Page 31 of Try Me

“I’ll bet we can get it done in under a half hour if you—” I was going to sayif you stop moving like a grandma, but the rest of the sentence flew away when Mark touched my shoulder to stop me.

All week in the office, I’d been tense, holding my breath until he walked in in the mornings, noting how the cocksure gait to his desk made the corners of my mouth instinctively tug upward, or how he bantered with Houston and Liza, watching her gradually give in to his boy-next-door charm. But there was none of that casual aloofness right now, and I was tense for a different reason altogether. My insides coiled tightly, and I felt every inch of space that diminished between us.

Mark’s gaze moved slowly over my face as he licked his lips.

I hadn’t resisted the touch. I didn’t resist when he slid his hand from my shoulder to splay over my chest.

He made an aggravated noise, closed his eyes briefly, then exhaled. “You were fucking with me that night. When we met up after Nate’s, I mean. I know that. I know what you were doing. You didn’t want to walk away either, though. I know that, too.”

“Maybe,” I replied, and he scoffed. Fuck, he was sexy when he was flustered. I kept my arms slack at my sides, the metal cabinet cool against my suddenly feverish skin. I was afraid any move might scare him off, and I didn’t want to scare him off right now. I wanted him to stay right where he was, the masculine scent of his aftershave filling my nose, the heat of his body closing in on me. “What do you want, Farrow?”

“I want to finish what you started that night.”

I wanted to tell Mark he was wrong about whenithad started, but instead I let go of the files I was carrying, heard them hit the floor with a soft whoosh of papers scattering as I reached for his tie and ran my thumb down the length of it, the backs of my knuckles skimming over his abdomen, feeling the hard, responsive flex of muscles as he sucked in a breath and pressed closer.

He glanced down at the tie, then up at me from beneath his lashes. “Like it? I wore it just for you.” His tone said it was a tease. His eyes suggested otherwise.

I let my hand fall back to my side. “If you want it, you make the first move.”

I didn’t think he would, but if we were going to continue this chess match of wills, I wanted to see what Mark’s opening gambit would be.

First came a grunt, frustration in the way his brows pulled together, like he thought I’d jump at the chance and had to recalibrate because I hadn’t.

I had to fight back a smile, certain he was about to whirl around and stalk off in frustration.

But then he moved his hand from my chest to graze over my throat, along my chin, index finger reaching out to trace the curve of my lip, one corner to the other. He pressed down on the center and leaned forward, tongue slowly mapping the same path before flicking gently, teasingly at the seam. It took Herculean effort to suppress the shiver that prickled under my skin and wanted to be a full body shudder. I’d been expecting something violent and sloppy. Needy and uncouth. Maybe even a little savage. I would’ve liked that, too. But this was pleasure in concentrated points. Focused and intense. My dick throbbed with interest as he slipped his tongue inside my mouth and ran it along mine, coaxing and way too fucking sensual.

Definitely not the way I’d expected him to kiss.

Fuck if I could find the willpower to put up an argument about it, though. Mark’s lips were too fucking warm, his tongue too velvety on mine, and he felt too fucking good against me, all gym-honed muscle and hard lines.

And I’d waited way too damn long to have him like this.

“Shit,” I whispered, as Mark sucked my lower lip and clamped down lightly. Everything about the kiss was soft, smooth heat. Confident, too. He knew he was a good kisser, I could tell. Had he been mastering the Kama Sutra the last three years? Why did it feel so fucking good?

I arched my head back as his lips moved over my throat, down my jaw, tracing, teasing, and nipping my skin until arousal rang through every goddamn cell in my body.

“Fuck.” I broke away abruptly as the realization dawned. “I’m onto you, asshole.” He was going to leave me high and dry the way I’d left him the other night.

The sharp chuckle that followed all but confirmed it. Grabbing Mark’s shoulders, I spun him around, reversing our positions.

The crazy thing was, he let me. Didn’t put up even minimal resistance, though his eyes widened as I pressed him into the cabinet.

I slid my hand along his thigh, the fabric of his pants catching against my calluses, and palmed his hard cock through them. His pulse jumped in his throat, all fired up, and his hips rolled against the loose grip, seeking friction.

He wasn’t gonna get it, though. Not yet.

“Have you ever been with another guy?” I tilted my head back, eyeing him, ready to call him on any bullshit he might entertain tossing my way.

“Are you asking me something that’s none of your goddamn business?” Mark threw my earlier words back at me, breath puffing against my cheek as he chuckled airily.

My primal lizard hindbrain had asked the question. The one that wanted to get possessive, that sought some kind of pleasure—vindictive or not—out of him saying I was the only one. I wasn’t actually expecting an answer, but he gave it a second later, all on that same rush of air. Light, breathless.

“Cam and I kissed once when we were hammered. That’s it.”

I guess it wasn’t that hard to believe. Mark fell in line with expectations. It was what he did. But still. “No secret fraternity shenanigans?” I cocked a brow.

This time his laughter was a deeply amused rumble. “No. Jesus. It’s a regular frat, not a Pornhub video.”