“I think you could destroy me, Brock,” she answered him honestly. There was no point in lying. “I’ve spent six years paying for one mistake. I don’t want to pay for another.”
“And I waited for six years for you to admit to wanting me.” His voice lowered, husky and filled with desires she didn’t even want to guess at. “I don’t want to settle for just one night, Sarah.”
She couldn’t hold his gaze. Pain seized her heart when she saw the wanting in his eyes, the bleak acceptance that she was turning him away.
“One night is all I had to give, Brock,” she whispered, standing stiff. Still.
He sighed roughly, dragging his hands through his hair in a gesture of frustration.
“I won’t accept that. You won’t even let me explain, Sarah. There are things you don’t know.”
“And they won’t change my mind.” She didn’t want to know why she wanted to weep at the expression in his eyes. “I told you. It’s more than I can handle. If I had known you waited for me. If I had known what you wanted from me. I wouldn’t have gone to that bar.”
“Then I would have come to you.” He rose from his chair, stepping close, ignoring her when she stepped back nervously. “I was tired of waiting, Sarah.”
“I was married. You didn’t even know about the divorce.” Censure edged her words, despite her determination to hold it inside.
He smiled, a small, crooked little quirk of his lips that broke her heart. That was his smile, and there was no joy in the gesture.
“It didn’t matter,” he whispered, coming around behind her, bending close so his breath feathered her ear. “I didn’t care anymore, Sarah. Need for you was killing me.”
“And you’ve had me.” She gasped as the clip holding her hair up was released, allowing the thick strands to fall to her shoulders. “Stop that, Brock.”
“I haven’t had enough, Sarah,” he growled, his hands enclosing her hips.
Sarah breathed out in a harsh motion. His hands at her waist were hard and warm. His breath at her ear sent shivers over her skin. She wanted to turn to him so desperately she could barely stop herself from doing it.
“It has to be enough.” She fought for breath, her hands clasping his. She intended on pushing him away in just a minute.
“Was it enough for you?” She felt his erection at her back as he moved against her. “Don’t you want to scream again, Sarah? Explode around me while I thrust my cock deep in your tight little cunt. Feel me come inside you. I want to come inside you, Sarah. I want to feel you milking me, squeezing my cock as we explode together.”
Her face flamed, her vagina ached.
“No,” she lied.
He chuckled, the sound a velvet rasp at her ear.
“Lying to me or to yourself, baby?” he asked her, gentle, soft, his voice like a caress over her body as his fingers began to smooth over her waist.
Sarah hated the light, gray-blue silk of her dress that kept his fingers from touching her skin.
“This isn’t going to work.” She gasped for breath. Damn him, why didn’t she have any resistance against him? “You know it won’t, Brock. You know why.”
“I know you won’t let me talk to you.” His teeth nipped at the skin of her neck in an erotic bite.
Sarah whimpered. It felt so good. She wanted more.
He bit her again, experimentally. A shudder wracked her body, her muscles weakened, flowing against him.
“Sarah, I want you. Bad.” He licked the small wound, whispering against her skin. “Let me inside you again. Let me show you how much I need you.”
She could feel how much he needed her. His cock throbbed beneath his jeans, searing into her lower back. His hands moved along her waist as he pulled her behind the high counter separating her work area from the main library.
“Brock,” she protested as he turned her in his arms, lifting her to the desk as he moved quickly between her thighs.
She stared up at him, wide-eyed, uncertain in the face of such strong sexual intent.
“You’re so beautiful.” His hands clasped her face, his head lowering, his lips sipping at hers. “You make me crazy, Sarah, remembering how hot and wet you get for me. How your screams echo around me.”