Page 76 of Reveal

Fucking pricks.

She says something and they all laugh, one of them saying loudly, “Come back soon, sweetheart.”

Asshole.

“Vaughn.” I bark her name out across the space, and her head whips my way. Her smile is automatic, but her eyes are confused as she walks toward me. All the men at her back size me up.

“What are you—”

And I don’t care that she’s at work or that I’m a man who doesn’t fucking beg, because the minute she’s within range, my lips are on hers.

She’s startled at first. Then resists momentarily as she remembers where she is and what she’s supposed to be doing. But I slip my tongue between her lips and take just a sliver of what I want from her. A tiny sliver at that.

And just when I think she’s going to give in and let me pull the clip from her hair so I can fist my hand in it and take even more, her palms are pressing against my chest until they break our kiss.

Her breath is ragged, her lips parted, her eyes firing with anger. “What are you doing?”

“Letting everyone know you’re mine.”

She lifts her chin ever so slightly, almost as if to say she isn’t . . . and that lights my temper.

Especially when she drags me from the pod. She doesn’t even touch me either, but the look she levels me with has me following without a word.

And I’m not sure what pisses me off more—the fact she fought my kiss in front of those assholes or that I’m following her without a word.

She stalks her ass down the hallway, and the minute we turn into the next pod that’s empty, her hands are fisted in my shirt, and her lips crash into mine the same time as my back hits the wall.

Her kiss is anger and hunger and irrationality and desperation all combined into one addictive action that drags me under and grabs hold of every ounce of my testosterone.

The heat of her body. The possession of her kiss. The ownership in her touch.

I’m not a man to follow a woman’s lead, but hell, if this is where it ends, I just might follow a bit more often.

And just as thoughts of sliding my fingers up the hem of that skirt to dip inside her wetness begin to own my mind, she pushes against me and tears her mouth from mine.

“Don’t you ever walk into my work and do that to me again.”

Her lips crash back against mine.

“You don’t own me, Lockhart.”

A duel between our tongues.

“They wanted you,” I manage as I grab her ass and squeeze, prompting her to lift her face up so she’s forced to meet my gaze. Her lids are heavy with arousal, her lips swollen, her eyes filled with violent desire.

“A lot of men want me.” The dig of her fingernails. “Just like a lot of women want you.”

She sucks on my tongue, and it causes every goddamn part of me to stand at attention.

“I don’t like it.”

A nip of my lip that has me swearing at the sting.

“Tough.”

“You’re mine,” I say and pull her into me so I can grind against her.

“I’m no one’s.”