I ease closer, taking note of the closed curtain. “Why do you wear a lab coat?”
This gains his full attention. He closes the laptop and spins the chair around. He’s wary about my questions and demeanor. He should be. His gaze travels over me—my bare legs, wet hair saturating his white shirt, making it nearly transparent over my breasts—and a hard edge frames his features.
His body language states he’s in no mood to play, not after chasing me down in the freezing river. But all we have is this game. One winner, one loser.
And I refuse to lose.
“Because I’m a scientist,” he says curtly.
I fiddle with the top button of his shirt. “But this isn’t a lab with other scientists. It’s just you and me. Who do you wear it for?”
He adjusts his glasses, a maneuver geared to prevent him from staring. “I wear it because it’s who I am.”
As opposed to a kidnapping megalomaniac… I keep that to myself. Instead, I undo the button and let my fingers skim down to the next one. “You’re something else, too,” I say.
Alex crosses his arms, his gaze drops to the exposed skin between my breasts. “Blakely, whatever this is…stop.”
I undo the second button, then the third, letting the shirt fall open. A tease, a taunt. A peek at the bottom swell of my breasts. Alex has stopped trying to avoid looking as he stares openly now.
“You’re lonely, Alex.” I leisurely run my fingers down the seam of his shirt. I stop to undo the last button. “I noticed it out there, while you held me pinned to the ground. I felt your desire to make a connection, to be inside me.” I push the shirt open, giving him the full, unobstructed view of my body. “How long has it been since you’ve been with a woman?”
His breath comes as a sharp intake of air, his gaze dragging over me unhurriedly. “Physical indulgence hasn’t been a priority,” he admits. “I’ve told you before that you’re a beautiful woman—” he meets my eyes “—but it’s only lust, Blakely. What you witnessed out there was just primal, cardinal lust. Nothing more. A normal, basic bodily reaction to stimuli.”
I walk toward him and stop only inches away. “Basic bodily reaction to stimuli,” I repeat as I drop my hand to my thigh and roam upward, touching the tips of my fingers to my sex. He watches intently as I rub myself. “You make it sound so technical and impersonal, detached.”
“With you, it would be,” he fires back.
I straddle my legs on either side of his thighs, placing my hands on his shoulders. “And is that wrong?” I slowly lower myself onto his lap. “I have needs, too. Locked away out here, no one else around to see, or judge.”
Alex turns his head to the side, refusing to look at me, but the rock-hard erection beneath me says everything he won’t. “Blakely…God, stop. Your need to control the situation is manifesting in a physical need to assert dominance.” He takes hold of my wrists and stares into my eyes with a fierce glare. “I’m in control of my urges.”
My arms shackled by his hands, I use it as leverage as I undulate my hips, grinding seductively against that hard want. His mouth parts, eyes filling with dark lust, and I know it won’t take much for Alex to lose control of those tightly wound urges.
“Just a taste then…” I wriggle one hand free and remove his glasses, setting them on the cart behind him. Better if his sight is a bit impaired. Then I lean in and delicately touch my lips to the scratch marks my nails left on the side of his face, my tongue delving out to taste his skin.
I feel his grip loosen on my wrist, and he involuntarily bucks beneath me, some of that control coming undone. “This won’t work,” he says.
I rub harder against him. “It’s working for me…”
With a harsh groan, Alex wrenches my hands between us. “Only because you want something.” Every muscle corded tight, he refuses to surrender.
“I want a release,” I say, driving my point home as I press my breasts against his hands. “I know you’ve thought about it. Bending me over that cot, tearing my panties down and spreading my legs, touching me until I’m dripping wet… Thrusting into me so hard it decimates every ounce of your control.”
His breathing is uneven as he tries to maintain exactly that. “Christ, you’re the personification of Peitho. A pure, unadulterated seductress.”
Moving higher, I lean forward and breathe into his ear, bite down on his earlobe. “You think I’m a goddess?”
His hands go to my hips, fingers digging possessively in to my skin, as he thrusts up against me. “When I first saw you, I swore you were Aphrodite.” One hand slips from my hip and he cups my face, fingers splaying into my wet hair. “But that’s too obvious, too cliché. Peitho hides in the shadows, persuading and manipulating everyone around her like the marionettes she makes them.”
Some foreign response stirs deep within me, and I shift uncomfortably. Alex holds my face, unwilling to let me go. I lick my lips, knowing what that action does to him.
His gaze drops to my mouth, ravenous hunger burning in his liquid blue eyes. His face nears mine, and that strange feeling deep down reacts instinctively. I turn my head and drop a kiss to his neck.
“Don’t give me a necklace, then,” I say, picking up his goddess thread.
This elicits a breathless laugh. “Why am I not surprised you know the myth.”
Curling my fingers at the back of his head, I smile against his neck. “Technically, she’s a force, not a goddess.”