by Lynda Chance
A dangerous sizzle filled the air as he stood only inches away, looming over her. Trying with everything she had to appear unaffected, she ran her eyes up and down his length, attempting a dismissive expression that she knew was a pathetic fail. There was no question that he was intimidating when he wanted to be, his designer suit molding his tall, powerful body, enhancing his stance of authority. His eyes were hot and dark as he stared down into hers. “Is something bothering you today? Cat pissed in your Post Toasties this morning?”
Her breath snagged; he was so close she could see the gold striations running through his pupils. “You know very well that I don’t have a cat.”
“It was a rhetorical question. I don’t care for the attitude, Maria. You need to lose it, pronto. Capisce?”
Maria firmed her lips. Keep your mouth closed. Just keep your damn mouth closed, Maria. Absolutely nothing good can come from arguing with him. He’ll be gone soon and then you’ll have the job you’ve always wanted and you’ll never have to deal with him … at least, not very often. As his hand gripped tighter, then loosened, and then pulsed tighter again, she took one stabilizing breath and then another. When that didn’t calm her down, she counted to ten and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she found him watching her with a merciless expression that was colored with retribution.
Every muscle in her body tightened, and when she remained silent, refusing to give him an answer, his features turned menacing. She could almost feel his inexorable control slipping; the primal attributes that made him so much a man had never been quite so obvious as they were now, as he held her in an uncompromising grasp not six inches away from his torso. Oh, yeah. He was a man like no other, there was no getting away from that fact. She could lie to herself all she wanted, but Garrett Rule was pure unadulterated male, through and through.
Their eyes stayed connected; his intense gaze narrowed and the pagan, dominant personality he usually took pains to keep hidden rose to the fore. Her breath snagged in her lungs. He was dangerous. She’d known that from the moment she’d met him, hell, from the very first phone conversation she’d had with him.
Now, as a wave of anger seemed to grip him, he leaned down until his mouth was at her ear and he demanded an answer. “Do you understand me, Maria? Are you screwing with me? You’ve never been careless enough to fuck with me before. I’m warning you, now wouldn’t be a good time to start.”
Maria attempted to give him a benign agreement as she struggled for control, but she lost it.
Challenge accepted, douchebag.
Using all the strength at her disposal, she pulled back from him and glared, not even trying to hide her truculent expression. At the warning that smoldered in his eyes, her stomach flipped wildly, but she had a point to prove.
She was about to knock the son-of-a-bitch on his ass; she’d teach him to try to intimidate her.
He thought he could subdue her with his hard-core masculinity? Just wait…. how would the motherfucker react when faced with her undisguised femininity? She took a cleansing breath and then purposely softened her features, making her eyes turn liquid. Tilting her head to the side, she let her hair swing forward. She’d caught him staring at her hair more times than she could count and now she put the thick tresses to good use. Holding his stare from under her lashes, she dampened her bottom lip and then caught it between her teeth. Not overtly. Not innocently. Just perfectly.
An instantaneous, ferocious look crossed his features while his jaw clenched at her actions.
She held every bit of his attention and she used it to her advantage. Dropping her gaze to his mouth, she held it there for the count of two seconds before letting it slide down to the bulge in his pants. Not expecting that and yet refusing to blush, she lifted her face and let her eyes clash with his before dropping her bombshell in a falsely soothing voice that was barely more than a whisper. “I promise, Mr. Rule, I wouldn’t dare fuck with you. And if I ever did, I assure you, you’d know it.”
Her words seemed to hit him full force, holding him momentarily transfixed, and taking the opportunity it gained her, Maria ignored the whirling in her head and brushed past him, walking into his office.
Taking a quick look around, she spied the missing file folder under a slew of documents not far from where she’d originally left it. Not knowing who’d moved it and at the moment not caring, she dug it out from the bottom of the pile and slipped it under the paperweight.
Without deigning to look at her boss again, who’d evidently shaken off his stupor and had followed her into his domain, she walked past him and out of his office, shutting the door with a snap.
****
The back of Garrett’s head hit the closed door.
His blood was pumping furiously, his goddamn cock was as hard as a rock.
That had been Too. Fucking. Close.
He’d touched her and she’d retaliated, using her feminine wiles on him for the first time since he’d actually met her. And fuck, she’d hit her mark. That look in her eyes. The softness of her voice. Son-of-a-bitch. It had been bad before, but now … shit, this was going to come back to haunt him. Every. Fucking. Night.
How could he have been such a dumbfuck? He couldn’t believe he’d actually touched her.
Touched her, hell. He’d reached out and grabbed her, and instead of going for an innocuous spot like a shoulder or a wrist, he’d just had to touch her soft, feminine flesh. Because he’d been dying to know what it felt like for the last … for-fucking-ever. Since before he’d even seen her. And since he’d come to Florida? Nothing but weeks on end where he’d fantasized about shutting and locking the outer office door, with only the two of them inside. Weeks where he’d dreamed about her all the time. Not daydreams, hell no. He wasn’t some kind of pussy. He never should have stopped jacking off; trying to prove that he was in control had only made matters worse. Because now he was dreaming about her all night long. Wet-fucking-dreams. Dreams that made him wake up from a perfectly good REM with his cum sticking to the sheets. Dreams that should have been somewhat satisfying but weren’t in the least.
Usually he could control his thoughts during the day. It was unmitigated hell, but usually, he could stay focused on work, on the business that he and his brothers had built from the ground up. But the nights … he had no control … he thought of her incessantly. He’d even tried a shot or two of bourbon to get her out of his head.
It hadn’t worked and he’d given up trying.
He knew that when he lay down at night, she’d creep into his subconscious and invade his mind and body whether he wanted it to happen or not. He’d see her face, and he’d get hard. He’d imagine her body naked, and he’d get even harder. He’d see the belligerent fire in her eyes as she would snap her mouth closed and refuse to take whatever bait he’d pitched out to her that day.
Then he’d toss and turn and give up on sleep and go take a cold shower. And more often than not, that wouldn’t work either and his suffering only made his imagination run more rampant. He’d see her slip to her knees in the shower stall. Yeah, Maria on her knees. There was no question that he wanted her kneeling in front of him … her eyes on his, her lush, reddened mouth open around his cock, taking him in, making him come, swallowing him.
Yeah, he wanted her on her knees, but not until he’d fucked her and fucked her good … and made her come in every goddamn position he could think of.
****
As had been her habit for at least four days a week during the last month, Maria left for the hotel gym at eight o’clock that evening, knowing good and well that Garrett would arrive to lift weights at around ten. She wanted to be long gone before he arrived: no way did she want to see him anymore than she was forced to, so she’d quickly figured out his schedule the very first week he’d arrived.
Adjusting hers to his had taken a bit of jostling, but it was more than worth it not to have to be in close contact with his glowering features anymore than necessary.
Holding
her gym bag over her shoulder, she stepped into the service elevator and rode it down. She hated being confined, but usually, it was a quick trip, as the car went straight down, but tonight, for whatever reason, it stopped on the floor below hers. Knowing that only employees used the back elevator, she felt a tiny flurry of nerves, but quickly shot them down. What would be the odds …?
The doors opened and her stomach sank. Evidently, the odds were good … or bad. Whatever.
Her breath caught in her throat as Garrett took a step inside and then came to an abrupt halt, looking at her for the space of a second before his features became emblazoned with an emotion that she couldn’t make out. He was obviously surprised to see her, and a small flurry of butterflies tried to take off in her stomach but she took a deep breath and refused to give in to them.
“Hello,” she said as nonchalantly as possible. Feeling as if she suddenly had no strength, she dropped her gym bag down to the floor and stepped all the way to the back of the car, finding the corner where she held onto the railings with both hands.
He gave her nothing more than a chin-lift in answer, turning to the control panel. When he didn’t press a button for another floor, and immediately noticing the way he was dressed, it became obvious to her that he was probably going down to the gym earlier than he usually did. Damn it!
The doors slid closed and they began to move, and just as her mind was going crazy trying to figure a way out of having to use the gym with him in attendance, he lifted his hand and slammed a button on the control panel with a force that made her jump. The lift slid to a jarring halt between floors.
Chapter Three
Every other concern flew from Maria’s head as Garrett silently turned to face her, the muscles of his neck cording and a tic appearing in his cheek.
Her tongue slid out and she licked her dry lips. “Why’d you do that?” Panic began to infiltrate as his eyes ran up and down her form.
“It’s my elevator.” His words held both ownership and threat … and they seemed to be claiming more than the elevator.
Immediate tension mounted as she realized that it could be a long, long while before another employee tried to use this particular elevator. Attempting to quell her nerves, she said in a smooth voice that she would have been proud of if she hadn’t been scared shitless, “And I’d like out of it, please.”
“All right, no problem.” Even as he answered agreeably, he didn’t try to fulfill her request in any other way. All he did was lean against the wall not two feet away from her, crossing his arms over his chest and his feet at the ankles, as if they were going to be there for a while.
He made no move to do her bidding, and Maria tried to breathe evenly as she took in his jacked-up physique. He was wearing basketball shorts and a tight-fitting, sleeveless t-shirt, and tennis shoes that probably cost ten times what hers had. His biceps were massive, his calves held definition that was more than impressive, and he was no less intimidating dressed as he was now than when he wore a tailored suit and was sitting behind a desk. In fact, with his muscles on full display, she felt her heart skip a beat. Adding to her already stretched nerves was the fear she tried every day of her life to overcome. Claustrophobia.
She’d gotten stuck in a small tool shed at a house belonging to one of her mother’s friends when she’d been about six years old. The women had been catching up and hadn’t noticed she’d wandered off. She’d been missing for probably a good half hour when they eventually found her, dazed, dehydrated and traumatized at finding herself in a dark, locked shed that smelt musty, as if it didn’t contain enough oxygen. A frisson ran through her at the memory, still so vivid in her mind. Her life hadn’t been the same since, and even now, confined spaces were enough to make her heart skip a beat and perspiration break out all over. It was a minor miracle that she rode the elevator alone in the first place, it took everything she had, and she always made sure she carried her phone.
Now, with the conveyance at a complete standstill and Garrett Rule standing over her as if he had no intention of letting her out of the enclosed compartment any time soon, her insides were enduring a double dose of apprehension.
As she stayed in the back corner, resolutely refusing to tell him of her fear, he turned and put a shoulder to the wall, facing her completely. Her blood began pumping triple time, as he did nothing but lean against the wall and continue to stare at her.
She didn’t know what she was scared of, exactly. She was usually less afraid inside an elevator when another person was with her.
And she certainly wasn’t afraid of Garrett.
No freaking way. She wasn’t afraid of him. She wasn’t. And she wasn’t attracted to him. She wasn’t. Sure, he had awesome good looks, and an awesome voice, but the son-of-a-bitch knew all of that. So what was there to be attracted to? She refused to be attracted to him.
So what was she afraid of here? She didn’t know exactly, but her heart rate was telling her she was terrified.
“It’s been a month,” he finally announced.
“A month?” How she managed to respond she hadn’t a single clue.
“Since I came to Florida,” he answered as if that explained it all.
“Yeah, so?” Okay, that’s good, Maria. Totally sounded confident. Bad-ass.
His face turned into lines of antagonism. “I’ve waited a goddamn month, Maria.”
For what? Jesus Christ, were her legs shaking? Where the hell had her damn confidence gone? “For what?”
He pushed away from the wall and took a step toward her. “What do you think?”
The butterflies in her stomach won out as her palms began sweating. “I don’t know—”
“Bullshit.” With the word still ringing in her ears, he kicked her gym bag away and reached out a hand, wrapping his fingers around her wrist. She was forced to let go of the rail, and in seconds her torso was flush against his as he held her caged in the corner, her wrist manacled in his hand and held to the wall.
She felt her eyes widen and her breath snag. He was leaning down, his face in hers, his body pressed to hers with a masculine force that introduced his erection to her stomach without preamble. She began to pant. “You can’t do this. It’s illegal—”
“Yeah, just like I couldn’t ask how old you are. That was illegal, wasn’t it? Just like I couldn’t ask you if you were married or had ever been married. But I finally broke down and asked you those questions, didn’t I? I asked you that and more. Didn’t I?”
A stroke of anger rose up and bled together with her panic. So, the gloves were coming off? Oh, goody. “Yes, asshole.” she got out between pants.
His brows drew down even further at her unconcealed belligerence. “So we both know I don’t have a problem crossing the line with you.”
“You’re insane, she bit out, throwing her head back, almost completely forgetting about the enclosed space in which she was virtually trapped. “I’m going to sue your fucking ass for everyth—” It was the last word she got out before his mouth dropped down and cut off both her voice and her oxygen. His lips were hot, hard, and possessive as they covered hers with a force that left her reeling. Unable to compute that this was really happening, her brain went into meltdown as her anger blended with the raw attraction she felt for him. Lights went off in her head as his thumb began pressing against the pulse point in her wrist at the same time that his tongue plunged into her mouth, demanding more.
A primitive thrill shot up her spine and momentarily, she forgot how much she hated him as she gave him what he wanted. She began to wrap her free hand around his neck, but within seconds, he made a grab for it, fisting it in his fingers and lifting it over her head, holding her hostage against the wall.
Securing her firmly, he kissed her repeatedly, his tongue delving inside her mouth and exploring every inch he could seem to reach. He growled low in his throat, biting her bottom lip as if punishing her for something, before pressing his tongue back inside as if he owned her and always had.
&n
bsp; He pushed his erection against her stomach, thrusting his hips back and forth just as he thrust his tongue inside her mouth. Imprisoned by his hands, Maria began to sink under his erotic spell. She tried to kiss him back, but the force he was using gave her no room to do anything but attempt to keep breathing through the sexual, erotic assault she was experiencing. As if he needed oxygen as much as she did, he lifted his mouth and took huge dregs of air before rasping, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first time I heard your voice.”
Maria’s eyes snapped open and found his demonic gaze leveled on hers. As his words sank in, she fought for breath. There was something about that particular declaration that was telling her that she needed to come to attention. There was something she wasn’t getting … something that was tickling her poor brain, but wasn’t computing because she wasn’t firing on all cylinders.
She felt him transfer both of her wrists to one large hand and then, with an arm free, he slid his fingers down, over her shoulder, between her breasts, to land on her naked thigh just below the hem of her gym shorts.
He grumbled again, low in his chest, almost as if he owned her, “Want to fuck you.”
Although her faculties were barely working, something about his blunt, fevered words was setting off alarm bells, and her anger came roaring back to save her as her muscles stiffened. “Well, you can’t fuck me, asshole.”
Ignoring her words, his frown intensified even as he gripped her mound, rubbing it, massaging it with a firm grasp. Maria fought the pull to her senses and growled low in warning, “Let go, Garrett.”
“No fucking way.” With a quick motion, he slid his hand from outside her shorts to the hem and then he pushed aside the crotch of both her shorts and panties.
She sucked in a breath at the feel of his touch on her most intimate flesh. Pushing against the hands that held her, she began squirming against him, trying to get free. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
