Two can play the stereotypes game.
He drifts a little closer, and my pulse ticks faster. “Is that what we do?” His voice is low, and his eyes drop to my lips.
My voice is softer, higher compared to his. “Isn’t it?”
A slight grin from him, and that humming is back in my veins. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“It’s actually an apology. I underestimated you.”
Now it’s my turn to hesitate. Still, it’s not like I didn’t know Stephen was arrogant. It’s one of the things I love about him.
“Apology accepted.” Reaching out, I trace my finger down the front of his blazer. “Now. Wasn’t that easy? You don’t have to fight with everybody.”
Taking a chance, I put my hand on his chest. It’s firm and warm, and he covers my hand with his. It’s a gentle touch, but it radiates heat to my chest, fanning out into my belly, warming the space between my thighs. I want this so much… I’ve dreamed of it. I know if he’ll let me in, everything will change. He’ll change.
My voice is just above a whisper. “When you look at me like that, I wonder what you’re thinking.”
Our eyes hold, and I know he feels it, this pull between us. My breath stills, and I’m humming with desire.
But he throws on the brakes. “I’m thinking I’ve had enough whiskey.” His tone is level, and he releases my hand, moving away.
I have to stop him.
I can’t lose this moment.
> “What do you want?” I’m sassy, flirting. “Do you even know?”
He stops, giving me the full force of his scowl. “I don’t want a wife in Connecticut, and I definitely don’t need a mistress in the city.”
Closing the distance, I put my hand on his waist this time, sliding it back and forth, working my way lower. “Maybe you need me.”
He stops my downward progress with a strong grip. “You’re playing with fire, Emmy Barton.”
“I’d rather be hot than cold.”
His grip on me tightens, and he pulls me against his chest. I can barely breathe, but I blink up to his lips, slipping my tongue out to touch mine. His erection is against my stomach, and I’m so wet.
“Are you drunk?” His voice is a rough whisper.
“No. Are you?” Stretching higher, I touch my lips to the scratchy stubble of his jaw.
Leaning down, he kisses me fast. His lips shove mine apart, and his tongue invades, finding mine. My knees start to give out, but his arm is around my waist, scooping me up against his chest.
It’s a rough kiss, not kind or gentle, and my fingernails scratch up to his shoulders. A little noise escapes my throat, and he rumbles in response. Heat floods my panties.
Our mouths break apart with a gasp, and his blue eyes are blazing. “Do you want this?”
Nodding, I step back, holding out my hand. “Come with me.”
He hesitates as I go to the glass doors leading to Ethan’s dark bedroom. When I pause and look back, he’s watching me like a predator. His hair is messy from my fingers, and his lips are parted with his breath. He looks like pure sex.
“This way.” I’m holding still, hoping, until…
He follows me inside.
My shirt is ripped open. Stephen doesn’t bother removing my bra. He shoves the cups down under my small breasts, and devours me, pulling a taut nipple into his mouth and giving it a bite, sending electricity straight to my core.