Page 75 of Hard to Handle

When the sound of the water echoes out of the bathroom, I shimmy out of my jeans in record time and thank fate that I wore some lacy boyshort panties instead of the thong I originally grabbed.

That decision just made my life a whole lot easier.

Or at least I think it did until I enter the bathroom to find him standing to the side of the massive tub, bubbles starting to form in the water, and the lights of the sleeping city twinkling outside the wall of windows the bathtub is positioned in front of.

Hunter glances up, and I’m not going to lie when I say it gives me the slightest thrill to see the hitch in his motion when he sees me standing there in my bra and panties.

“No funny stuff,” I warn as I head toward the tub.

“No worries, Kincade,” he says, but I don’t believe him. “I’m well aware you’re on the straight and narrow.”

“I have to be. It’s my business.”

“What is?” He takes a step toward me. “You being here in my bathroom is business?” He gives a frustrated shake of his head. “It’s always business with you. Every time. It used to not be that way. You used to take every ounce of that pent-up perfect professionalism you wear like a shield of armor and destroy me in bed with it until we were spent. Until we were satisfied. Every damn time. You used to like to walk on the wild side with me. You used to—”

“Not anymore.” I shift my feet, needing to stop his words, the memories I can all but taste, and the poignant ache they create. “I have too much at stake now.”

“And what exactly do you have that’s at stake?” he asks as we stand a few feet apart, eyes warring and bodies wanting.

Too many things.

Way too many things.

My company.

My heart.

My dignity.

He takes a step closer and dips so we’re eye to eye. “What is it, Dekk? What happened to change you? What is it that dimmed your fire?”

You.

The answer pops in my head without any hesitation, and I stagger because how can I say that? How can I think he’s the reason I’ve become cautious when before I would have jumped in with both feet with him without a thought?

“My fire’s still there.” I offer a smile that I don’t think he believes.

“Prove it,” he breathes, as he closes the remaining distance between us. It feels like it’s in slow motion as he reaches out to brush an errant strand of hair off my cheek, and I almost let myself sink into him.

“Whatever,” I say as an out and stride past him toward the tub, simply to avoid his touch, and the dare I can already see him trying to set me up with. Nerves dance beneath the surface as I stare at the world beyond but somehow end up meeting his eyes in our reflection in the glass.

It hits me how much I’m flirting with danger.

In my standing with my clients.

In the reality of my life.

In what the hell I’m doing here in my bra and underwear in Hunter’s room, when I know even if we did do something, he’d wake up in the morning without anything changed when everything would have for me.

He turns the water off but his chuckle at my lack of answer snaps me to the here and now. To the want and the need sparring against the reason and sanity.

I take an even breath and turn to face him and his inflammatory comment.

Walk away and make a stand, Dekk, or stay here and know what’s going to happen.

His hand is on the nape of my neck in an instant and pulls me to him so his mouth meets mine the same time our bodies slam into each other’s.

And every damn thing I felt in the park is magnified times a million.