Page 9 of Never Feed a Dragon

His hand skimmed the top of my thigh over my dress, and heat gathered in my abdomen again.

“Surprisingly, yes,” I admitted.

He grinned while I pulled out of the parking space. Soon enough, we were on the road, headed toward my apartment. It was only a few minutes away, which was convenient.

“You know this is insane,” I said as we went

“Why is it insane?” His hand was still on my thigh, high enough to make me wet even though he wasn’t touching me where I wanted him to. He was moving his thumb back and forth though, which made me want him more.

“We’ve been enemies for years, Eli.” Two years or so, if I was remembering right.

“More like rivals,” he said.

When I flashed him a dirty look, I found him grinning again.

The man was always so happy.

Part of me was annoyed by that, but the other part of me wanted that for myself. Maybe even craved it.

“Whatever you want to call it, it makes us insane for doing this,” I said. “I’ve heard of hate sex in books and movies, but I’ve always thought it was BS.”

“We’re not going to have hate sex, Spaghetti. We’re going to… ease the tension. Blow off some steam. We’ve never hated each other. I just like to see you riled up.”

I had more than my fair share of tension to ease. And I wasn’t going to bring up the loneliness.

“I’ve noticed,” I said.

His hand slid a little closer to my core, tucking the fabric of my dress deeper between my thighs. “It gets you going, though. I can smell it.”

My body clenched a little tighter. “Every damn time.”

“Me too.”

The fighting turned him on?

That was news to me.

Good news, but… news.

“Really?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

If Eli was lying to me, I wanted to know before we went any further. And while I didn’t get along with him most of the time, I did trust him not to lie to me.

“Give me your hand.”

I pulled into my apartment’s lot and parked the car, then did as he’d instructed. He guided my hand down to his cock, and wrapped my fingers around the rock-hard length straining against his dress pants.

My body flushed. “That’s not proof. You’re horny because we’re going to my place to have sex.”

He unbuttoned his slacks, popped the zipper down, and slipped my hand beneath the waistband of the black boxer briefs he had on.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek when my hand slid over the massive, silky length of him. He wrapped my fingers around the head of his cock, and they slid over the slickness that was the proof he offered.

He wanted me.

Badly.

“That’s still not proof.” My voice strained a little.

---