“Suit yourself,” she chirped with a roll of her shoulder.
Like some switch had been flipped, she turned her attention back to the contracts and acted like nothing ever happened. I was starting to realize I may have been in over my head with her. It wasn’t so easy for me to snap back to normal when I still had all the urges she conjured up pumping through my body.
But I tried my best to sit back down and chill out. I might have succeeded had she not proceeded to throw out subtle modes of seduction over the next half hour. My pen tapping resumed as she leaned forward and back in her chair with discontented sighs—any way she could contort her body to emphasize her ample cleavage or the curves of her body.
“Stop it,” I finally snapped, trying not to look up as I said it.
“Stop what?” she feigned innocence.
“You know what you’re doing,” I grumbled.
“And it’s driving you mad, isn’t it?” she teased. “I knew it. You want me.”
“No one’s debating that.”
“But you’re not man enough to do anything about it,” she sighed, prancing over to the coffee machine to pour another cup.
With her mug full, she approached me again and held it out for another splash of bourbon.
“I told you. No more,” I scolded.
“Are you enjoying telling me ‘no’ so much?”
That was when I lost it. I flew to my feet again, but this time instead of stepping back—I went lunging forward. My body hummed with the closeness of her heat as I kept moving forward, backing her up against the wall until my chest was pressed against hers.
“Don’t act so naive,” I growled, letting my lips drift entirely too close to hers. “You know damn well I want you. Because who the hell wouldn’t? Look at you. But isn’t there some other poor guy out there who’s ten years your senior without so many ties to your career and your family? Like…oh, I don’t know…Your fiance?”
“He’s only six months my senior,” she defended, her eyes sparking into mine. “Maybe that’s what’s been missing between us. Maybe I’m more into older men than I ever realized. I think I should find out before I walk down the aisle…and maybe you can help me with that.”
My lips parted, but I was out of words. The only thing left to do was to give in and let my mouth go crashing into hers, but I resisted a moment longer. I was going to at least make the most effort I could in holding out…even if this thing between us was starting to feel inevitable.
“You know, one of the fantasies I used to have about you was that my mother would ask you to babysit me,” she went on to explain, driving the knife in deeper. “I used to imagine that I’d be in my room…touching myself. And then you’d barge in without knocking…and punish me for being such a bad girl.”
Everything inside of me, including any ounce of resolve I had left, completely melted. “You are a bad girl. A very bad girl.”
6
Cat
Jordan’s words rattled through my whole body, vibrating straight down in between my legs with a force not even a vibrator could reckon with. I didn’t know men were capable of that sort of thing. All I knew was that it was game on.
“You’re right. I am a bad girl,” I taunted him. “So what? What are you going to do about it?”
The air hung heavy between us with nothing but the sound of our languid breaths, our chests heaving. Our eyes burned into one another until we couldn’t stop ourselves a second longer.
His hands shot up around my head, his fingers digging into the back of my hair as he tilted my face back and thrusted his lips against mine. His tongue slipped between my lips, and I could taste the coffee and bourbon in his mouth. My leg instinctively lifted and wrapped around him, drawing him in closer with an urgency. His bulge pressed against me—teasing me with what he had in store for me.
As our mouths collided again and again, with his tongue rolling over mind, his hands kneaded into my thighs and hiked my skirt up with them as they went—giving him full access to the bare skin that was hidden underneath. And did he ever take advantage. I had never felt so desired through nothing more than the touch of two hands on my body. He left me with no room to mistake how badly he wanted me…which made the fifteen-year-old me inside want to cry out with pride.
Current day twenty-five-year-old me did cry out, but it was muffled against his kiss. My god, this was finally happening. My fantasy was finally coming true. I would have pinched myself, but Jordan’s tight, clenching grip was doing enough of that for both of us.
“Fuck, I was trying so hard not to give into this,” he growled against my lips.
“But you want it,” I murmured. “And so do I.”
I kissed him with a fervor that would leave no question as to just how much I wanted him or this.
“I don’t want it,” he sighed. “I need it. Now.”
The growl in his voice pulled a whimper from my lips as our kiss somehow deepened…even though I didn’t think that was possible. This was what I had been missing.
Our bodies fumbled from the wall to the table until I felt my feet lift off the ground. His muscular arms handled the weight of my whole body like I was a feather, moving me exactly how he wanted me. I stretched back into the same position I had tried to seduce him with earlier, unsuccessfully. But was it ever working now. He shoved
