Page 68 of Hard to Hold

“This.” I rub my thumb back and forth over her bottom lip. “Us.”

She’s so damn close. Her lips. That body.

“You mean our business partnership?” She lifts a lone brow and smiles.

“Nothing about us says business. Not our first meeting. Not our first fuck. And definitely not that kiss earlier.”

I think I catch a wince when I mention kissing. Interesting. The iron princess let down her guard earlier, let me see a different side of her, and now it’s firmly back in place.

Can’t say I mind one bit though.

This—the self-confidence, the forwardness—isn’t a hardship to be on the other end of.

“Then what exactly does this,” she says, and mimics the same motion I made between the two of us, “mean?”

“That you want me just as much as I want you.”

“That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?” she asks while her fingertip trails a path along the midline of my chest.

My muscles flex in reaction. My dick grows hard. And when she keeps going south, I grab her wrist and hold it still.

She wants to play this game? Tease and tempt?

I’m more than willing.

“You and I both know that’s a lie,” I say in a whisper. As I kiss the inside of the wrist I’m holding, my chuckle carries through the night. “You know as well as I do that you want me again, Lennox. That you see me, that you watch me, and when you do, your body aches and your pussy grows wet, and all you can think about is how I taste. How I feel.” I lean in and tug on her earlobe gently, her back arching when I do. “Don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.” I lean back, and those eyes of hers flutter open to meet mine. “What are you going to do about it?”

“You’re trouble, you know that?” she says, but her eyes dart to my lips and then back up.

“You’re right. I am. And drama follows me as part of the package, but we’re not talking about that. We’re talking about pleasure. About release. About the confidence to know what you want and to take it without caring that you do.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.” A smile toys at the corner of my mouth.

“Hey Rush?” A lick of her own lips.

“Hmm?”

“I thought you were the type of man who takes what he wants.”

Fuck. This woman. This moment. Her dare.

“I am. I do. But, darling, for a woman who keeps telling me no, it’s only fair that I wait for you to say yes.”

Lennox leans in, the heat of her breath hits my ear, and all the blood that isn’t already pooling to my dick, heads there. “Yes.” It’s one murmured word, but it also heralds the sound of my control snapping.

I groan. It’s all I can do, as I pull on her wrist so she steps inside the sauna at my back.

The room is dimly lit with a rope light, which goes around the underside of the benches that span every wall as well as the top where the wall meets the ceiling. The benches are made of hemlock and the front wall is made of glass that you can see out from the inside but that no one can see in.

“Rush, what—”

“Turn around and face the wall, Lennox,” I order, just as she’s about to face me. I know she likes to be in control, so this is either going to unnerve her or turn her on—me taking completely over. “Brace your hands on the back of the wall.”

“What if I told you—”

“Do as you’re told, Lennox.” My words are a warning, and I wait to see what she does. How she reacts.