Page 46 of XOXO

“I’ll take that,” I say and pull it to myself.

“That’s not a good idea,” she replies and tugs it back.

We trade back and forth like that for a solid twenty seconds before I get frustrated. I try to tear the box out of her hands, but she swings me around and slams my back into the shelves.

Metal and bin contents rattle from the force of the shove. Her hand grips my throat tightly while she pins me against the sturdy vertical shelf supports.

She might have the box gripped under one annoying arm, but she lifts her knuckles to force me to look her in the eyes.

Golden starbursts around pale-green irises are emphasized when her pupils dilate in the dim light.

Brynn is irate, her eyes wide and her fingers on my neck firm.

But having her this close, with her hand on me, makes my heart race. My breathing sprints to catch up, and I can tell she senses it.

The grip shifts ever so slightly, so that it’s less for choke and more for control.

I swallow against her fingers, and her gaze dips to my lips.

Her proximity prompts a new series of fantasies that involve using the worktable in a way I’ve never thought about.

I bite my lip, and she leans closer. Her forearm rests against my breasts.

But she never breaks that intense eye contact.

My heart jackhammers beneath my ribs, and I consider for a minute that she might actually kiss me.

Do I want her to?

No. Fuck her and her animosity.

But also . . .

This woman is a force. Fierce and beautiful, with a body that makes me want to lick and suck every inch of her. I’d definitely enjoy kneeling for her.

“We don’t have time right now,” she murmurs but seems to be saying it more to herself than me. Her fingers slide up to my jaw and she forces my chin higher.

Brynn presses a gentle kiss on my lips, and my eyes sink closed to enjoy the feel of it.

Energy crackles between us, even in the brief encounter.

“Hmmm, such a sweet girl under my thumb. I’d bet good money you’re a thing of wonder when you come.”

The barest whimper escapes. My skin is alive, my muscles tense and anxious for her to return for more.

Every breath is a plea for her to continue.

My exhales on her hand feather over her skin to convince her to kiss me again.

“Fuck, little blossom. I love watching you bloom. Let’s fix the stone and you can show me to your place.”

I manage the barest nod despite her hand on me.

She releases me, and it’s like I’m more confined than before. I want to touch her, to taste her. I barely got anything from the kiss. The pull toward Brynn is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

She raises a knowing eyebrow but doesn’t comment further.

In the worst kind of foreshadowing, the box’s latches are already disenchanted. She pops the lid and curses.

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