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Boy, this guy is something else. What a pair of balls. First he demands I sneak him out through the back door like a criminal. Like a shark. Then, he won’t tell me what the hell’s going on.
And now he’s looking at me like he’s been looking at me for the past hour at least. Like he wants more from me than a drink.
As soon as I shut the door behind me, I knew what an epic mistake I’d made. The tenor of the space between us changed immediately. Things were already charged. They had been all night long. But now, it’s electric. And even though I know for sure this guy’s trouble, my body seems to not care at all.
Typical.
All I can think about now is the fact that we’re in here alone.
Where we could touch each other anywhere we like.
And no one would be the wiser.
Because no one knows we’re in here. And people hardly ever come down this hall. And the door locks.
But no. No, no, no.
Smart girls do not fool around with sharks.
Though, I do feel fairly confident he’s being straight with me about the “this isn’t anything illegal” thing. None of this feels dangerous. He’s got my curiosity riled more than anything. I do want to know what the hell is going on, but he’s right. Am I really entitled to know?
Still, I have to bust his balls a little bit.
“After a stunt like that, I don’t know what to think of you.”
But he’s wearing that sexy grin and the aforementioned stunt is feeling less and less important all the time. He takes a few steps closer and the heat in my body kicks up even more.
“You’re wondering if you can trust me.”
I grin. “No. I know I can’t trust you.”
“Probably not a bad call.”
He’s still coming closer though. Our eyes lock on each other and our smiles slowly slip. His expression is growing more heated as he watches me. I know mine is, too. The space between our bodies is crackling like a live wire.
I realize I’m blocking the door, sort of. “I’m not keeping you here,” I inform him.
His eyes drop to my lips. “I’m not keeping you here, either.”
“I’m on break.”
One eyebrow lifts slightly. “Are you now?”
Neither one of us moves.
“Fifteen minutes.”
Meaning, we’d better be quick. I have customers waiting out there.
That thought alone should be enough to bring me to my senses, but it doesn’t. It only makes me want this insane thing that I want even more quickly.
“Fifteen minutes, huh?” He draws closer to me, watching me like a tiger on the prowl.
He is so impossibly goddamned sexy. And I want him to keep bringing it. I don’t care. All I can think about is the way his touch felt on my hip and on my arm. I want more of it.
I’ve been in this sort of situation before, where it’s only about one thing. No need to sugarcoat things. This is pure, unfiltered lust.
But I have never felt lust to this degree. Maybe it’s just because it’s been so long? I don’t know, but I feel I will go mad if he doesn’t satisfy my need for him.
Our bodies inch closer and closer until there is barely any space between us. “What are you planning on doing with your fifteen minutes?”
My skin is dancing in anticipation. I’m throbbing and wet. I don’t have to wonder what he will do to me if I give him the go ahead. I know.
“I don’t usually do this.” My eyes are on his lips, which look full and soft next to the hint of stubble on his chin.
“Don’t do what?”
This, I think. Flirt with the hot guy in my section. Lead him to a secluded room where we’re unlikely to be interrupted. Think about how badly I want to climb him even though I’ve known him for less than two hours.
I don’t do any of this.
I don’t do what I’m doing now, leaning in slightly, inviting him, wondering why this doesn’t feel more wrong than it does.
