“Brock, please.” Her hands gripped his, her lips opening, seeking more of the light touches he bestowed.
“Please what, baby?” He licked her lips, making her heart stutter in excitement. “Tell me what you want.”
He pressed his hips against her, grinding his cock in the vee of her thighs.
“You’re taking me over,” she cried out, her hands gripping his shirt now, fighting for strength.
“I want to take you, period,” he growled. “Right here, right now, Sarah.”
“Oh God. Someone will see.” But she couldn’t deny him as his hands pushed her skirt up her thighs, smoothing over her flesh, heating her.
His hands clenched at the bend of her legs.
“Ashamed of me, Sarah?” he asked her, his voice expressionless.
“Of you?” Surprise filled her. “Not you, Brock. Of being seen. Please, I don’t do this. I don’t want everyone seeing me.”
She felt the heat in her face, knowing gossip would go wild. Sarah Tate, seen in the arms of Brock August, which wasn’t that bad. The bad part would be if he were seen taking her.
He moved back fractionally.
“Let me take you home then. Let me make love to you, Sarah.”
He didn’t release her, didn’t give her room to think. His voice pitched low, his expression filled with male arousal, a male plea as old as time.
She wanted to. She wanted to so bad it was a physical ache centered hot and sharp between her thighs, deep inside her body.
“It will only make it worse.” She was desperate to make him see reason. “Don’t you understand, Brock? I can’t accept what you’ll want from me. I can’t do it.”
“You don’t understand, baby.” He ran his fingers over her cheek, his thumb glancing her lips. “ I just want to touch you. Hold you. That’s all I want, Sarah. Just you and me. No one else.”
“What about later?” She pushed away from him. If she didn’t get away from him, she would have no resistance left. “What will you want from me next, Brock?”
She saw what he wanted in his eyes. They darkened at the thought, flaring with a heat that nearly seared her.
“Why are you so scared?” He leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her with those hot eyes. “It seems to me you’re more scared that you’ll want it, Sarah.”
Sarah ignored the hot flare of guilt that surged through her. That wasn’t it, she assured herself. She didn’t want it. And she sure as hell knew she couldn’t h
andle it.
“You’re insane,” she burst out in shock. “That’s not true.”
“I want you to remember one thing, Sarah, and remember it well,” he warned her with pseudo-tenderness. “I didn’t come looking for you. You came looking for me. You gave up the right to deny that you suspected what was coming.”
“I wanted one night,” she protested. “That was all.”
“That’s bullshit.” His hand sliced through the air as he advanced on her once again. “You aren’t a one night stand, Sarah. You never were. I knew that six years ago and I knew it the other night. Don’t start pretending now.”
He pulled her back into his arms, giving her no chance to fight, to protest. His lips came down on hers, his big body backing her against the wall, out of sight of windows or doors as he lifted her against him.
His tongue speared between her lips, tangling with hers as she moaned, nearly mindless with the addictive taste. Her hands clenched at his shoulders, her legs spreading willingly for the hard thigh inserting between it.
“You’re wet,” he accused, raising his head to stare down at her angrily. “So wet it’s already sinking through my jeans, Sarah. Don’t try to tell me you don’t want me.”
Sarah felt tears fill her eyes. Her emotions were in such chaos, her fears filling every part of her. He was forceful, dominant; he would destroy her life if she let him.
“I do want you,” she whispered, feeling a single tear fall down her cheek. “I want you so much I ache with it, Brock. But I’m scared. I’m too scared to face what I know will happen.”