Babysitting a Billionaire 3 : Taking Control(17)

And that was so not going to happen.

She'd spoken the truth. She hated him. Hated that he seemed to be the only man capable of making her feel this way.

Weak.

She gritted her teeth and opened her eyes. The light was bright, probably because outside it was broad daylight and she was in an office with floor-to-ceiling windows and no blinds. She gazed out at the sky as an alternative to looking closer to home.

Yes, she hated him, and already her body craved him again. After he'd left her the last time, she'd gone through withdrawal symptoms similar to a drug addict. Had lost herself for a while. She would not go through that again.

As Declan's hands tightened on her ass, a ripple of residual pleasure ran through her and she winced. He was still lodged firmly inside her, filling her, stretching her. The old Declan had had amazing stamina. She had no intention of sticking around to find out whether or not that had changed.

"Put me down."

His fingers dug into the flesh of her buttocks and for a moment, she thought she was going to have to resort to physical assault. She was pretty sure she could take Declan if she had the element of surprise. He was bigger, stronger, but she was betting she was faster and she had a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. And his pants around his ankles were hardly likely to help his case. She was filled with a need to strike out, to release some of her pent-up feelings.

She tensed her muscles, a quick punch to the chest, twist free …

Before she could act on the impulse, he lifted her up slightly, pulling out. A sense of loss washed over her. Ignoring it, she loosened her legs from around his waist and put her feet on the ground. She'd avoided looking at his face; now she risked a glance. A sleepy, sated expression filled his eyes, but otherwise, his face was blank. She couldn't blame him. So was hers. She hoped. Steadying her legs, she let go of his shoulders. She could stand alone. Declan took a step back, reached down, and pulled up his pants, fastening the zipper but not bothering with anything else. He shoved his hands in his pockets and scrutinized her. His gaze dropped to her body, her totally bare-assed naked body, and his nostrils flared. 

"You're beautiful."

The murmured words twisted things low down in her body. She ignored the sensation, because getting all happy because Declan thought her beautiful was a big mistake. Not quite as huge as fucking him against his office wall, but big. "Glad you think so."

"You shouldn't have come back if you didn't want this to happen."

She scowled. "Who said I didn't want it to happen? There's nothing like a nice screw against the wall to cement client relations."

A small smile curled his sensual lips. "Don't lie. It's been a long time for you."

And how the fuck did he know that?

"You were desperate," he murmured as though she'd asked the question out loud. "And so tight it was almost like the first time."

"I don't remember."

"Liar."

"Yeah, well, you were pretty damn desperate yourself."

He shrugged. "I was curious. You were the best fuck I'd ever had even at seventeen. What you lacked in experience, you made up for in enthusiasm."

She glared daggers at him, imagined him lying at her feet. It could be arranged. "Well, glad I indulged your curiosity."

"Glad to see you're still as enthusiastic."

Shit, she hated him. Had she mention that little fact? Was it worth saying again?

But she didn't like the way he was looking at her. His gaze focused on her breasts now, then lower and she had to fight the urge to cover herself. She'd never been body conscious, but this was self-protection.

She'd promised herself she could have him once. Now it was time to get out of there. Purge Declan and the old negative emotions from her brain, take control of her life, and move on.

She bent down, scooped up her clothes from the floor, slipped out from in front of him, and strolled across the office.

"I can't believe you had 'Declan is a prick' tattooed on your ass."

At the words, she glanced back over her shoulder. "If the name fits." It had been on a drunken night out with some of her army buddies. They'd all gone for tattoos, but Jess hadn't wanted a new one. In fact, she didn't want the old one, so she'd just changed it a little.

Ignoring the looming man, she pulled on her underwear, her pants, and shirt-most of the buttons were gone, but she tucked it in as well as she could-then sat down to put on her boots. Finally, she picked up her holster and slipped it over her shoulder, fastened the buckles, and felt ready to face him. He hadn't moved. Still stood there with his hands in his pockets, watching her. She returned the inspection. He must work out-he was ripped-no way would he get a body like that from sitting at a desk all day. Weights she reckoned. He'd certainly picked her up with ease.