“Yes, you. You love fighting with me. You love hating me when I call you a manipulative, soulless bitc?—”
She slaps me. It's a shock, but I grew up wrestling with Hollis and our younger siblings, so not only does it barely faze me, it sends a wolfish smile spreading across my face.
"That's right." My voice is pure gravel. "Do it again."
She's breathing harder than she did during the 5K, all flushed and panting and gorgeous. “I hate you.”
“I know you do. And why is that so fucking hot?” Her nostrils flare as I continue. “You sit in this office all day writing your little reports and making your little recommendations, and it's only when you see me that you come alive. That fucking paramedic never made you feel like this. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" I have no idea where this is coming from, but I want it to be true.
“That’s”—she jolts when my hand lands on her hip—“that’s not even close to true.”
“But you wouldn't have met him if not for me, so I bet I know who you were picturing every time you fucked him.” I lean forward and press my mouth to her ear. “You pictured me every time, didn’t you?”
Her head falls backward on a moan as I slip my fingers under the hem of her shirt. Her skin is burning up, and she shudders when I slide my hand over her stomach. It’s a good shudder. A keep-touching-me shudder, so I move lower, hooking my fingers in the waistband of her jeans and keeping my eyes locked on hers as I slide the button free.
"You may have given up this pretty pussy for him, but did he get you this wet, this fast?" I am gambling now, but I don't think I'm going to be disappointed when I finally lower the zipper and slide my hand down the front of her panties. "You date that nice guy, and he leaves you bored. But you catch me going through your files, trying to uncover whatever bullshit you're up to now, and what happens?”
Her only response is a whimper, so I wrap my free hand in her hair and force her face up to mine.
“What happens, CJ?”
Her gaze goes hazy when I tighten my fingers in her soft strands.
“Just nod if you can’t talk,” I command. “Am I going to find you wet for me?”
Her throat works as she swallows; then she gives a tiny up-and-down jerk of her head. It’s the permission I need to seek out her slit, and when I do, I have to lean forward and groan into her shoulder so they can’t hear me in the living room.
“I fucking knew it,” I say in a hushed growl. “You’re so wet it's already coating my hand."
Now she’s the one gasping when I catch her clit between my knuckles and squeeze.
"Am I lying?” I ask. “Or is it true that you’re begging for the man you hate to make you come harder than you ever have?”
"Fuck you, Wyatt," she whispers.
An evil grin crawls across my face. “So you want me to stop?” I start to pull away, but her hand shoots out so she can snag my wrist and hold me in place. Her eyes glitter with loathing and lust and frustration.
“Fuck. You,” she says again. “Go ahead and try. Show me exactly what kind of disappointment the last six years would have been if we’d?—”
I shut her up by spearing her with two fingers, barely biting back a groan at the heat of her. We’ve never even kissed, and somehow it’s both extremely right and extremely wrong that this is the first part of me to be inside her.
“I need you to tell me this is okay,” I breathe into her ear as I pull out and slide back in again. “Tell me how much you want it. How much you want to give it up for the man you’ve fucking hated all these years.”
I press down on her clit and she stutters out a breath, fumbling until she can wrap a fist around the front of my T-shirt. “Do it, Wyatt.” She shakes her head almost helplessly. “I want you to."
So I do, pumping my fingers in and out of her while my thumb circles her clit. When she starts to moan, I clap my free hand over her mouth.
“Better shut the fuck up unless you want them all to know.” I withdraw my fingers slowly, loving the flutter of her lashes as I drag against her tight channel. “Unless you want them to hear. Your best friend and my brother. The other two happy couples out there who haven’t noticed that we both disappeared. Do you want them to know how much you love riding my fingers?”
Fire burns in her eyes, so I shouldn’t be surprised when I feel the bite of her teeth in my palm. I jerk my hand away with an unmanly yelp and resist the urge to check if she broke the skin. It feels like she did, and my cock pulses at the thought of it. Of course this woman would be all fight and fire and violence.
“Like anything you do could make me lose control.” She runs her tongue over her teeth, and I imagine her chasing the taste of my skin with it.
“You sure about that?”
I set out to prove that I’m not the only liar here by pushing back into her and curling my fingers until I find the spot that makes her eyes roll back and her head loll to the side.
“You know, if I wanted to make it really good for you,” I say, “I'd tear this shirt off you and put my mouth right here.” I stroke my free hand over her nipples, where they’re tight and hard against the fabric. She whimpers when I pinch one of the pebbled points.
