“You like that idea,” he said, “don’t you?” And wasn’t that the biggest fucking surprise and the hottest rush?
Her gaze darted away. “I...I don’t know. I can’t think...”
“Then imagine”—he told her, pushing harder, half hoping she shoved him off and walked away, half hoping she told him to take her right then—“because I talk as dirty as I fight, and I fuck has hard as I play.”
She breathed a moan and her eyelids slid closed.
But it was the feel of her body softening, of the way she started moving with him, not against him, that finally blocked his ability to think.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned, relishing that moment of surrender. “So...fucking...sweet. Feel it?” he whispered. “Feel how good it is? Imagine how much better it could be. Naked. Skin on skin.”
She made the slightest shake of her head. “I...wouldn’t know what to do with you.”
He lifted a hand to her jaw and tilted her head back until she opened her eyes to his. “Yes. You would. You’re already doing it.” He let his gaze slide to her mouth. “Fuck, I want to taste you.”
“Grant...” she said in that voice that made him want to rip her clothes off. “I’m not... I can’t...”
“Stop talking yourself out of it and just fucking kiss me already.”
But Grant couldn’t wait anymore. He slid his hand from her jaw, around the back of her neck and pulled her in. Too rough. Too harsh. Too fast. The way he did everything in life.
Faith gasped and Grant took the moment to dive in. He kissed her hard. Kept her lips open with the pressure so he could stroke his tongue into her hot mouth and taste her, the way he’d wanted to taste her since she’d met his eyes at the bar with that sassy smirk.
A mewl rose from her throat and fueled Grant’s fire. He pushed his hand into her hair and closed his fingers to keep her there, keep her mouth open so he could taste her and taste her and taste her. Knowing the second he let go, she’d scamper away and never come near him again.
Part of him wanted that. More than he realized until now. Because she tasted like heat and chocolate. Her mouth was sweet and soft and plump. And suddenly, her mouth wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Wanted his mouth on skin. Wanted skin on skin. Wanted his mouth on her pussy, fucking her the way he was tasting her.
And then she kissed him back. She leaned into him, her fingers curled into his shirt, her nails scraped his skin and her tongue... God, the tentative way she tasted him back made Grant insane. He growled, tipped his head and demanded more.
A murmur broke into his fantasy. Someone calling Faith’s name. Only it wasn’t him—his mouth was way too busy to talk.
Faith moaned and turned her head, breaking the kiss. She reached out and slapped at the lock on the door, then exhaled and pressed her face against Grant’s neck.
He opened the hand in her hair, and cradled her head, feeling the silkiness of the strands for the first time.
“Faith?” The male voice, clear and much closer now, jolted Grant back to reality. He lifted his head and looked toward the door.
The handle turned and Faith tried to pull away like a guilty kid. But Grant held on while the knob jerked back and forth, and the door remained closed.
“What’s up, Joe?” Faith said.
“You okay?”
The what’s-going-on tone in his voice made Grant dart a look at Faith. She met Grant’s gaze.
And smiled. A small, secretive, embarrassed little smile that knocked Grant’s heart on its ass.
“Yeah,” she said, lifting her fingers to her mouth where her lips were reddened and puffy from Grant’s kiss. A sight that only made him hungrier. “You know, just one of those days.”
“Oh.” Pause. “Okay.” Pause. “Do you want me to have the Makita rep come back after the holidays?”
She stiffened and turned her attention to the door. When Grant didn’t let her go, she closed her eyes. “No.” She winced. “Can you have him wait? I just need a minute.”
“Of course. No problem.”
They stood there a long moment, their bodies pressed together, until all auditory signs of Joe were gone. Then she lifted her gaze to Grant. And now guilt filled the pretty blue irises. “I’m sorry.”
He knew instantly she was talking about more than the interruption. And his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.