“Do you need to retouch me before I go inside?” she asked.
Her words struck him as potently sexual. Naturally. Everything was striking him as sexual, ever since he’d seen Gia sitting in that conference room yesterday. He wanted to touch her all right, and retouch her, and squeeze her . . . and consume her. He looked over at her. Her lips parted beneath his stare. Prodded by instinct and simple, unmitigated lust, he gave up the fight for the moment. He leaned toward her.
“I need to do something first,” he rasped before he covered her mouth with his own.
He knew the moment her warm breath rushed against his lips and her mouth softened beneath his kiss it wasn’t just for a moment though. She was under his skin, and good. He’d wondered if he had fooled himself into thinking that being with her was much, much better in memory than in reality.
No. He’d had it right from the first.
He heard her soft whimper as he slicked his tongue along her lower lip and felt her inner heat. Right here, right now, only the naked truth existed. He dipped his tongue between her lips, the act of piercing into her sweetness striking him as intensely erotic.
He knew he should stop. But he couldn’t. Especially when she slid her tongue against his, and her flavor fully penetrated his brain. He framed her face with his hands and delved his tongue between her lips hungrily. When she gripped his hair and her short nails scraped against his neck, his cock jerked viciously.
He wanted inside her again, and his craving was sharp and cutting.
He tore his mouth from hers, grimacing at the harsh depravity. Sitting up, he inhaled, straining to clear the fog of lust from his brain.
“Sorry. I don’t know why I did that,” he said, scraping his hair out of his face in a frustrated gesture.
“Yes, you do,” she replied softly.
Seven
For a few seconds, he just stared at her.
“Things are different now than they were then,” he said.
“Because you know the ugly, horrible truth about me?”
“Because of the circumstances. We shouldn’t make this situation any more complicated than it already is,” he growled softly, pulling the keys out of the ignition and avoiding her stare. He twisted around and found his makeup kit.
“Maybe it would be best if I showed you how to do your mouth,” he said quietly as Gia started to raise her seat.
“Yeah, maybe it would be.”
Damn. He knew by her cool tone he’d offended her.
* * *
Gia applied her lip makeup as Seth had instructed her, trying to ignore the potent combination of anger and lust simmering inside of her.
So what if what Seth said was true? The reasonable thing to do would be to rein in this teeth-grinding attraction they had for each other. She knew that. But that didn’t make it any easier to hear him say it. Instead, it just brought back all the reminders of why he’d never called her to begin with.
You had my number as well.
The memory of his saying that this morning popped into her brain, unwelcome. She irritably shoved the thought aside. He’d been changing the subject to derail her.
She knew she shouldn’t care what he thought of her. But no one liked being stereotyped, being seen as something they weren’t. Being seen incorrectly by Seth Hightower especially grated on her already raw nerves.
“Go on inside. I’ll follow you in a minute,” she told him coolly as she painted the neutral shade on her lips.
“Gia, I only meant—”
“I know what you meant,” she said crisply, studying her reflection in the mirror. “It wouldn’t be smart for us to give in to it.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want you like hell.”
She blinked in surprise at his harsh statement and turned to him. His face looked rigid, his eyes glittering.