My lips twitch before I wipe the smile from my face. I grip her hair and tug so her head falls back, "Tell me the truth."
"Couldn't it be because I saw the man behind the asshole face you show the world? Perhaps I want to get to know you better?"
"Do you?"
Her gaze skitters away.
A hot sensation coils in my stomach, "Thought not." I wrap my fingers around her neck and her gaze widens. "Perhaps I should take you at face value, after all."
"What do you mean—?"
"Shh!" I draw the barrel of the gun over her lips and her face pales. Fear radiates from her. My pulse begins to race. Finally. "Let’s see what you’re made of, shall we?"
I yank her up to her tiptoes, until she’s level with my chest.
"Such a tiny little thing, you are. Not a hair out of place, even after spending hours on the couch in my office. What would it take to mess you up, huh?" I drag the barrel of the gun down her cheek—She swallows—past that lush lower lip, to the hollow at the base of her throat. Goosebumps pop on her skin.
"Not that courageous now, are you?"
She swallows, then tips up her chin and opens her mouth. I click my tongue.
Her gaze narrows, her eyes sparking with that familiar light of defiance. Oh, good. Now we’re getting somewhere.
I drag the pistol down, hook the barrel into the dip of her neckline. She stills, the only movement, her chest rising and falling. Her nipples pebble against the fabric of her blouse. My vision narrows and I draw the gun over the nipple.
She shudders. My shaft lengthens.
"You enjoy that, hmm?"
She shakes her head.
I glare at her, "Don’t lie."
"I’m not."
"Admit it. You are aroused.’
"No." She sets her lips.
"We'll see about that, shall we?"
I toss the gun to one side, then pull her forward.
She falls into me, "What the hell? You tossed a loaded gun, you—"
"Relax, I clicked the safety on." I squeeze my fingers around her nape, my fingers meeting in the front, that’s how slender the length of her neck is. "The only gun you need to be worried about is the one in my pants."
She makes a gagging noise. "Ugh, that was terrible, even for you."
"And if you want to gag, there are other ways to bring that on too."
"Keep your cheap shots to yourself." She huffs, "Why do you keep a gun anyway, and in an unlocked drawer?"
"Why were you snooping in my office?" I retort.
"I..." She swallows, "You left me on my own in your space." She raises her shoulder. "It was fair game."
"Hmm." I lean into her, "And you... little Gigi, are in my space. Does that make you fair game too?"
I tighten my grasp on her, and she trembles. Her thighs quake.
Pressing her against me, I sense her every move, every breath she takes, the trembling of her eyelids. Her lips part, her hips wriggle, and damn it, but I can’t stop myself. I lower my head, close my mouth over hers. I suck on her tongue, bite down on her lower lip, shove my free hand under her skirt, finding that melting core between her legs.
I slide my fingers in between her panties and skin, drag my knuckles across her clit.
A whine bubbles up her throat; I swallow it.
I thrust a finger inside her core, and hell… The melting softness is my undoing. I add a second finger, then another. Her spine curves and her neck arches. I hook my fingers inside of her, finding that hidden center of hers. Her entire body bucks.
I tear my mouth from hers, "Don’t you dare come, Gigi."
She shudders, thrusts her pelvis forward.
I release my grip around her neck, yank my fingers from her pussy. I step back and her legs give way.
I catch her, push her into the door and pin her hips with mine. A pulse beats to life against my temples, on the backs of my eyelids, even in my balls. Jesus. Hell. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
I am supposed to get my women off, reduce them to globs of liquid need, make them crawl to me for release… And while I’d done all that to her… I’d never before been this aroused... This need to bury myself inside of her, scratch my name into her cells, her skin, tear into her and show her how it can be between us? No. No way, am I doing that. I release her and she sags against the barrier.
Back the fuck off, before she pulls you in with those beautiful eyes, that gorgeous visage, the innocence about her which is…all a façade. A trap. One way to ensure that I forget what this entire charade is about—to get to the bottom of whoever set her up to lure me in. If she thinks it is that easy to veer me off course, to distract me from the one thing that has kept me and the Seven focused all these years, then she has another think coming.
"In which sport do winners move backward and losers move forward?" I let the words hang in the air between us.
She blinks, then asks, "Which…which one?"
"A fucking tug of war is what." I chuckle. Bloody hell. Why had I allowed those words to escape my lips? Why the hell am I showing her a glimmer of my vulnerability?
She makes me weak, is why. No way, am I allowing that to happen again. Not when I have a hell of a lot more at stake than some piece of pussy which doesn’t mean anything to me. But she isn’t just another anything… She is… Gigi. An enigma, a puzzle. A riddle I am going to solve, even if it means hurting myself in the process.
I turn, snatch up my gun and shove it into my waistband.
"Wait."
I shrug on my shirt, turn to her. She swallows.
"What about…?" Her voice trails off.
"About?" I growl.
"My proposition."
"Let me think." I drum my fingers on my chest,
