"Right," she called from behind me. "Let me grab my notebook so I can take life lessons from the guy who doesn't think he can learn anything from anyone."
I unlocked the outer door and then the door into the vestibule, not bothering to hold either for Sara because she didn't need my help with a damn thing.
"It's funny how you're hung up on me being inflexible when it sounds like you could learn a few things yourself. Lesson one: you don't have to scream at people all the time," I said.
The doors banged shut behind her, leaving us once again trapped in this reckless space where the walls seemed to curl inward and the dim light collapsed over us.
"I bet I should smile more. Right? That would help, wouldn't it? Smiling and nodding and letting the men tell me how irrelevant my specialty is to their work."
I whirled around to face her even though I should've sprinted up the stairs and barricaded myself in my apartment. Stepped closer. "You know for a fucking fact that isn't true."
She held out a hand, but instead of using it to stop me, she curled it around the lapel of my coat. "And you know for a fucking fact you're guilty of exactly that so explain to me—"
Once again, I did not think.
I just shoved a hand into her hair and brought her mouth to mine. It took all of a second for her to grab the front of my coat and jerk me closer. If I hadn't been busy getting drunk off the taste of her, I would've laughed because she could not stand to lose the upper hand for a second. Not unless I drove her all the way out of her mind and obliterated any question as to who was in control.
And I hated that I knew this about her. I didn't want to walk around knowing how to push the right buttons so she could behereand not running in the eighty-five different directions in her mind. I didn't need to know anything about her buttons or her mind or—oh, fuck, I just wanted her out of these clothes. That was it. That was all I cared about.
I pushed her bag off her shoulder, pulled open her coat, pressed her spine to the panel of her door. "You're not so terrible when you shut up for a second," I said into her neck.
"If you're expecting some kind of reciprocal concession, you've come to the wrong place."
I ran a hand down the plump length of her thigh until I reached her knee, and hitched her leg high on my hip. I rocked against her center, my shaft ready to tear through my trousers.
Here we go for another round with my favorite mistake.
To her strangled moan, I said, "I think I'm in the right place."
She dropped her chin to her chest as another breath rushed out of her. "Your arrogance is suffocating."
I closed my hand over hers, prying the keys from her fingers. "Am I opening this door, Shap? Or am I taking my smugness"—I ground against her for some cruel emphasis—"home?"
"I prefer to be alone." She bowed toward me every time I rocked against her, as I stole and sucked and bit her lips.
I dragged the key ring over the tight bud of her nip, back and forth in a lazy rhythm. "I'm sure you do. It must be damn hard to find anyone who can even scrape the bottom of your exacting standards. But I think you like being alone with me."
"I can't decide if you're an idiot or a jackass," she mused.
I caught that nipple between my fingers and gave it a rough twist. "Why not both?"
"You're not that self-destructive."
I dipped my head to meet her gaze. "What the fuck does this look like to you?"
She blinked away but tugged hard on my coat, keeping me close. "We can't keep doing this."
I stole her lips again, kissing her hard and a little mean. She was right but I didn't want to stop. Not yet.
"Just this once," she whispered. "This is the last time."
"Good. I can't wait to get rid of you."
She slid her hand down my chest, over my torso, and past my belt to grip my cock through my trousers. "I despise you."
"All I want is to get you out of my system once and for all, tiny tornado."
Finally, she lifted her gaze to mine, her eyes narrowed. She went on stroking me while I teased her nipple and I knew we could do this all night. We could torture each other until time ran out—which wasn't even the most perverse part of this. It was that I craved this fucked-up hall foreplay and everything that followed it as much as I resented it.
