“Remember how much fun we had?” I murmur, teasing him with a hum. The same noise I make when I come. Hard.
“Oh … I remember all right,” he says, his voice strenuous. As if he’s trying his best to maintain his composure.
I lean in, pressing my body against his. “I’m yours if you want … now … whenever … in whatever way you want,” I whisper into his ear.
A few seconds pass, and his whole body tenses. Even between his legs.
“Leave.”
I lean back. “You don’t mean that, right?”
Even though his voice is calm and collected, the cold-hearted look on his face is too sharp, even for him. “Don’t make me say it again,” he sneers. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”
“Do it then,” I reply. I’m not afraid of him. “I dare you.”
Suddenly, he grabs both my arms and pins me against the door so hard it almost hurts. Almost. But I like the pain. I like when he gives me everything I shouldn’t want. Everything I shouldn’t crave. Maybe it’s like that for him too.
“You don’t know what you’re asking. Who you’re asking.”
“Then tell me … Who are you?” I ask, not backing down. “Someone who makes girls strip in his office? A dirty hotel manager? Is that it?”
He snorts. “You’ve only just scratched the surface. And that’s as far as it’ll go.”
“Why?” I’m genuinely interested. “I won’t judge you. I actually liked where it was going.”
“I could tell,” he says, gloating. “But you don’t know what you really want, or you wouldn’t be here.”
Really? “I know what I want. I want you to fuck me.”
“No,” he says, and suddenly he twists me around again, smashing me against the door until my face is flat against the wood and my ass presses against his dick.
He’s fully hard.
I’ve never wanted anything more badly than this.
“This?” he murmurs. He grabs my ass, squeezing hard. “You think you want this?”
“Fuck … yes,” I moan when he rubs me.
But then he smacks it hard and covers my mouth with his hand before I can squeal.
He pushes my skirt up and rips down my panties, shoving his fingers into my pussy without asking, without even thinking twice. I can feel him, everywhere, invading me, taking me, owning me.
My breathing is rapid, but so is his. His cock pokes my skin as I gasp for air, for a quick break, which he doesn’t grant. He’s merciless. Quick and completely uncivilized.
I’m not in control anymore. He is.
Panic bubbles up to the surface. Invades my very thoughts until my skin turns red and my eyes grow big.
And then suddenly, his fingers pull out again. Just like that. Disappearing as though it never happened.
“You’re not ready for this,” he mutters. A tear escapes my eye, and he swipes it across my cheek with his thumb. “I don’t do dating. I don’t do repeat fucks.”
He releases me from his grasp, but I’m anything but stable. Swaying against the door, collecting my breath and my panties, I realize what just happened. What he just did. What I asked him to do.
I told him to do whatever he wanted, whenever, wherever. But I wasn’t prepared for the outcome.
It’s exactly what he wanted to prove to me.
That I’m not willing to throw myself into this. Into him. Because I’m afraid of what might happen. Just like he is.
I shake my head, shoving down my skirt to be presentable again. But nothing I do will take away the fact that I feel utterly humiliated … the exact thing that makes me want him so fucking badly.
He’s played me.
“You hate me now,” he says as I glance at him over my shoulder. “Good. Maybe you’ll reconsider coming here again.”
I make a face. “That was cruel.”
“It was a lesson you needed to learn.”
“I didn’t ask you to teach me,” I say.
“And I never asked you to come here, so now we’re even.”
Bitterness overcomes me. “Fuck you.”
I open the door and walk out, slamming it shut behind me before he can say another word. I don’t need this. I don’t need him. And I definitely don’t need the fucking wetness pooling between my legs right now.
Goddamn him and his fingers.
Chapter 11
Kat
The first thing I do when I get home is crack open a bottle of wine and chug it down. No glass. No nothing.
Then I grab my cell phone and call Flynn. I need a time-out, and I know he can give it to me just the way I need it.
“Hey, Flynn,” I mumble when I hear his voice. “Got time?”
“Hey, Kat,” he says. “What’s up?”
I sink into my couch. “Nothing much. Wanna go out?”
He hums. “What, now? Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”
“Right now, I really don’t care,” I say, taking another sip of the wine.
“You’re drinking alone again?” he says, but I don’t like the tone of his voice. “Kat …”