“Sweetheart,” he drawled, trailing a hand seductively down her arm, “what we do behind closed doors is no one’s business but ours.”
“You know,” she stammered, resenting the way her body reacted to his touch with fireworks and songbirds, “I kind of hate you sometimes.”
“If that’s code for ‘I want to fuck you until I can’t walk straight’, then I kind of hate you, too.” Before she could protest, his lips were crashing against her mouth, claiming her and burning a trail of hungry kisses down her throat as he nipped at the sensitive flesh. His strong hands gripped her arms, pulling her flush against him, her aching breasts crushed to his solid chest. They were so close she could feel the heat rolling off his body. She could bask in that heat all day, writhing in the pleasure he offered. When Cole’s hands dropped to her ass, cupping the cheeks and slamming her hips into him—hard—she liked it. Liked feeling his erection pressed against her belly in search of her wet heat. And God was she wet. He could bring her from zero to orgasm in a heartbeat. Nerves were firing all over her body, a frenzy she fully expected to result in earth-shattering, orgasmic satisfaction. Unable to stop herself, she rolled her hips toward him, seeking relief for the pressure building between her legs as the dampness in her panties spread.
Unable to think about anything except the screaming need searing through her body, she grabbed his tie and pulled him close, ravaging his lips in desperation. He growled in response and spun her around so her backside was pressed firmly against his erection. Her pulse spiked, bringing desire with it. His intentions were clear. She leaned forward, putting her breasts to the table, and rubbed her ass against his hard ridge, enjoying the very exquisite, very male feel of him. With no time to waste, he hitched up her skirt, the chill of the cool office air washing over her rear. He exposed her bare flesh, running a hand gently over her right cheek, before giving it a firm slap. The sting heightened her excitement and she wriggled with anticipation. They were silent except for the sound of his zipper sliding down, freeing the erection that would satisfy her raging hormones. He dragged the tip down the cleft of her ass, sending a thrill up her spine. Finally. He was positioned to take her.
A sharp knock at the door yanked Olivia back to reality.
Holy hell! Had she lost her freaking mind? She separated herself from Cole and flung herself into one of the empty chairs that surrounded the table, milliseconds before Jack opened the door and stuck his head in. She glanced at Cole, relieved to see he’d positioned himself behind one of the high-backed chairs, effectively masking his open trousers.
“Uh, Mr. Pritchard needs to see you, Mr. Bennett.”
The look in Cole’s eyes was deadly as he turned to the junior associate. “I’ll be right there.” Honestly, it was a wonder Jack didn’t pee his pants, she thought, a nervous laugh rolling off her lips as he backed out of the room. Had Jack seen them going at it like two horny teenagers? She hoped to God not. Which reminded her of what she had to do. Olivia took a deep breath and braced herself for the fallout.
“Look, it was a dare, okay?” she blurted out. “Nothing more. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been somebody else in that bar.”
Shock registered on Cole’s face, followed by denial. She couldn’t blame him. It did seem pretty tasteless in retrospect.
“A fucking dare, huh?” The smile that twisted his lips was anything but pleased. “Sweetheart, it may have started that way, but in case you haven’t noticed, we can’t be in the same room without ripping each other’s clothes off, so why keep fighting it?”
Her pride wanted her to deny the crap out of his statement, but what would be the point? Her breathless state spoke louder than any argument she could form. She shrugged. “I like sex as much as the next girl. I had an itch that needed scratching, so I scratched it. It didn’t really matter who it was with.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it or don’t. It doesn’t change the facts.” Olivia’s stomach turned at the heartless words. Shit, she was earning that Ice Queen reputation right now. “We’re both adults. We have to work together, and if you like your cushy new job you’ll keep your hands—and your penis—to yourself. I will not jeopardize my career, or my reputation, for meaningless sex. No matter how good it is. You shouldn’t either.”
She moved toward the door, desperate to escape the confines of the stifling room and Cole’s accusing stare before it consumed her. Like the wild kudzu vine of the south, he had a way of overpowering everyone and everything in his path, and Olivia wasn’t sure she had the strength to hold her ground. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to.
As she twisted the knob to freedom, he delivered a parting shot.
“I don’t believe you. The way you cried my name? That was more than just a dare.”
Chapter Nine