I don’t let go of her, even when she pulls back, trying to put some distance between us.
“Are you sure about that?” I murmur, unable to resist dipping my head down to whisper in her ear, loving the way a little tremor shakes her whole body as my breath grazes her neck.
A pause.
Anticipation.
I smile, knowing where this is headed.
Emilia trails her fingers up my arms, and it feels like fucking sparks of electricity are shooting through my veins. Her hands come to rest on my chest, and she gives me a saucy little grin.
Yep. Hook, line, and sinker.
Then she pushes. Really fucking hard.
Damn, this woman has some fucking strength hidden underneath that tight, little body.
My eyebrows fly up to my hairline. This is a new one. I can honestly say I don’t remember a woman ever pushing me away—literally—so forcefully.
“Is it something I said?” I tease, quickly regaining my composure.
Emilia cocks her head to the side, jutting a hip out and resting a slender hand on it as she stares at me through narrowed eyes.
“I know your type. Not interested.”
Ouch.
“Baby, you know nothing about me.” My smile hasn’t faltered, but what the fuck. I can’t remember the last time a woman was so vocally uninterested.
“I know enough.”
Her eyes trail slowly up and down my body, and there’s no hiding the fact that she’s got me rock-hard and ready to go. And why should I bother hiding it? I know what I’m packing, and I’m fucking proud of it.
It doesn’t escape me when her gaze lingers a bit too long, her pink little tongue darting out to lick her lips.
I want to fucking groan out load at how crazy she’s making me. And this hard-to-get act? Fuck me, because it’s working.
“Tell me,” I say, taking a step closer to her, “what exactly you know.”
I can tell she wants to back away, that me closing the distance between us is making her waver, but she stands her ground, tilting her chin up to pin me with those crystalline eyes.
“You’re an executive.” She purses her lips. “Wall Street, maybe? You work too much. But you make up for it by playing just as hard.”
I smile. Maybe it’s the Armani suit, but so far, she’s right on the money.
“You also aren’t used to being told no.” It’s her turn to smile now, cool and disdainful.
“Nothing wrong with that,” I say, spreading my arms wide, grinning like a fucking fool now because this girl has me pegged. “I know what I want, and I go after it.”
She regards me for a moment, then takes a step toward me, bringing us close enough that all I’d have to do is shift my weight and our bodies would be flush against each other.
“So what do you want…Evan?”
The way she says my name, low, slow, and fuck-me-now levels of sexy, has my cock twitching, begging to be set free and to claim this woman as my own.
I reach up and take a strand of her silky blonde hair and twirl it around my finger before giving it a little tug.
“I want to push you up against that wall over there. I want to reach up under this tiny excuse for a dress and feel how fucking wet you are for me. Then I want to rip your lacy thong right off you and stuff it in your mouth while I make you come all over my fingers. Then I want to make you come all over my face.”