He kisses my chin, caresses my throat. I close my eyes against what I see in his eyes. It’s so much more than the need to fuck, than the base urge of one alpha male compelled to take a woman from another of his species. It’s tender and sincere and all the things I’ve told myself all these years he wasn’t capable of.
“I saw you first,” he whispers, kissing the bridge of my nose where my freckles are.
“I had you first.” He kisses my face where the dimple dents my check when I smile.
“I want you back,” he declares, meeting my eyes and taking my mouth in a deep kiss, never looking away. He sucks my tongue into his mouth with eyes wide open, and the intimacy of it overwhelms me. I can’t close my eyes, can’t look away even when the kiss turns more aggressive, possessive. When he coaxes my lips open wider and goes deeper, taking and giving with every stroke. He skids his hands down my waist and cups my ass, kneading the muscles until finally my eyes drift closed and I slump against him, bliss stealing the last of my pitiful resistance. I groan and my hands creep up over his shoulders and around his neck, my fingers stealing into the cool silky hair. He presses me into the refrigerator door, hooks my leg on his hip, and opens me up, grinds his erection into the divide of my pussy.
“Jared, oh, God.” My head drops back as he pushes against my clit through our clothes. The pleasure swells with each forceful thrust, arrowing from between my legs and up through my chest, coiling at the base of my throat and then breaking free on a silent scream.
“Does he make you feel this way?” he asks, a tightness to his voice that makes me look at him even in the midst of this unimaginable pleasure. “Has he seen you when you come? Seen how beautiful you are when you fall apart? Or do you make him fuck you in the dark, too?”
I squirm free, dropping my leg and pushing away, stumbling over to the counter and leaning there, head dropped forward so my hair hides my heated cheeks.
“Don’t talk about him.” I turn a serious stare on him, ignoring my body’s unfulfilled needs. “You may have seen me first and had me first, but Zo’s been my best friend for a long time. That means something to me. He’s like family, and as much as I want you, and I admit I do, I don’t want to hurt him.”
He walks over, and I flinch when he touches my face because I know how frail my guard is. I could go up in flames again if he wants me to. With just one touch.
“Then you have some tough decisions to make, and you should make them soon.” He bends to drop a soft kiss on my nose. “Because I won’t give up until you’re completely mine, Banner, and I won’t wait much longer.”
19
Banner
“Girl, you better eat. All work and no food does the body no good.”
Quinn designed the app to alert you if no food has been recorded at certain pre-programmed intervals. Now that I understand my body better than I did before, I usually eat several small meals instead of three large ones. Or worse, skipping breakfast and loading up only twice a day. I work out hard and need to fuel and burn all day. Sometimes I simply forget to record what I eat, but today, the app is right. I haven’t left this laptop in hours. I reach across the desk to buzz my assistant.
“Maali, could you grab me a salad from that place up the street?”
Instead of answering, she appears in my doorway. Her inky black hair swishes at her chin in a bob, and her dark eyes mirror concern.
“Sure.” She approaches my desk. “It’s almost quitting time. I’ll go grab the food before I go. The usual?”
“Yeah,” I answer distractedly, scanning the first draft of Zo’s new contract. “Dammit. Lowell is not making this easy.”
“Still holding out?” She props one hip against my desk.
“I think he considers this meeting me halfway, but he’s in for a rude awakening.” I close my laptop with a snap. “Max or we walk.”
“And does Zo have other options?” Hesitation shadows her delicate features. “He did seem to drop off there at the end?”
I shoot her a sharp glance, and she rushes to fix it.
“I’m just saying he was doing so well all season and then seemed out of gas at the end.”
“That happens to lots of guys,” I remind her, trying to keep my voice free of defensiveness. “Zo is in season number ten, not two, so maybe it was typical wear and tear. I have every confidence that he’ll be back to his usual level of performance when the new season starts. He’s an elite athlete, one of the best we’ve seen, and he deserves supermax.”
I open my laptop and start an email to politely, but firmly, tell the Titans front office where they can insert their underwhelming offer.
“Of course,” Maali says, not looking as sure as I am. “I’ll be back with your salad.”
She walks out, only to pop her head back in a few seconds later.
“Oh, and Cal’s in the building.” With a glance, she commiserates with me. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“You’re safe,” I say with half a smile before returning my attention to the email. “Thanks for the heads-up.”