Demanding everything.
But as quickly as the spark had ignited, it was snuffed out.
“Stop!” she said, pushing him away. “Damn you, stop! I can’t do this.”
He might have protested otherwise if he hadn’t seen the glint in her eye. The glint of tears.
He stepped back. Where his body had been hot only seconds earlier, it was now ice.
What was he doing?
She wasn’t the only one who couldn’t do this. But she’d gotten to him. She’d gotten to him after everything she’d done.
He was every bit as disgusted with himself as she was. Except she didn’t look disgusted; she looked shaken. Fragile. As if the kiss had destroyed something inside her.
He knew the feeling.
He didn’t want to look at her, but he forced himself to meet her gaze. The tightening in his chest was even worse than he had braced himself for. “I’m sorry.”
She held his stare until he thought he would die from lack of oxygen in his frozen lungs. “I—I...” She stumbled. “I just want to go home.”
The desperation in her voice sent a knife through his ribs. Home wasn’t him anymore. Home was to someone else.
Colt didn’t say anything. He just nodded and returned to the elevator panel. In a few seconds it was going again.
He hit the button for the lobby, and a few moments later he was watching her walk away from him. After what had just happened, it probably should be for the last time. But somehow he knew it wasn’t. There was unfinished business between them, whether either of them wanted to admit it or not. That kiss had just ripped open a scar that wasn’t fully closed.
Twenty-two
Brittany heard the mutter of curses and a few angry huffs behind her as she clambered up the fire escape stairwell to her fifth-floor apartment the next morning. She waited at the top, holding the door open as John rounded the last turn below her with the bulky suitcase they’d retrieved from her building manager.
She smiled. “Everything okay?”
“Peachy,” he said with a grunt, dropping the wheeled duffel to the floor. It landed with a heavythud, which wasn’t surprising, as it must have weighed about seventy-five pounds, thanks to the stack of yellow pages that had been sitting in the mailroom. She’d jammed in as many as she could when he wasn’t looking. “How long did you say that elevator has been on the blitz?”
She shrugged. “A couple weeks. I told you I didn’t mind carrying it. I hope it wasn’t too heavy for you.” She smiled sweetly as he shot her a disgusted glare. “I thought you guys carried big packs when you go...” Seeing his warning glare, she modified her comment to, “To work.”
“Sometimes, but on our backs. But this thing is a pain in the—”
The sound of the elevator chime stopped him. The door opened, and her manager walked out. “I forgot to give you the new key I had made after the break-in,” he said, frowning at the suitcase at the top of the stairs. “Why didn’t you take the elevator?”
“It’s broken,” John replied, although his gaze had slid to hers.
Busted.
“Broken?” the manager repeated with a frown. “I had it replaced last year. It’s practically brand-new.”
Brittany fought a smile—pretty unsuccessfully. “Is that right? I would have sworn it was down last week. But Joe doesn’t mind a little exercise. Do you, Joe?”
Brittany might have had her fun—she hadn’t forgotten his comments about the rocks in her bag—but from the look on John’s face, he was already planning his payback. Wait until he saw the phone books.
Bring it on, Johnny.She could take whatever he dished out. And when his gaze slid hotly and possessively down her body as her manager unlocked the door, she was looking forward to it. A lot.
She’d taken him in her mouth again this morning, waking him slowly and gently with the sensual kiss until he was as big and hard as a spike and straining against the urge to push deeper into her mouth. She’d tortured him with the long, slow sucks and pulls until his body was shaking with need and he started to beg with small pumps of his hips. Only then did she suck him hard and deep, pumping him as fast as he wanted.
Nope, no lessons needed.
But he gave her one anyway in the shower. A lesson in how not to slip when a man had his tongue buried between your legs and you were coming until your legs gave out. Or when he bent you over to brace against the wall while he took you from behind.
