His jaw cracked. “Keep your voice down. This is a place of business, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“How could I? It’s all that matters to you, isn’t it?” She started to whirl away, but she got as far as a half step before he grabbed her elbow and whirled her right back. How he altered her position with such force without hurting her, she couldn’t fathom. “Let me go.”
“Make me.” He drew her up on her heels so they were practically nose to nose. “Speaking of fucking, is that your problem? Do you need me to bend you over this desk until you aren’t so edgy anymore? I told you to call when you needed it.”
God, he could be such an arrogant jack-off. Edgy? She’d show him edgy. “What I need you can’t give me.”
“Try me, Vic.” His breath coasted over her lips and made them part with want. He glanced from her eyes to her mouth and back again. “Right now, I think I could give you plenty.”
“In your office in the middle of the day? With the blinds up? I highly doubt it.”
He had her bent over his desk so fast that she had no chance of countering the move. Then his hand was under her dress and shoving aside her panties. Her shocked gasp burst from her lips, silenced only by the knuckles he pressed against her mouth. She bit him, but she didn’t even leave a mark.
Dammit, she couldn’t even make him bleed.
He didn’t waste time on pleasantries. This was a full-on sensual assault, his fingers on overdrive, his mouth on the back of her neck. Teeth scraping her skin, breath hot on her ear. “Do you see what you do to me? You make me into this, and I should hate it. But I don’t. I want more.” He pressed her down on the blotter with his hand spanning her back, forcing her to widen her stance for him. “Admit you want it, too. You want me, Vic.”
Wasn’t it obvious how much she wanted him? Her body quivered with her longing even as her throat closed around the words she refused to say. This wasn’t about her wanting him. It was about him opening his eyes to all they could be, if he would finally just face the truth.
She shook her head but couldn’t stave off the tingling sensation geysering up inside her as he frantically thrust his fingers between her legs and sucked hard on the sensitive flesh behind her ear. Sparks showered in her vision and her cries escaped against his palm, trapped there so that her hot breath warmed her damp face.
He was on top of her, behind her, surrounding her. Kissing her, holding her still, letting her fly.
She didn’t come so much as break apart, shattering into so many pieces she knew there was no hope of ever collecting them all. Before she’d even sunk down to earth again, he flipped her on her back, looming over her where she laid panting on his desk. He gripped her chin with fingers that smelled of her, his eyes glittering slits of gray.
“That’s real,” he bit out. “If you can’t accept that, if you don’t want that like I do, then get the hell out of my office. And don’t come back.”
She shoved him away, not able to breathe with his heavy weight imprisoning her. He stumbled back as if he was surprised she’d actually demanded that he let her up, then stepped clear as she yanked down her dress.
Her mistake—the latest one—was looking back. His fury and his confusion dragged at her feet like stone anchors, imploring her to stay. She wasn’t her mother and he wasn’t his father, and neither of them were quitters. Running from the one thing she wanted more than her next breath didn’t make any sense. But this wasn’t about love, not for him. He wanted her body. What she wanted went so much deeper she couldn’t accept any pretty substitutes, even if it meant she’d end up alone.
If he’d asked her to stay, if he’d even said her name, anything, she wouldn’t have gone. Just once, she needed him to fight for her. To prove she mattered.
But he just let her walk out the door.
Chapter Fourteen
Cory didn’t tell anyone they’d broken up. He didn’t tell anyone anything at all, not even when his mom commented on Vic’s not coming to the packing party, because he had nothing to say. She’d agreed to be his fake girlfriend and they’d fallen into something very real that apparently didn’t matter one whit to her.
He’d looked into her turbulent brown eyes and he hadn’t seen anything there but the desire to be free. Somehow he’d turned into manacles on her wrists and ankles, and she’d grown tired of chafing at her bonds.
So he’d given her what she wanted: an open door. He hoped it hit her on her fine behind on the way through.
Now he was out a lover, a designer, and his favorite person to fight with. Two of the three were replaceable. The last wasn’t, and never would be. Vicky was the biggest reason he’d looked forward to working on the magazine, even though he hadn’t been able to admit it.