Page 38 of Maneater (The Mavens #1)
I shake my head, not in the mood to argue about the fact that we have many times over insisted that the employee events should be employees only, no guests allowed.
“It’s fine. Come on, Josie.” I stand there waiting for her to move toward me, but she doesn’t. Instead, she stands next to Dax, arms crossed over her chest like a petulant child who is mad that their parent ruined their fun.
It makes me want to drag her into another room, put her over my knee, and spank her.
“Josephine,” I say, jaw tight.
She continues to glare before finally sighing and moving toward me. When she’s close enough to touch, she looks over her shoulder, and her smile beams.
“Two minutes, Dax. Then you owe me a dance.”
Dax fights a smile but nods before I finally take Josie’s hand.
“Let’s go,” I say, the words a deep growl as I fight back the suddenly consuming urge to toss her over my shoulder.
“Rowan—” she starts, but stops as I tug her away from the dance floor, my mind moving through options on what rooms are nearby and empty.
She stumbles a few times in her tall heels before I tuck an arm around her waist and pull her into my side.
The feel of her warmth against me is almost worth the dozen or so eyes following us.
“Rowan,” she tries again once we’re in a quiet hallway, but I’m holding on by a thread of sanity. There’s an empty office right down this hall, and I just need to make it there.
“Not yet,” I say through gritted teeth as my hand reaches into my pocket for the universal keycard that will open the door. The lock gives a satisfying whir and click when I scan the card, and then I’m whipping the door open and pulling Josie inside before closing us in.
Then I’m pressing her against the wall with my body, no longer having any reason not to. Something in me calms at the feel, at having her alone, at her being mine, if only for this moment. That’s when her smile goes wide and cunning, like she knows she just won it all.
“Not jealous, huh?”
I shake my head, unable to fight a smile of my own. “Not even a little.”
“You’re such a fucking liar,” she says with a laugh.
I stare down at her, at her soft, full pink lips, at her wide doe eyes, at the way her chin is tipped up just a hint, waiting for what’s to come.
But I want her to cross the line. I want to get my own tiny win in this game of ours.
“Kiss me,” I order.
“Excuse me?”
“Kiss me.” Then I give her more, a confession of sorts. “Because if I’m the one who breaks, I think I might never stop.”
I feel her body shiver at the promise, and when she looks at me, I think she’s going to do as I asked. Until she smiles.
“Were you jealous?” Her voice is whisper-soft.
“What?”
“Were. You. Jealous? Watching me dance with that man?”
There’s a moment of silence, and I know in my gut that this is the turning point between us. This is the moment where I can either confess the truth and win her, or I can lie and lose her.
And I don’t want to lose Josie.
“I’ve never wanted to hit someone more than I did watching you flirt with him on the fucking CCTV. I’m so fucking lost for you that I’m stalking you, scraping through soundless camera feeds for the smallest snippet of you.”
Her breathing halts, her eyes wide and panicked as she looks over my face, and I lift a hand from where it’s braced on the door, moving a lock of her hair back behind her ear. It’s gentle, a stark contrast to how I actually feel in this moment.
“You were right,” I confess. “Every time I saw you sitting across from some asshole we both know didn’t deserve you, all dressed up and beautiful and way too fucking tempting for your own good, I’d be pissed it wasn’t me.
So yeah. I was jealous tonight. And I was jealous of Jeff on the hike and at the pool bar, and when you were flirting with Horace, and every single time I saw you out with someone who wasn’t me.
Is that what you want me to tell you? Is that?—”
But suddenly, my rant is over, cut short. Because then she’s kissing me.
Somehow, it’s even sweeter than the time in the coatroom, hotter than the time in Dante’s office, because she’s the one taking the reins.
Her fingers are in my hair, tightening her grip to pull me closer to her as I dip to devour her, to match her energy.
We kiss like that for long, hot moments before her tongue slides against my lips, and I take over, a hand moving to her jaw to hold her where I want her.
Her hips start to move, shifting and grinding against where I’m already hard for her, and I move my hand from her jaw to her hip, pulling her further into me.
Her lips move down my neck, tasting and licking and sucking, each kiss going straight to my cock.
“I thought you weren’t going to kiss me again until I spilled some deep-seated secret,” she murmurs against my skin, and I laugh at how I completely forgot about that threat of mine.
“I don’t fucking care if you’re in the CIA right now, Josie, not when the promise of tasting you is fucking suffocating me.”
She moans at my words, and a satisfied smile pulls at my lips.
And in that moment, I know it’s true: I don’t care who she is or what she’s doing here, because in my gut, I know she isn’t here to mess with me or my hotel. I don’t know why she’s here, but right now, I don’t fucking care.