Rock Kiss 02 Rock Hard(49)

He was aware of her staying as quiet and as motionless as a mouse who’d sensed a predator for at least three long minutes before she released her white-knuckled grip on the counter and turned to shakily pick up the half-full glass of juice. When she put it down after emptying it and went as if to exit the kitchen, he gave in to the snarl inside him.

“You planning to leave me to starve?”

She turned on her heel, all big, bruised eyes in a delicate face he wanted to cup in his hands as he kissed her, coaxed her, taught her he’d never ever lay a finger on her in violence.

“I-I’m s-sorry.”

Gabriel could’ve killed at that instant—specifically the person who’d created this terrible, overwhelming fear inside his tough little assistant. “Don’t be sorry,” he said in a voice that wasn’t as non-snarly as he’d intended. “Teach me to make this sauce, then teach me what I did that set you off so I don’t do it again.”

Charlotte didn’t move, just stared at him through the clear lenses of those glasses that drove him nuts. He had a host of fantasies in which she was wearing nothing but the specs, her hair up in that little bun he usually hated, and maybe a string of long pearls that he— Stop, he told himself when his cock began to harden again. He was moving way too fast, and he needed to chill if he was going to have any chance of earning Charlotte’s trust.

“Again?” she said at last, her voice small.

“Ms. Baird,” he said, using her formal title because it made her pay attention, “have I or have I not made it clear that I would like you in my bed?”

Teeth sinking into her lower lip, she nodded.

“So,” he said, folding his arms and leaning his hip against the freestanding counter, “why would you think one hiccup would stop me?” He raised an eyebrow. “Especially since you’ve been working with me long enough to know that nothing stops me when I have my eye set on a goal.”

Charlotte drew in a long breath, released it slowly. “I don’t know if I can.”

“If you tell me you don’t want me, I’m going to demand you give me your panties to prove they’re not damp.”

Cheeks going bright red, she stamped one dainty foot. “That is totally inappropriate!”

“No rules outside the office, Ms. Baird,” he said, needling her on purpose because he liked her fiery, hated the defeat he’d seen in her. “Now come here and tell me what I did.” It was important she make the decision to stay, to start trusting him.

Gabriel could push and push hard, but he’d never force.

Glaring at him instead, she shoved up the sleeves of her cardigan and said, “I’m starving. You can learn to make sauce another time.” She began throwing things together in a small saucepan, the kitchen filling with a deliciously spicy scent minutes later.

A half hour after that, they were seated across from one another at the dining table located behind and to the left of the kitchen area, beside a large bank of windows that overlooked the city.

“You’re missing salad,” she muttered.

He wanted to haul her into his lap and tell her to stop being a hissing, bad-tempered kitten or he’d have to punish her—but he didn’t think Charlotte was ready to play those kinds of games. The playful threat might actually scare her. So he got to his feet, went to the kitchen and, grabbing a bowl, opened up a pack of premade salad he’d had in the fridge. He even found the special salad-serving utensils before putting the bowl on the table.

Charlotte took some salad, ate the pasta she’d whipped together, and looked out the window. “Don’t close me in.”

The words were so softly spoken that it took him a second to realize she’d answered his question. “It makes you feel claustrophobic?” he asked in an effort to get the exact parameters.

“Yes.”

“Any kind of crowding?”

“Sometimes… with you, it’s okay”—her eyes met his—“but I can’t predict when I’ll have a panic attack.” Her fingers clenched tight around the stem of her wineglass, Gabriel having opened a crisp white rather than a red because he knew Charlotte didn’t like red much.

“I want to crowd you,” he said, leaning back in his chair but maintaining the intimacy of the eye contact. “I want to pin you under me and fuck you hard, then I want to slam you up against pretty much every wall in this place. After which I want to bend you over my desk, my bed, this table. For starters.”

Charlotte’s skin flushed a hot pink, then paled, then went red, her eyes sparking fire. “Did you not hear what I said?”