Page 50 of Love so Hot

"Progress?" I cut him off, hands balling into fists at my sides. "What good are jobs if there's no clean water left? No untouched land?"

"Everything has a price, Willow," he says coldly, his face a mask of infuriating calm.

"Even your soul?" I shoot back, my chest heaving.

"Low blow." He narrows his eyes, and I see the storm brewing in their depths.

"Then fight fair! Because this—" I wave my hand between us, "—this fake façade doesn't give you the right to dictate my beliefs."

"Nor does your self-righteous stance give you the right to jeopardize everything I'm working towards," he counters sharply.

"Working towards?" I laugh bitterly. "You mean what you're forcing upon everyone else?"

"I said enough!" His shout rings out, and for a moment, the room stills, our breaths suspended in the charged space.

"Never enough," I whisper, my resolve steeling. "Not when the earth is at stake."

The space between us pulses with unsaid things, heavy like the fog that creeps through Greenwood Hollow at dawn. Lawrence's breath is ragged, mirroring my own. His usually composed self is nowhere in sight; instead, there's a rawness to him that I've never seen before. The polished businessman is gone, and all that's left is a man with his defenses down.

"Willow," he says, and my name on his lips feels like a challenge and a plea all at once.

"Lawrence," I breathe out, my voice barely above a whisper, but it slices through the tension.

Suddenly, we're not two enemies standing on opposite sides of an ideological chasm—we're just him and me, and the air that crackles with something more dangerous than anger. It's desire, hot and undeniable.

I don't know who moves first. It doesn't matter. In one swift moment, our bodies collide. My back hits the wall, and his hands are everywhere, mapping the territory of my frustration, my anger, my unexpected longing for him. My fingers tangle in that red hair I've imagined pulling in less heated moments.

"Is this what you want?" he murmurs against my lips, and I can taste the fury and passion that have fueled our fight.

"Yes," I hiss, because it’s true, because I can't deny this wildfire that's leaping from my soul to his.

It's frenzied, the way we come together. Clothes shed like old arguments, discarded on the floor as if they're part of another life where we are not entwined, skin to skin, breath mingling in the dim light of the living room. There's power here, in the giving and taking, the pushing and yielding.

My dress hits the floor. Larry's hands are everywhere, tugging at my underwear, and kneading my breasts. I can't bring myself to stop him.

The pipeline. I hate everything about that infernal project, but the passion in Larry's eyes as he gazes at me makes my breath catch. And the way he's touching me now, like he can't get enough...maybe I was wrong about him. Maybe we're not so different after all.

"Take it off," he growls, hooking his fingers under the waistband of my panties. I oblige, kicking them aside as he shrugs off his shirt.

Well, hello. If I thought he was attractive before, it's nothing compared to now with acres of tanned muscle on display. My eyes roam over his chest and down to?—

"Enjoying the view?" The smugness in his tone makes me grit my teeth, but then he's cupping my breasts and lowering his head to take a nipple in his mouth. A jolt of pleasure shoots through me and I gasp, sinking my fingers into his hair.

"You're insufferable," I mutter without any real heat.

He releases my nipple with a wet pop, eyes glinting with amusement. "And yet here you are."

I open my mouth to retort but then he's sliding down to his knees in front of me, gazing up with a predatory gleam that makes my thighs clench in anticipation. Our argument is clearly over because now all I want is for him to put that clever mouth of his to better use.

"Well?" I prompt impatiently. "Are you going to just stare all day or—ah!"

My words end in a startled cry as he grabs my hips and yanks me forward, burying his face between my thighs. And then that wicked, wonderful tongue begins to work its magic, teasing and stroking until my knees go weak.

Some distant part of me knows I'll probably regret this in the morning, but right now all I care about is the building pleasure that's making me dizzy with need. My fingers tighten in Larry's hair, urging him on, and he chuckles against my slick flesh, the vibration sending a fresh wave of sensation coursing through my body.

I'm close, so close, and when his hands slide around to squeeze my backside, tipping my hips up for better access, I shatter with a cry that's equal parts frustration and ecstasy.

Breathless, I slump back against the wall and peer down to find Larry watching me, lips and chin glistening, eyes dark with hunger. And despite the incredible orgasm, a new ache begins to build inside me. An ache that won't be satisfied until I've wiped that smug look off his face once and for all.

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