Tristan had expected her to say no and a few other things, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
He stepped forward and slid his arm around her waist, bringing her flush against his body. Desire spiraled through him, but he pushed it down for now.
“That’s not going to work for me,” he finally said, his voice gruffer than intended.
Surprisingly, Cree didn’t push him away even though their faces were inches apart. It was taking all his self-control not to lower his head and kiss her tempting, red lips. He couldn’t. There was too much at stake to ruin it with temporary pleasure. Instead, he was keeping his eyes on the big prize—her. Having all of her again.
“Cree, it’s either you or nobody.”
Chapter Five
Cree swallowed hard as she glanced into the intense dark eyes of the man she once loved.
Tristan’s nearness was wreaking havoc on her nerves. His familiar scent, his hands on her body, combined with the way her heart rate spiked, made it clear he was still a temptation impossible to ignore.
If either of them moved even an inch, their lips would be touching, and if that happened, there’d be no going back. There was no way she could kiss him and not want more. It had always been like that. He’d been her one and only addiction in life. One that had been almost impossible to break.
From the day they’d met outside of a popular club in Chicago, she’d found Tristan irresistible. She’d always been drawn to him. Their chemistry inside and out of the bedroom was stronger than anything she had ever experienced. Like some type of impenetrable gravitational pull that drew them together with such force.
God help her because she was feeling it now. She wanted to kiss him more than she wanted her next breath. Just a taste.
“I mean it, Cree. I don’t want anyone but you,” Tristan said, and the double-meaning wasn’t lost on her.
And just like that, she felt as if she was being doused with a big bucket of ice water.
She took a giant step back, forcing Tristan’s arm to drop from around her waist.
What the heck? Why’d she let him touch her and breathe the same air as her?
Suddenly she wanted to strangle this infuriating man. He was lucky it wouldn’t be professional for her to wrap her hands around his thick neck and squeeze. But the last thing she needed was to have the media showing up, claiming she killed the future Hall of Famer.
“You are in no position to make demands,” she snapped and gave him a wide berth as she moved to her desk and dropped down into her chair.
There was no way in hell she’d represent him. The nerve of him to think she could just forgive and forget.
“The only reason you’re in my office is because I didn’t want to make a scene in the waiting area. In here, though? I have no problem telling you to go straight to hell. I don’t want you as a client. I don’t even want you breathing the same air as me. As a matter of fact, in case I haven’t made myself clear, I. Don’t. Want. You. Anywhere. Near. Me.”
Tristan sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk and looked as unbothered as usual with her mini rant. Which was another reason why she couldn’t stand him. He was the only person she’d ever met who didn’t buckle under her tirades. Or in this case, her rejection. Instead, he was always tolerant, as if she was a brat, and he was patiently waiting for her to stop with the theatrics. He’d said as much on more than one occasion.
“I’m serious, Tristan,” Cree said with less venom in her tone. “I want nothing to do with you.”
Then she thought about Warren. No doubt the guy was curious about Tristan’s reason for being there, and he probably could feel the tension between them. Even Tristan had noticed the look Warren had given her on his way out the door. A look that said, Don’t mess this up. We want his business.
Yet, Cree had to take care of herself because Tristan was a detriment to her peace of mind… and her heart.
“What happened to your super fly agent who you left me for?” she asked.
Tristan sat back in the chair and stretched out his legs, and Cree didn’t miss the way he winced. Was he still having knee problems?
She would never forget that infamous Sunday when she’d been watching his football game, saw him crash hard to the ground, and not get up. Her heart had stopped in that instance, and she prayed he’d get up.
But when the television cameras zoomed in on him, lying in agony in the end zone, Cree knew it was bad. Excruciating pain marred his handsome face, and it was as if she could feel his agony. That had been one of few times when she wanted to rush to his side and make sure he was all right.
It was then she realized he still meant something to her. That he was still…
Cree shook the rest of that thought out of her head just as Tristan said, “I fired him.”
“Why?” Cree could be mad all she wanted, but she couldn’t stop the curiosity flowing through her.
