Page 11

Her smile dissipates as she shoots me a look. “He’s the only non-asshole in this apartment, so.”

“Ah. So I’m sure it’s just Purrgood you came over to see, right?” I step around her to lean against the back of the couch. “Should I leave you two alone?”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” she grumbles as she straightens.

My eyes move over her rounded hips, which look soft even in her tight pencil skirt, my fingers twitching at the memory of how they feel underneath. “You know exactly what you’re doing here.”

“I don’t,” she huffs, crossing her arms again. “It’s such a bad idea.”

She doesn’t even realize, I think, the way she’s gravitating closer—like her brain and her body aren’t on the same wavelength when it comes to me. She’s near enough now that it makes it easy to reach out and graze my fingertips against the material stretched over the outside of her thigh, feeling her shiver under my touch.

“Sometimes the worst ideas feel best,” I murmur.

It’s almost imperceptible, the shift in her attitude—but I notice her shoulders relaxing, and the tight lines on her brow begin to smooth as her lips part. Her throat moves with a swallow as I let my palm rest against her hip, coaxing her closer. This is the part that makes all her barbs worth it. When she forgets she hates me and gives in to the electric pull that lingers between us.

“I said I wouldn’t do this again,” she says.

I can feel the tops of her thighs brush against mine; she’s so close now that I could lean forward just a little and press my mouth to hers. “And yet here you are.”

“I really fucking hate you, Ezra.”

It really does have to be some sort of psychosis, the way that makes me smile. “I know, Dani.”

My lips ghost against hers, and the spark between us lights up like a match—her hands shoving into my hair and her body pressing into mine as she tugs me impossibly closer. Everything between us is always rough and rushed, but I like that too. I like knowing I can ruffle Danica Pierce’s feathers, this prickly woman who takes no shit.

But she’s far from prickly when she’s with me like this.

I let my hand slide up her spine until I can cup the back of her neck, tilting my head to sweep my tongue into her mouth as she lets out a soft sound that makes my cock ache. Her long black hair is silky as I plunge my fingers into it, and I close my fist to muss it, the need to mess up her perfect poise like a drug in my veins.

“Couch,” she breathes into my mouth.

I duck my head to swirl my tongue over the pulse at her throat. “I could do so much more to you in my bed.”

“That’s not what we do,” she huffs.

Which is true, since she refuses to let me have her anywhere that might suggest this is anything more than it is, but you can’t blame a guy for trying. The thought of her naked in my sheets is a tempting one.

She’s unbuttoning her blouse as I lead her around the couch, her mouth never leaving mine as I fumble with the zipper of her skirt to shove it over her hips. She drops to the couch cushions when I give her a gentle shove, roughly popping open the button of my jeans as she watches. She won’t look me in the eye; she never does when we’re together like this. Almost like she can convince herself she’s here with someone else and not the person shedecided was a pretentious asshole within five seconds of meeting him. Not that I can blame her, since it’s true, but still.

My cock is already hard and straining against my black boxer briefs as I shove at my jeans, watching her fingers slide over the thin material of her white lace bra, which is sheer enough to give me a peek at her nipples. My mouth waters as I kick my jeans off, because I know exactly what they taste like.

“Take your bra off,” I grate out, palming my cock through my underwear to give myself a second of relief before reaching for the hem of my shirt to pull it up and over my head.

Dani’s eyes are still trained between my legs, scowling now. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Should I ask nicely?” I drop to my knees, running my hands up the insides of her thighs. She watches the path they take, her chest rising and falling more roughly now. “Or do you just like it better when I do it for you?”

“Fuck you,” she mumbles.

So prickly. I grin anyway. “I plan to.”

Her head falls back when my hand splays wide over her hip, my thumb dipping between her legs to tease her through the thin fabric of her underwear. Part of me wants to gloat when I find it already wet; she can pretend she hates me all she wants, but shelovesthis.

“Maybe I should start here instead,” I drawl. “You’re always more agreeable after you’ve come on my tongue.”

I see her teeth sink into the soft flesh of her lower lip, and I keep my eyes on what I can still see of her face as I lean in to press my tongue where my thumb just was, tasting her through the material.

“Ah.”