Page 25 of Negotiating Tactics

I looked down at his hand, then back at his eyes, trying to figure out what was going on with me.

The flutter in my chest was leaving me breathless, but I forced out a smile as I locked eyes with his. “Noah, I’m way too big to get swept off my feet.”

No sooner than the words had left my mouth did I feel myself moving.

One minute I was in the chair.

The next, I was in Noah’s strong hold, my breasts crushed against his hard chest, one strong arm around my waist, the other tucked under my knees.

He stared down at me. “You just needed to meet the right man.”

I felt… What was the word for it?

Shocked, yes.

I hadn’t even dreamed of something like this because it seemed ridiculous.

Noah holding me like I was nothing, telling me with his words and his eyes how much he wanted me.

The strength of his arms, the scent that was his shower gel and just him, his warmth, all of it making me want to curl against him.

Stay there forever.

But I couldn’t.

Because I was suspicious.

I hated that, but I was.

Noah was rich, interesting, and so far outside of my league that it was a testament to happenstance that we even found ourselves in each other’s acquaintance.

But I reminded myself this was just gamesmanship on his part.

Whatever butterflies I was feeling were because Noah was dedicated to his weightlifting regime.

They meant nothing.

He sensed a change in me.

I could tell, because as he stared down at me, his expression turned.

Still intense, but some of the fire had been banked.

He lowered me to the floor, my body sliding along his.

My pussy was begging for him, and I felt like I was on a hair trigger.

I knew he could tell, just like I knew he was now focused on something else.

“What was that?” he asked when my feet touched the ground.

“What was what?” I responded, trying to pretend I wasn’t breathless.

I couldn’t allow myself to look away from his gaze, but from my periphery, I again took note of his tight T-shirt, the loose track pants, and bare, masculine feet.

“You probably don’t realize it,” he whispered.

I lifted a brow. “Realize what?”

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