“Believe it or not, the world does not revolve around you.”
“So you were flirting with him for fun?” The question exploded in the elevator carriage. “Were you just keeping your options open for your next adventure after you come back from Australia?”
He saw with exacting, slow motion detail the moment the barb burrowed underneath her skin. Her brown eyes, dark with a furious passion, went wide with shock. Her red lips parted with a gasp. Her chin trembled…once…twice before going hard when she clenched her jaw.
“You prick,” she said. The faintest hint of wetness in her eyes disappeared with a blink, but it was still there in her voice.
This is when he should apologize, take back what he’d said only because he’d known it would hurt her. But any good sense he had was burning in the flames of his frustrated anger. He didn’t understand what had happened, but something had. Clover had begun to crowd into the corners of his big vision, changing it in subtle ways that threw the rest of it off. He found himself thinking about her at strange times in the day, counting down the hours until they were alone again, becoming desperate to touch her soft skin. Even now, when he was so mad he could barely think, he wanted her like he’d never wanted anyone else. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—have that. His life was orderly. Pre-determined. His. No one, not even the woman who could manage not only to drag him to a flea market but make it fun, was going to change that—no matter how much he needed to feel her under him and hear her soft moans of satisfaction as she came.
So instead of saying sorry, he doubled down on his attack. “My prick has been your favorite part about me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I like it when you use it, not when you act like it. There’s a difference—one you obviously can’t grasp.”
The elevator doors opened and she strode out, her heels clicking angrily on the tile floor of his foyer as she marched toward the hallway leading to her bedroom—a room she hadn’t slept in since that first night. Even the idea of not sleeping with her hit him like a sucker punch to the kidney.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sawyer rushed out of the elevator, following. “I’m not done talking to you.”
“Yeah?” Clover kept walking. “Well, I’m done with you.”
Maybe it was because he couldn’t let her have the last word. Maybe it was because he couldn’t stand to see her go. It didn’t matter because he was striding after her before he even realized he was moving. He reached a hand out but she stopped and whirled around faster than he could touch her. Her cheeks were flush and her breath came in fast inhales through her parted lips, the obvious signs of just how angry she was with him at the moment. But it wasn’t just mad. Her nipples had pebbled against the tight fit of her black dress, and her pupils had dilated with desire.
“I don’t like you very much right now.” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, pulling it taut.
His cock thickened against his thigh as his frustration made a hairpin turn into something else. “The feeling’s mutual.”
“So why do I want to fuck you so bad my panties are soaked?” Her words didn’t come with a flirty look or a sexy turn. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was as pissed as he was that this thing between them wasn’t so easily shoved aside.
Not tonight anyway.
He took a step forward, not touching her but close enough that the air around them snapped, crackled, popped. “Attraction isn’t logical.”
“That’s the first thing you’ve said all night that makes sense.” She grabbed his tie and yanked him lower until her mouth was on his in a hard, demanding kiss.
Chapter Sixteen
Kissing Sawyer after what an ass he’d been all night was the last thing Clover should be doing, but it was also the only thing she wanted. Going back to her room and taking care of the need building inside her by herself wasn’t going to do it. She needed more. Damn it, she needed him.
She broke the kiss and dropped her hands to his belt. “I don’t want slow.” She yanked the leather free from the buckle and moved on to the button and zipper holding his pants closed. “I don’t want easy.” She shoved his pants down his hips along with his boxers. “I don’t want foreplay or sweet nothings or teasing out our orgasms until we’re both about to break.” She wrapped her hand tight around his hard, warm cock and felt it jerk in response to her touch. “I want to fuck you out of my system so that I can stop thinking of you all the damn time.”
“Take off your panties and pull up your skirt.” He toed off his shoes.
Her fingers froze in the middle of pushing his pants the rest of the way down. “What?”
“You heard me.” His mouth came down on hers in a rough kiss that left her mouth bruised and wanting more when he pulled away. “You want a good, hard fuck? Get rid of your panties before I rip them off you.”
Why did such a glorious dick have to be attached to such a pompous asshole? “You’re not in charge here.”
Something flashed in his eyes a half second before he grabbed her by the waist, spun her around, and jerked up her skirt so it was around her waist. He locked an arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest so she could feel the outline of his dick against her ass. “I’d say the question of who’s in charge is up for interpretation.” He hooked a finger in the band of her panties and ripped them free.
The scrap of black lace drifted to the floor, followed a second later by the thunk of her purse after she dropped it. Spinning in his hold, she turned to face him—the added height of her heels bringing her almost eye to eye with him. Good. Tonight she was going to see every reaction, every emotion, every response before he had time to hide them from her. Tonight, those little details would be hers.
She pressed both palms to his chest and shoved. “Control isn’t up for negotiation.”