Down on Me (Man of the Month 1)
"You're an idiot, Jen," she whispered to herself. "A Grade-A, one-hundred-percent, award-winning idiot."
"Maybe," a deep voice said from the doorway. "But you're an adorable one."
Reece.
She kept her head down, certain her cheeks were flushed. God knew the rest of her was. The sound of his voice alone had made her skin go hot and her nipples peak. And there was a dangerous throbbing between her thighs.
Best not to lift her head. She'd just keep working, and he'd go away. He was a smart man, after all. Surely, he'd get the hint.
"Jenna." His voice was firm. Commanding. And it cut through her like an electric current leading to all her most private parts. "Dammit, Jenna, look at me."
She obeyed, tilting her chin as she raised her eyes, then inhaled sharply at the sight of him leaning against the doorjamb. The faded jeans that hung low on his hips. His muscles that strained under a vintage Jethro Tull T-shirt. The shirt hid most of his ink, but the art on his ripped biceps and forearms was on full display. Two vibrant sleeves of intertwined leaves, petals, and waves that not only drew her attention but also reminded her of the way he'd held her last night. The strength as he'd pulled her close. The confidence as he'd kissed her hard.
The memory washed over her once again, sparking a wild, liquid heat that burned through her, making her a little crazy. And very, very needy.
Oh, crap.
She looked down again, took a deep breath to steady herself, then lifted her eyes to his face. "You shouldn't be here."
He stepped all the way into the office, then closed the door behind him. And, she noticed, he locked it. "We need to talk."
She made a scoffing sound as she pushed out of her chair and stalked around the desk. "Talk? Maybe you should have thought of that before you accosted me in the parking lot."
"Accosted?" The corner of his mouth rose just slightly. "Is that what I did? I could have sworn it was a rescue."
"You're smiling?" She heard the edge in her voice and was glad about it. She welcomed irritation, even anger. Anything to stifle the burning need that had begun to pulse between her thighs.
"You think this is funny?" She took another step toward him. "Do you know what you've done? What you've destroyed? You and me and Brent--"
"No." The word lashed out, as hard as steel. "We three are together for a lot of things," he said softly. "But Brent's not any part of this."
He'd moved closer as he spoke, and now he was right i
n front of her, so close she could see the pulse beating in his neck.
"And just what is this?" she snapped.
His eyes narrowed, and for a moment she thought he was going to ignore the question. But then his gaze raked over her, the quick inspection somehow more possessive than last night's kiss had been. "I guess that depends on you."
His words surprised her. Considering the nature of that heated glance, she'd almost expected him to take her by the hair and drag her to him caveman style. And it flustered her to realize that part of her truly wanted that. In theory, if not in actual practice.
Confused and frustrated, she shook her head, trying to clear it. "We can't--"
"Why?" He stepped closer, then crooked his finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "Does Brent want you, too? I thought you told me that was all in my imagination."
"It was. It is." Her voice was thick. Husky. And right then the only thing she knew in the whole world was the pressure of his finger burning against her skin. "Reece, please. You can't--"
"Or maybe it's Easton? Is he my competition?"
"I--"
He pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. "If so, then why aren't you still in his bed? Why are you here, alone, thinking of last night with me instead of the rest of the night with him?"
She swallowed. "What makes you so sure I was thinking of you?"
He didn't even bother to answer. Why should he? He knew her well enough to know that he was right. "Tell me," Reece demanded as he trailed his finger along the neckline of the white T-shirt she'd paired with a slim black skirt. "Why aren't you with Easton?"
His fingers brushed the swell of her breast. "Why isn't he touching you? Claiming you?"