Melanie smiled, and seemed to grow in size like a bird fluffing it's feathers. Her steps went slinky, and she glided closer, all her confident, sensual, attention fixed on Connor.
Charlie's heart made a thumping decent into her belly. "You're the DUFF that's what happened." If Melanie hadn't have left the bar would Connor have looked twice at her?
She extended her hand to Connor, and her smile broadened. "You know, I'm not feeling all that safe at the moment. I might be in mortal peril-"
Charlie's stomach churned up her heart. "I'll be back in a minute." She stood without looking back to them. "Need to use the restroom."
She made it to the door before jogging as much as she could in her heels to the bathrooms, and locked herself in a stall.
What had she been thinking kissing him?
At work?
She turned around twice. Hadn't she been just fine in the last year and three and a half months she'd been single?
She gulped, and leaned on the stall wall. Her job should be enough. Who says you need sex or relationships to be fulfilled?
Her last relationship left her not only unfulfilled but shattered.
She ran a hand over her cheek, trying to catch a breath and not throw up. Why the fuck was that stupid comment at the bar, and that jerk she never really liked anyway, making her feel as delicate as a thirteen year old rejected for the first time?
"What did you expect, Charlie? You don't go to an effort anymore. You've let yourself go."
Her eyes burned. This was not the time to start reminiscing about Simon, her ex-boyfriend, who'd blamed cheating on her with her own cousin, on her having new priorities.
But Simon hadn't lied had he?
When Dad had his stroke, she'd stepped up. Didn't have time for team sports, or working out the way she used to. Stopped expending the effort she had before.
Simon moved on with Joyce.
Charlie iced it out under an avalanche of work.
She pulled herself together and returned to her office. If it were safe to enter …
Connor faced away from her-completely alone.
"Where did Melanie go?"
Connor glanced over his shoulder. "She left a file for you and went."
Did she?
What else did she leave behind?
Her number?
Her address?
Her panties?
"If you want to go you should." She rounded her desk, circling wide away from him. "Surely you're entitled to time off, since you've already been stalking me for a month."
"That's not how this works." His voice bristled. "What the fuck is up?"
"You don't have to pretend to be into me." She yanked her handbag open and shoved things inside. Heat flamed in her face. "You sure as hell don't have to kiss me."
His footsteps made fast, hard thuds on the carpet. "Who's pretending?"
"I don't know what game Frank is having you play here, but you won't win."
He grabbed the other side of her handbag and tugged. She gripped it tighter for a moment, but he yanked again and it pulled free. He dumped it on the floor by the desk.
She raised her gaze slowly to him. Her fingertips twitched.
Damn, Frank. Damn, him.
Did they think she was a toy to be wound up and played with?
He cornered her against her desk, his eyes darker than she'd ever seen them.
"I don't play cat and mouse and I sure as shit don't kiss women who don't want it."
Heat spread hotter over her skin. "I don't want anything from you anymore."
Connor's eyes slit. "Liar."
"Why do you keep kissing me?" Her voice rang through the room like a slap.
"You keep asking me that." He inched closer. "Because I fucking want to."
Her back arched against the press of the desk. "Now who's the liar?"
"Do you need me to prove myself?" He leaned closer so his lower body pressed to hers. His cock dug between them, air hissed from his lips. "Just say the word and I'll prove I want to do a hell of a lot more than kiss you, Charlie."
Did he-could he?
She should order him to go. They shouldn't be doing this. She shouldn't want to. Her body flooded with arousal.
"But it won't just be proving myself will it?" His hand moved to her thigh. Through her skirt it seared. "I'd be proving it to you too. Proving that right now while you stand here questioning, suspicious, protecting yourself with lies, you're desperate for me."
Her blood seemed to thicken, getting hot and heavy in her breasts, and between her legs.
"You're so hot I can practically smell it."
She gasped through her nose, for an instant thinking maybe he had some way of scenting the pheromones she must be throwing off like crazy. Because her entire system was going wild-savage and primitive in a way that meant right now of the two of them, she was the barbaric one.
She closed her eyes. "Fucking prove it then."
Only the strangled sound of his breathing filtered between them. She swallowed and opened her eyes. Mistake. Connor's gaze fixed on her. She couldn't help meeting it, couldn't look away, couldn't do anything except fall prey to his scrutiny, to the power he had over her.
That gaze told her one thing-Connor didn't bluff.
He grasped the back of her neck, and hauled her towards him. She turned her face, so his lips only skimmed her cheek.
"Really?" His fingers tightened, and his voice was almost a chuckle. "This is how you want to play it?"
Resistant?
Is that what he meant? He tugged at her ponytail holder and yanked it out, then his hand was buried in her hair.
Yes. She wanted him-wanted this so badly. The resistance was on the inside. Deep inside. Under the arousal, under it all she was scared.
Scared of being rejected. Scared that this was a game.
He yanked on her hair, forced back her face, and there was no choice but to look at him. See his expression thick with desire.
"Sure you want this?"
Her breath rushed fast. She hadn't know this was something she'd like. Hadn't known the way it'd feel to have a man like him grab her roughly, as though he couldn't restrain himself. The desperation, the edge of force he used, as though he'd do anything to have her and couldn't contain the desire.
And it was very freaking validating.
Very freaking hot.
She nodded as far as she could with his fist gripping her hair. He leaned in, his mouth so close but didn't kiss her. Almost as though he punished her for having turned from him. He reached his other hand and grabbed the edge of her skirt and worked it up.
His palm traveled the outside of her thigh, and goosebumps rose up over her skin. "You're going to have to be real, fucking clear. I'm not prepared to misinterpret."
Double checking permission took the teeth out of the fantasy, but it didn't take the bite off the sting in her scalp. Didn't take the edge off his hungry expression.
Didn't make her feel one bit less desired.
She made a sound she couldn't recognize as one she'd make, low and yearning. "Connor, I want this."
He gripped her ass, holding her tight for a moment, before spinning her around. He was right there-behind her. His heat radiated against her legs.
He eased her forward, gently, even though his grip in her hair was tight, until her palms landed flat on her glass desk. Her heart raced. Her insides tightened. He pressed on the small of her back, lowering her until her body rested completely on the desk. She suddenly felt far too vulnerable, far too exposed, bent and waiting, skirt around her hips.
Her breath shook and she closed her eyes.
"Sure you want this? I won't ask again."
The glass cooled her burning cheek and she breathed deeply. "Yes."
She expected him to rip off her underwear, undo his fly and take her hard. Instead his fingers brushed the back of her knees then he caressed her slowly, inching up her thighs. He drew down her panties as though he was unveiling a gift. Air kissed her backside and she bit her lip, not wanting the moan of anticipation to escape.
"Holy shit, baby." He groaned and cupped her ass, squeezing it with both hands. "This ass … you have no idea what I've dreamed of doing to this ass."
Her body shook at his words, her nipples could have cracked the desk. Her ass, she hadn't let a man see naked in over a year-he wanted it.
He ran a hand between her legs and stroked her.
She groaned, pushing off the desk, wanting him to touch her properly.
"Down," he said, and kept control of her hair. "You don't move until I say you can."
She choked back a moan and forced her body flat. His fingers moved between her lips, stroking over her slick, wet sex. She gasped, and turned to rest her forehead against the glass.
"See how I'm keeping my word?" His voice was rich and thick behind her. "Proving what a little liar you are."
His hand moved back to her backside, and he gripped her cheek. "You are so hot for me aren't you?"
"Yeah." But she didn't need to admit anything, because he slid his touch back through the proof of her arousal, and touched her clit. He circled her bundle of nerves until the muscles in the backs of her thighs felt as if they would snap. Her hips ached to move, and to buck.