He opens his mouth, probably to bellow at me again, but I simply lay a finger over his lips the way one would hush a petulant child, even though this bold, tough-girl routine is as foreign to me as it is to Paul.
But I’m apparently not the only one who can do the unexpected, because instead of pushing me back or turning away, his fingers curl around my wrist until he’s grasping my arm hard enough to hurt. Without warning, his tongue flicks over the tips of my fingers, and I gasp, trying to snatch my hand back from the sweetly erotic stroke.
He’s toying with me.
I know it’s only manipulation, of course, but damned if I’m not turned on by this sick game I’m playing with a totally messed-up guy I don’t even know.
Both of us are breathing too fast, and I feel a surge of panic.
It was never like this with Ethan. That was always comfortable and easy. It wasn’t like this with Michael, either. That was simply forbidden. It was an escape, and a transgression I continue to pay for.
Paul’s eyes continue to hold mine until very slowly he releases my hand and pushes me back. “You’re clearly incredibly stupid, in addition to being bitchy, so let me be more clear. Get the fuck out of my home. I don’t want you here.”
I shrug, taking a step toward him, and feel oddly gratified when he takes a step back in response. “I’ll leave,” I say in a low voice, my eyes never leaving his. Surprise flicks over his half-handsome, half-contorted features, and I press on. “Yup, I’ll leave.”
He narrows his eyes “What’s the catch? Double your pay?” he asks with a sneer.
“No. I’ll leave. In three months, as agreed.” I lean in just a little, letting my eyes focus on his mouth. “Better get used to me.”
I make it as far as the door before I realize my mistake. No, Paul makes me realize my mistake.
He grabs my wrist a second before pushing me back roughly. My shoulder blades hit the door a half second before his mouth descends on mine—hard. I let out a startled yelp, my nails digging into firm, broad shoulders that feel like granite beneath my hands. His leg might be damaged, but his upper body is most certainly not.
This kiss isn’t about want, and it’s definitely not about romance.
This kiss is about power. He’s trying to scare me off.
I’ve never really thought of myself as having a temper, but something about this guy has definitely set it off. Anger flares, and I sink my teeth into his bottom lip. Not hard enough to draw blood, but definitely hard enough to tell him to back off.
But instead of releasing me, he growls and moves closer, pinning me against the door with his body as his tongue slips into my mouth.
Oh wow.
My fingers tighten again on his shoulders, and it’s not to push him away. It’s like some dark, savage part of me is released by the taste of him, and instead of wriggling away and slapping him, I do the unthinkable. I kiss him back.
He freezes for a moment when my tongue shyly touches his, and he starts to pull back, but my hands go to the back of his head and pull him to me. When our lips meet again, it’s an all-out battle as our tongues tangle, each trying to take control. We’re like two sex-starved animals who need each other to survive.
It’s ridiculous. It’s wrong.
And I don’t want it to stop.
It’s only the vibration of Paul’s phone that has us jerking back, staring at each other in bewildered confusion. I raise a shaky hand to my lips before I catch how vulnerable the gesture is, and instead lift my chin and give him a defiant look.
His eyes rake over my body. “Get out.”
I give him a condescending look. “Please. If I ran away from every tepid, boyish kiss, I’d never have made it past junior high.”
I walk away from his enraged scowl, confident I’ve won this battle, but at a very, very high cost. Because I have a serious lady boner for the guy I’m supposed to work for.
Chapter Six
Paul