“Yeah. No one believed you.”
“I was about to say I was married to my work, and you”—she jabbed a finger in my direction— “made them believe I was married to you.” She threw up her hands. “What do you think will happen when they find out that’s a lie?”
I shrugged.
“Let me clue you in. They will make him out as the victim and me the villain.”
In my defense, I said, “I was doing you a favor.”
She swallowed, and I waited, feeling as if my next breath hinged on what she said. “You didn’t owe me that kind of favor.”
“Why?” I challenged.
“Because we’re nothing, but…” As she struggled for her next word, I moved in her direction. “Fuck buddies.”
I caged her against the door with nothing but my body. My hands were fisted at my sides as anger bubbled inside me. “Are you sure about that?”
“What would you call it?” she whispered.
I hadn’t defined it yet, though I’d felt whatever it was when I saw her with him. It was the same feeling I’d gotten when she showed up with Anderson in her apartment. It was primal. “I call it not wanting your showing to get bad press with headlines about the woman who thought she was too good for a proposal from her love-struck ex.”
She dismissed my words with a wave. “What about before that? That weird show of masculinity over paintings I know you didn’t buy?”
“I call it not wanting your ex to buy a painting of a woman in bed who looks a lot like you.”
Her eyes grew large and round, confirming she hadn’t figured that out.
I shook my head. “Every man in that room who looked at it looked immediately at you.”
“Her face isn’t shown. You’re overreacting,” she said.
Ignoring her last point, I asked my own question. “Yeah, and what surgery is he doing for you?”
Her eyes narrowed and held mine. “Haven’t you heard of HIPPA? It’s none of your business.”
I smirked—she’d walked right into what I would say and do next. “Hip,” I said as my hand landed on her thigh and pushed the material up to reach that location. “Pussy.” I let my finger slide to her center and over her clit as she sucked in air. “Ass.” I cupped hers with my other hand. “Yes, I’m very familiar with Hip.P.A.” I grinned, proud of my new acronym.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at,” she said with a hitch in her voice.
Lust and temptation warred with her anger. She had no idea that I had a Master’s in seduction.
“Let’s get this straight, I don’t play fair and I damn sure don’t share.”
With a tug, the scrap of fabric between her legs was left in shreds. I pocketed the remnants as I gave her a second to push me away. When she didn’t, I used my free hand to undo my jeans. My cock, up to the challenge, was already swollen for her. I put my hand back on her ass and hiked her up. Her back slid up the wall as she grabbed my shirt in both hands.
If I’d bet on her shoving me away, I would have lost and big. She drew me closer, nails raking on my skin. Her pouty mouth arched up, and I slid her down my shaft, going deep before I took her mouth as hungrily as her pussy had swallowed my cock.
Our kiss was frantic, tinged with rage. We were both still a little angry at each other and it fueled our connection. As light as she was, I couldn’t penetrate as far as I wanted. With Lizzy in my arms, I moved to her desk, my cock still buried inside her. I shoved aside papers, making room for her to lie in the middle.
She glanced over her head as I removed my shirt. It kept getting caught between us and I wouldn’t let that happen. The blinds were partially open, though not wide. Passersby would have to cup their hands against the glass to see past the opening in the slats.
“We should close that,” she said as the words melted in the air from the heat we were creating.
“Give them a show,” I said.
We fucked as if we wanted to kill each other. As I neared climax, I drew my gift from around her neck and over her head, pleased as punch she’d worn it. I pushed the button, bringing the little vibrator to life, and hit it again to rev up the vibrations. I slid it between us and on her clit as I pounded away, and it worked like magic. It wasn’t long before we came together in an explosion of passion.
I lay on her as we panted, trying to catch our breath. I felt the scratches on my back and knew they’d leave marks, if only temporarily.