walk in.
She brushed her hair, took care applying her usual light layer of make-up. Armour. She needed conservative today.
She stared at the finished result in the mirror and sighed. The frustration was evident on her face—her increased pallor, the shadows under her eyes. Hell, she was letting him mess with her looks. Not good. Was she becoming as much of a victim as her mother? Letting a man upset the life she was trying so hard to get on track?
Maybe, she should just have sex with him and be done with it. She wanted to—how she wanted to. And wasn’t she over-analysing the whole thing? Wasn’t she overstating the effect he had on her? Wasn’t it just because she hadn’t had sex in eons? Couldn’t he be exactly the kind of fling she’d said she did—routine ‘maintenance’. No emotion. No complication. Just fun—it was just sex, after all. And once done, it was done. Why, then they could be friends.
That was how he did it, right? He’d said it was just sex, just fun. Surely if she went in eyes wide-open, she wouldn’t make the mistake of making more of it. Surely with this awareness, she could stay in control?
She walked down the stairs into the kitchen. Got halfway to the pantry before she finally looked at him and stopped—impaled by his intense stare. Long moments disappeared into a vortex while he somehow looked over every inch of her outfit yet held her eyes captive with his.
Her nipples tightened; so did the muscles in her womb. It wasn’t going away. And it was only getting worse.
Owl-like, she closed her eyes and moved her head down, opening her eyes again, she saw her shirt and skirt. She hadn’t realised it, but it was the exact outfit she’d been wearing that day in the lift. OK, maybe she had realised but had been in denial. The look in his eyes had told her he remembered too.
‘Have a good night?’ he asked way too intensely. ‘Enjoy playing by yourself in that big bed?’
Oh, yeah, her hollow words came back to haunt her. What a joke that had been. She’d shifted round restlessly the whole night. She wanted only one thing—his body filling hers. She frowned.
He leaned back against the bench and ran his hand up his chest to his heart, drawing her attention to his fine physique displayed in his crisp white shirt. ‘Don’t ruin my fantasy now.’ He tilted his head, studied her with half-closed eyes and a smile born of wickedness. ‘You know I’d love to watch.’
‘Pervert.’ But she felt the blush covering her skin. Even worse a ripple of excitement stirred in her belly. She couldn’t really want like this, could she?
She moved. The pantry. Cereal. Breakfast. Then work. But her blood pounded, deafening her. She’d had enough of this starvation. She went into the small room and tried to find some food—what had happened to his host act? Why hadn’t he made her breakfast?
She heard a sound, glanced behind her, his body filled the frame of the doorway into this tiny space.
Ragged-breathed, butter-fingered, trembling—she couldn’t even pour the cereal.
‘Is it the small space? That’s what’s upsetting you so much?’
So he’d noticed—hard not to when she’d dropped the box of crunchy clusters twice already.
Her mouth was dry. The swallow hurt. ‘No.’
‘Then why are you so on edge?’
She spun on her toes to face him, now he stood a mere whisper away. ‘You know why.’
He held her gaze as he had only minutes before. The green of his eyes disappeared in the darkness as his pupils swelled.
She was fascinated. And suddenly she was decided. She was determined—in control. ‘If we do this,’ she said firmly, ‘then you’re with no one else while I’m with you.’
His eyes flashed fire. ‘Do you really think it necessary to make that clear?’
‘You kiss complete strangers in elevators. Of course it’s necessary.’
‘Yeah, well, you admit to spreading your legs like margarine for a whole variety of men. So no other lovers for you, either.’
She adopted a faux crushed look, gave an equally faux sigh. ‘It’ll be hard. But I guess I can find the discipline somehow.’
He lifted his hand and wav
ed his palm at her. ‘I can help you with discipline if you want, honey.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘Don’t you dare.’
His low laughter sent waves of want pulsing from her belly outwards.
‘It’s my turn to dare.’ She wrested back the lead.
He sobered instantly. ‘What do you want me to do?’
Her answer was short. Explicit. And very, very naughty.
‘Now?’ He was already moving.
‘Yes.’
‘Here?’
‘Just hurry up.’ She reached for him with both hands, mouth open.
Ravenous.
He met her more than halfway. The pressure of his lips bruised but still it wasn’t close enough. She mewled into his mouth and pushed her whole body closer. And what had begun that day in the lift surged forward, continuing at breakneck speed towards the only possible conclusion. She rubbed against him, so eager to explore him, to have his thighs between hers, to have his hands there too, his mouth and most of all his rock-hard penis. Everything, all at once. Right now.
He moved, kissing her cheek, her neck, down to her chest, pulling the shirt aside so he could access skin. She fumbled with buttons, cursing when they wouldn’t undo as fast as she needed them to. She grabbed his hair and yanked, bringing his mouth back to hers. She gasped for air when she could and dived straight back into the heat of his kisses, the need burning her up. She arched against him, her hips writhing round and round in a mad rhythm.
Now. She wanted him there now.
He ripped his lips from hers. Swore. ‘I don’t want to stop.’