Stop it, you dirty girl.
The song ended, leaving just two more, six minutes give or take on his tab. But those six minutes were unnecessary. Too many lines had already been crossed. She needed to put distance between them before she did something stupid. Or, more stupid.
Unfolding her feet encased in their wobbly prisons, she stood and moved toward the door. In a flash, he was on her, his hand cupping her hip, sending fire through her veins that terminated at the juncture between her legs. A dangerous current zipped between them.
“Time’s not up,” he grated.
Her gaze strayed to the “eye,” the camera in the corner of the room. Was Ray in his office drooling or was he just happy to have Brody’s Amex so he could run up bogus charges?
“There’s nothing more to say.”
“You’re not working here anymore. I insist.”
Another blast of heat barreled through her at his dominant tone. The boss was never this bossy at work. “Haven’t you heard, Mr. Kane? This is the twenty-first century and women have rights. You can’t insist on that.”
His answer was to “insist” until her back met the wall, right below the camera. The blind spot in the room, her brain whispered.
“I can and I will,” he said. His hands dug into her hip bones. His hard, suited body pinned her in place. In his eyes, there lived enough heat to burn every last piece of skimpy stripper clothing from her body.
No one can see us in this part of the room.
“I know,” he rasped.
So she’d said that aloud.
“You’re not supposed to make me—” He broke off. “This is not the role you’re supposed to play in my life, Emma. You’re my assistant, my employee, the person I rely on to keep my day ordered.”
Fury, previously on a low simmer, now overboiled in her chest. Evidently, they were not having the same shared experience. Emma’s life strikeout, the one that included a descent to the slimy depths of rock bottom, was an inconvenience for Mr. Broderick Kane the f*ck
ing third.
“Am I supposed to apologize because I’ve upset the order in your life?”
“Yes, damn you, yes.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. His brow crimped, a strange shift of emotion on his face, and as she followed his thoughts chasing each other, her own anger transformed into something sharper. Edgier.
Dangerous.
Damn it, he was going to fire her tomorrow anyway. Maybe tonight. He’d find a way: a morals clause, conduct unbecoming a Score Property employee, criminal levels of twerking.
This might be the last time she saw him.
Anger at the unfairness of it all flushed through her. Her whole life had been spent looking after and out for others. Her personal and professional sacrifices, it was all for nothing. Why shouldn’t she have something of her own, even if it was brief moment of heaven before she crashed headlong into the abyss?
If she was going down, she was taking Brody Kane with her.
“You don’t like things out of place, do you?” she goaded. “Your neat rows an undisciplined mess?” Her breathing had picked up, each word out of her mouth a provocation. “You especially don’t like when you don’t have all the answers, Brody.”
“Don’t test me, Emma. I’m taking you out of here. No one else will touch you.” Ever again, she finished in her head.
Old, bad-girl Emma latched on to the opening his threat presented. Welcome to the party, bitch. “I’m staying. Plenty of clients left who’ll pay top dollar for a chance to touch this ass.”
“Emma—”
“Frankly, you’re wasting the room, Mr. Kane. And you’re taking up valuable time when I could be earning so much more with my needier clients.”
Those gray eyes burst into supernovas. “That will happen over my dead body.”
“I wonder if Mr. Smythe-Osborne would enjoy some good old-fashioned American hospitality. Two girls are always better than one, and if Score Property is paying—”
His lips crashed down on hers, devouring, igniting a flame in every cell of her body. Yeah, this.
No kiss had ever tasted this good. No kiss had ever incited her in this way. His tongue swept through her mouth with possessive, velvety strokes that sent swirls of desire eddying in her gut. Her fantasy of kissing him had always been tame. Guy was a dweeb, after all. But this kiss… Brody Kane had skills in the mouth-to-mouth department.
He pulled back, shock on his face at what he had done. What they had done.
Torment tightened his brow. He really was suffering over this, but hell, so was she. And she suspected only one thing could ease it.
He was her boss, and she was dressed as a stripper in the back room of a strip club. But very likely, he would soon be her ex-boss because there was no unringing this bell.