“Is that so?”

“Yes.” I drew in a deep breath. “In fact, if this is your way of having a discussion, you can stuff it, Mr. Richards.”

I turned and headed to the door.

The next thing I knew, Jaxson was behind me, spinning me around and crowding me against the wall, his body hot and unyielding.

“Jesus,” he spat. “Gracie, you drive me crazy.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“I keep fucking this up.” He hung his head. “You get close, and I lose all common sense. I do things I would never do—say things I shouldn’t.”

I stayed silent, letting him ramble. I liked the way it felt with him pressed up against me. I could feel his strength and his anger. Both were addictive somehow, and I wasn’t afraid of either. The irritation I had been feeling started to be replaced by a different sort of buzz. One of longing.

“Jesus,” he uttered. “I keep doing this. Last week, spending time with you outside the office. Yesterday, kissing you in the car. Holding your hand. As your boss, I shouldn’t do any of that. Or pass judgment on your life. I didn’t intend that to happen. And today.” He groaned. “Seeing him beside you, chatting you up. I wanted to punch him in the face. What is it about you that messes up my head?”

I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

His intense blue eyes met mine. “I didn’t mean to start an argument, Grace—yesterday or today. You’re right, there is nothing wrong with your outfit. You’re beautiful. And yesterday, my words were born of hating to think of you living in fear—of anything. I wanted to help. But I know it didn’t come across that way.”

His confession disarmed me.

“I apologize for both—my rudeness and my inappropriateness in the car yesterday.”

We were so close, I could feel every solid inch of him. His scent filled my head—citrusy, musky—heady. He was tense, his muscles bunching, his jaw working as our eyes locked and held.

“I liked the car,” I whispered, the words torn from me before I could stop them.

He rested his forehead to mine with a low groan. “Don’t tell me that, Gracie.”

His breath washed over me. Mint and coffee. I could taste it. Taste him. I wanted to taste more.

“I liked the way you told him off today. You made me feel protected.”

“Fuck,” he mumbled, his eyes locked on my mouth.

“I like how you feel this close to me.”

He groaned again, the sound low and desperate.

Exactly the way I was feeling.

“Jaxson,” I murmured.

“What are you doing to me?” he replied, sliding his hand along my shoulder and up my neck, cupping my cheek. “You make me want things I can’t have.”

“Like what?”

“Like feeling your lips underneath mine. Tasting your mouth. Knowing if the heat of it is as addictive as I think it would be.”

“Find out, then.”

He crashed his lips to mine.

And I was lost.

Chapter 7

Jaxson

Her mouth.

Good god, her mouth. One taste of her and I knew I would never have enough. Her lips were soft and warm underneath mine. They opened for me as I pulled her close, and our mouths fused together, as if made to be that way. She draped her arms around my neck, and without a thought, I slid my hands under her ass and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around me, drawing me tight to her body. For a tiny woman, her legs seemed to go on forever—especially in those cursed pants that showed off her spectacular ass to perfection. The ass I was now cupping, stroking, and palming. Gracie moaned, the sound low in her throat as I kissed her deeper, all rational thought long gone. Our tongues glided together, discovering, tasting, going deeper—claiming and possessive, both of us lost to the passion that sizzled around us.

I delved my fingers under the waistband of her pants, up under her silky blouse, feeling the delicate ridges and dips of her spine. The soft warmth of her skin. I used my other hand to fist her beautiful hair, the thick strands smooth and rich on my fingers. I broke from her mouth, running my lips down her throat, up the column of her neck, tugging her earlobe into my mouth and sucking.

“We need to stop,” I mumbled, finding my voice.

“No,” she replied, cupping my jaw and bringing my face back to hers. “Never.”

I stumbled blindly to my chair, sitting down, Gracie now in my lap, straddling my thighs. Her heat pressed down on me. My cock was rock hard, aching, demanding to get closer to her. I groaned while she undulated over me as I fisted her hair and kissed her harder. I slid my hand back under her blouse, trailing my fingers over her, gliding them to her breast, and running a circle over her nipple with my thumb. The nub peaked under my touch, and Gracie moved restlessly over me, her whimper an erotic sound. I found the button and zipper of her waistband, tugging open the material and slipping in my hand. Gracie gasped, rising slightly in the chair, her legs parting farther. I cupped her, teasing her with my finger, groaning as I discovered her. She was slick and warm. Responsive. She threw back her head as I stroked her clit, kissing and biting my way up and down her throat.

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