But it was difficult to ignore hard, sliding muscles sheathed in tattooed skin. He grunted in irritation and dragged her into his lap, then caught her wrist and twisted it up behind her back so suddenly it made her gasp in pain.
Faster than she could react, his mouth lowered to hers, his kiss hot and insistent, as though touching her had snapped the fragile thread holding back the beast. He devoured her mouth, and she felt his cock harden against her ass cheek. His free hand slid up inside her borrowed T-shirt and he cupped the weight of her breast in his palm, his fingers plucking roughly at the barbell that pierced her nipple.
She moaned into his mouth, ready for anything he had in mind.
So, so fucking ready.
Only his jeans and her panties were keeping their bare flesh from each other, her skirt rucked up around her hips. She squirmed, trying to find some relief against his rough denim.
“You’re already fucking wet for me,” he snarled before taking her mouth again.
Damn it. He could feel her soaking his jeans?
Like the man needed an ego boost?
He broke the kiss and gasped, like a diver breaking the surface of the water. He stood then, dumping her off his lap, but then caught her arm before she could hit the floor.
“Fuck, Arabella,” he groaned, glaring down at her as she regained her feet.
“Anytime.”
He didn’t loosen his grip on her arm, and they stared at each other for a long, long moment before he let go and they stepped apart. Damn, the man was huge. She forgot sometimes how tall and broad he was up close. The nipple he’d been teasing ached for him almost as much as her heart.
“Not going to happen—not unless you’re willing to give me what I want.”
“Well then, I guess we’re at an impasse.”
“Still.”
“Still.” She was going to make a joke about having blue balls, but she was too flustered and hot to make light of things. Too vulnerable and too frustrated with him.
“I just needed to talk,” he said defensively.
She let her gaze slide down to the bulge in his jeans. “Maybe the next time you want to talk to me alone like this you should blow off some steam first.”
&
nbsp; “I thought I did,” he admitted. “This can’t keep happening.”
“Fuck me again,” she almost begged. “We need to get this out of our systems.”
“No. It’ll just make things worse.”
Silence fell between them, as awkward as usual.
“I miss you,” she said, her eyes pricking with tears she refused to shed.
“I miss you more,” he replied, opening the door to his office with an air of finality and regret. “Get out.”
She left the rude bastard standing in the doorway, not looking back even long enough to swear at him or remind him that she hadn’t been the one who’d crossed the line tonight.
And she’d be keeping his damned shirt too.
Chapter Two
Grant left his office as soon as his humiliating high school-esque boner had subsided. He made his way around back to his apartment without so much as saying good-bye to anyone. If anyone was looking for him, they all knew where he lived.
The apartment behind the club had been a strange, late addition to the building, originally built as a storage space. Early on, after they’d bought the property, he’d had it upgraded with insulation and a bathroom with a shower. There was no kitchen, but he had a fridge, a hot plate, and a sink.