Sawyer raised one eyebrow as if to say so that’s how you want to play this. Pushing away from the door, he took a step closer to her, all cocky confidence. “Don’t mistake me for one of the small-town boys you’re used to.” He took another step until they were practically pressed up against each other in the small space “Faking it…” He lowered his head, coming close but not quite touching her and making her breath catch. “Is not going to be an issue.”
True story, but she’d pack that admission in her hand basket and take it to hell with her. “Of course it will,” she halfheartedly denied. When his gaze narrowed, she rushed on. “And besides, everyone out there saw you ignoring me for two hours then fighting over me like a favorite chew toy with Tyler. Everyone’s going to assume it’s just a stunt to continue this feud and not real attraction.”
“They won’t,” he said and dipped his hand down, tracing a fingertip across the hem of her crop top. “Not if we play it right.”
He never dropped his touch below the material, never made skin-to-skin contact, but he didn’t have to. She felt his touch anyway, and it made her entire body crackle with anticipation.
“You just met me.” It came out breathy, but she was mostly shocked she was able to get it out at all.
He dropped his hands from her shirt and raised one to lean against the wall behind her head as his gaze slid up, locking on hers and nailing her to the spot with some unspoken command her brain couldn’t process but her body understood immediately.
“Everyone knows I’m not a man who waits when I’ve decided what I want.”
And there went her panties—and most of her brain, because instead of reiterating her hell no all that came out was, “You don’t know anything about me.”
“So I’ll learn.” He lowered his head, coming close enough that she could feel the brush of his words across her cheek. “I’ve always caught on fast.”
Oh God. This was either so bad it was good or so good it was bad. She couldn’t decide and her body didn’t fucking care. Her brain, though, wasn’t quite ready to give up the fight. “I can’t keep a job, my bank account’s almost empty, and I live in an apartment with a roommate. Everyone will think I’m a social climber.”
“Unimportant details.” His fingertips traced across her jawline.
“No one will ever buy that you’re attracted to me.” Okay, that argument sounded ridiculous considering what anyone would see if they walked in on them right now, but the thinking part of her knew this had crossed the line from fun adventure to bad idea and was desperate.
“If they think that,” he said, hooking a finger below her chin and tilting her face up so her mouth was just inches from his. “Then they’re idiots.”
His lips came down on hers and her brain gave up the ghost. This wasn’t about thinking. It was about sinful promises, wild nights, and knee-knocking lust—the kind that had her pulse going from sixty to light speed in the span of two heart beats. Dominant and focused, he teased her with his tongue, playing along the seam of her lips before slipping inside. Desire, hot and slick, settled low in her core as the kiss went from tempting to exploratory to mind blowing—and she gave back as good. What could she say? He might be her stuffy uptight boss, but he was an amazing kisser—the kind that made her want to fall into the moment and never climb back out. And she wasn’t the only one. They couldn’t get enough of each other, tongues pushing against one another, the occasional nipping when one of them tried to catch a breath, and even frustrated grumbling when clothes got in the way of their needy hands.
With a groan, he released her mouth, leaving her lips kiss-stung and hungry for more, and turned his attention to the line of her throat and that one spot right behind her ear that had a direct lust line to her clit.
“Sawyer,” she moaned as soon as he hit it. Her toes curled and her nipples stiffened with the lightest nip and lick from him.
He mumbled something against her skin that she didn’t catch as he dropped his hands from her face and let them glide down her curves and around to her back, dropping lower until he cupped her ass and lifted her upward. Thanks to the loose cut of her skirt, she didn’t have any trouble wrapping her legs around his lean hips and pressing her most sensitive spot against him. As soon as she did, she rubbed herself against his hardness—fuck, Sawyer was packing significant heat.
Sliding her hands through his hair, she arched her back against the wall as she tightened her thigh lock and undulated her hips against his unmistakable bulge.
“So good,” she whispered, her voice ragged and needy.
Good didn’t even begin to cover it, but it was as descriptive a word as her totally-in-SOS-mode brain could come up with when his lips made their way from the bottom of her earlobe to the place where her neck met her shoulder. He nipped her there and sucked it better as she slid her hands over his hard chest and made fast work of his shirt buttons. One. Two. Three. Enough to let her sneak a hand inside—
The supply closet door flew open.
Light from the hall poured in.
A harsh gasp sounded followed by a hurried, “Excuse me.”
The door slammed shut.
Heat beating her cheeks, Clover let the back of her head hit the wall with a solid thunk and unwrapped her legs from around him to slowly slide one foot to the ground. “Oh shit.”
“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed,” he asked with a soft chuckle.
Her other foot hit the floor and reality seeped in. “Of course I am.”
He stepped back a few paces and busied himself with re-buttoning his shirt. “And here I thought you were the one always up for an adventure.”
Which is just what this had been for him—a walk on the wild side for Mr. Upper Crust. The realization would have pissed her off if it hadn’t been for the heat still smoldering in his eyes. She was young, free, and having a Cinderella-at-the-ball kind of night—in a twisted sort of way, of course. It’s not like any of that makeout meant anything. It was just part of the too-hot-for-a-cartoon-movie fantasy and now it was time to go home before her not-glass slippers resulted in the loss of her toes.
“So are we in agreement?” Sawyer asked as he adjusted his cuffs.
Of course, it was back to business for him. Well, two could play at that game. His negotiation tactics might be unusual—she’d never dry humped anyone at the Turkish bazaar—but she couldn’t deny they worked because she was about to say yes.
She was going to agree to be a temporary fiancée to a man she’d just met—or translated to Clover terms, just another job to list on her whack-a-do resume. Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have to make some adjustments to their agreement. If she was in, she was going all in and so was he.
“Agreement?” Clover smoothed back a few stray hairs and tried to get her heart rate back down to not-running-a-marathon levels. “About the fake engagement?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll need to work out the details.” There. That sounded all tough and corporate.
He straightened his glasses that she must have sent askew during the kiss. “I usually leave those to other people.”
Nice try. “Not this time.”