Page 62 of Kiss Me Tonight

“No.” She whirls around, nearly sending me tripping over my own feet in a last ditch effort to keep from running her over. “No. I’m sorry, but I’m not okay with you being a jerk to me. Not ever, butespeciallynot after last night.”

The wordsI’m sorrysit on my tongue, but each time I begin to edge them out, she tromps right over them.

“I don’t know all the details of your life and I’m not going to pretend that I do, but I can say withfullclarity that however fucked up you think you are in the head, none of that gives you any right to pull that bad attitude with me.”

She’s breathing so heavily her breasts are on the rise. Up and down, they move, holstering my attention even as I try to regain control of the situation.

“Levi—Aspen—”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” Her hands fly at my chest, shoving me back. Or trying to. Like a rabbit attempting to move an eighteen-wheeler, I can’t be budged. “You know which people get to call me Aspen? Family. Friends. You,Coach, are neither.”

Venom.

She’s spitting venom and I’m hard as a fucking rock, and if that doesn’t prove that I’m not quite right in the head, then I honestly don’t know what does.

I step in close, fully prepared to throw her over my shoulder so we can settle this in private, when she brings her foot down on mine.Hard. Definitely not an accident. The cute blonde from the pub has claws, I see.

Something about that makes me grin.

Which sets her offcompletely.

“You’re my assistant,” she snaps, chin thrust forward. “Does that make you feel good? To know that with a snap of my fingers I could have you fired?”

One foot in her direction. I lower my voice, aware of the echo in the empty hallway. “Sorry to disappoint, but you’d have to do a heck of a lot more than snap your fingers.”

Her mouth pulls tight. “You don’t think I could?”

Another step. “I think you’ve got a lot working in your favor being back in your hometown but getting rid of me isn’t gonna be a win for you. You’ll lose.”

A sexy growl works its way up her throat. “I wish I could clobber you with your ego. Let you feel the brunt of the burn.”

“Think you’re doing a fine enough job on your own.” I quirk a brow, daring her to argue my point, then follow up with another step forward. “I haven’t had a tongue lashing like this one in years.”

I see the moment awareness hits her that I’ve backed her into a corner.

Lockers behind her, a wall to her left.

More lockers to the right, thanks to theLshape of the hallway.

Her heels collide with the bottom row of lockers, and there’s a familiar, rattling metal sound that brings me straight back to my grade-school days.

“You’ve got nowhere to run, Coach,” I drawl, planting my hands against the cool metal locker on either side of her head. I lean forward, pressing the weight of my frame into hers. “You gonna put me in my place?”

Lowering my head, I graze her earlobe with my teeth. She told me she wasn’t anyone’s toy. That’s good. I’m not looking for a plaything. I’m not even surewhatI’m looking for, but what I do know is this: I’m dying to taste that sweet, whip-smart mouth of hers. I want the fire that fuels her to belong to me, even if only for a single kiss.

I nudge the column of her throat with my nose. Rasp, “You gonna remind me that I’m yoursubordinateand I better heel before you punish me?”

A shudder wracks her body. “You called me a pain in the ass,” she mutters breathlessly.

“Correction: I said that you crawled up my ass and died.”

Slender fingers find the hem of my shirt, twining themselves up in the fabric. “I want to hate you.”

I kiss her neck. Because this is what I should have done the night that I met her. What I should have done the night of the parent/staff meeting at the Golden Fleece. What I should have done yesterday, when I sat in her courtyard and wondered what she might do if I slipped my hands over her naked thighs and pressed a kiss to her berry lips.

My mouth coasts down over her pulse. It quickens under my touch. Pulses to a rhythm I know all too well, one that races to the beat of:What are we doing here? This is crossing so many boundaries. We. Can’t. Do. This.

I obliterate every internal protest and husk out, “I want to understand why I can’t hate you.”

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