I stood, the distance between us a dangerously low three feet. Which absolutely did not send my heart ricocheting around my rib cage like a pinball. Nope. Not at all.
That’s when his gaze dropped, just for a split second, taking in my tiny sleep shorts and formfitting tank top. I watched him try not to look, watched him fail spectacularly, and felt a surge of feminine power.
“Picturing Chicago’s biggest playboy, cruising around in a glittery hot-pink kitty mobile?” I tilted my head, all fake sweetness. “Yeah, that’s comedy gold. The internet seems to agree.”
I gestured toward my phone on the coffee table, and his eyes followed the movement before snapping back to mine. A cord of tension stood out in his neck, and when he spoke, his voice had dropped to that low register that made my pulse skip.
“You’re going to pay for this.” He stepped closer, invading my space until I could feel the heat radiating off his body. “And so help me, if my tires are actually ruined, you’ll be even sorrier.”
I gulped.Oh shit. Maybe I went too far. My stomach dropped, my pulse spiking.
I tried to hide it all with a straightening of my spine and arching of my brow. But his lips quirked up slightly, and he was clearly aware that he made me nervous. And, damn it all to hell, he loved every minute of it.
He probably also loved that from this point forward, I would be haunted with anxiety of how he would get back at me. More salt in my coffee? Doubtful. I had gone nuclear with the kitty mobile; chances were he would go nuclear as well.
I couldn’t decide if that thrilled me or terrified me.
Clearly, I should have thought this out more.
What terrified me even more though was how much my body was currently aware of his. His tailored suit clung to his skin like it was kissing it, and as he moved, I could see his muscles flexing beneath his shirt. It definitely didn’t help when he shrugged his jacket off, tossed it on the chair, then began loosening his tie. All while staring. Right. At. Me.
This time, when I gulped, it was because I wondered …
“What are you going to do, spank me?” The words left my mouth when the grouping of brain cells that filtered inappropriate thoughts from escaping my lips went on strike.
His pupils dilated as his gaze raked over my body like he was seriously considering it. Like he was imagining exactly how he’d bend me over his knee, how my skin would feel under his palm.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sunshine?”
Yes.“No.”
He slipped his tie off completely, letting the silk fall to the floor. “Is that what this is about? You like getting me all worked up?”
How could he flip from furious to seductive in the span of thirty seconds? It was like sexual whiplash.
“No.” It was only a half lie.
He saw right through me. Again. Moving closer, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Though his fingers barely grazed my skin, the feel of his touch sent shock waves through my entire system. Instead of pulling away, his hand lingered, his knuckles tracing the line of my jaw with devastating gentleness.
“Liar,” he growled, his voice rough with desire. His thumb moved to brush across my bottom lip, and I couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped. And I swear, my tongue acted of its own accord when it had the brazenness to sweep out and lick his salty skin.
Holy. Hell.
His eyes all about exploded with hunger, and between my franticwhat in the hell are you doing, Dakotathoughts, I could feel my heart racing. Fire traveling down my stomach to the space between my thighs.
“You’re going to pay for what you did to me, Sunshine.”
His thumb was still on my lip, and without thinking, I parted them slightly, inviting his thumb inside. His eyes darkened to midnight.
Especially as I wrapped my lips around him and sucked on the tip.
Look at his Adam’s apple bobbing for dear life.
Did I want him to push me down? Take me right here and now? My body certainly believed so.
Jesus.
Get your head on straight. This is war, not foreplay.
