Page 15 of Hunted for Halloween

That damn nickname.

I'm tempted to rub my thighs together for friction, but my determination to appear unaffected outweighs my desire.

“My Dad asked me to drop this off for you.” My voice comes out squeaky, making my cheeks heat.

“Put it on the couch,” he says without looking away from me.

I look towards the couch that's a few feet away from the huge mahogany desk he's leaning on. I suck in a deep breath, a sense of wariness settling in my tummy like pangs of hunger. My fingers grow clammy on the box but I will my legs forward, tossing the box on the couch.

I spin around, paranoid, only to see him walking stealthily towards me like a huge black cat monitoring its dinner. My heartbeat quickens, the room suddenly feeling smaller.

“If you are going to run a business, maybe you should consider not fucking the women who work for you.” I spit out the words venomously, my eyes nearly bulging out of their pockets when it dawns on me what I just said.

His eyes darken fleetingly, his muscular frame growing tense.

“I don't mix business with pleasure. That's a very strong accusation to slap on someone, Pumpkin.” His voice is dangerously low, thick with an underlying edge.

I evade him sharply, moving backwards rapidly to the other side of his spacious office.

“It didn't look like that from where I was standing!” I snap at him.

I don't understand why I'm so worked up. It's none of my business if he fucks his secretary. That shouldn't be a problem. He's not my boyfriend—not my anything. I fail woefully at convincing myself because my blood only boils harder.

“Are you jealous?” his lips curl in amusement and he stops short, folding his arms around his chest.

His muscles flex with the movement, causing my abdomen to tighten.

Fucking hormones and acting thirsty when they see him!

“What? No!” my cheeks burn hot.

He scoffs, the sound dark and humorless. “You are a fucking hypocrite, Aurora. You say you don't want me, yet you have come on my mouth and fingers like my own personal fucking whore. I'm supposed to be your father's best friend, but here you are in that fuck me dress and heels, wearing that fucking red lipstick and getting jealous of my secretary.”

My chest burns with fury, and I struggle to push back the tears building up at the back of my eyes. His words cut deep—maybe it's not them because deep down, it feels like a part of me knows that he's saying the truth, and I hate him for it.

“Fuck you,” I seethe. “I'm leaving.”

My announcement seems to set him off because his eyes blaze with fury and in two sharp strides, Christian eats up the distance between us. The fear and excitement that courses through my veins throws me backwards with a force that makes my back hit the glass wall behind me.

“What did you just say?” he pins me between him and the glass surface behind him, his large hands resting on the space beside me.

My palm flattens against the glass, my breath coming out in harsh, unstable puffs as I look up at him. The shining ember and flames in his eyes are completely swallowed by his dark, dilated pupils. They bore into me with a mix of lust, hunger and fury that tightens my nipples and makes my toes curl against my strappy black heels.

The heat of his body combined with his overly masculine and evocative scent sears through the fabric of my floral ruffle dress. It makes me want to thrust my chest forward so that I can feel more of it, more of him.

“You heard me. I'm leaving.” My breathless voice overshadows the effect of my words. “This thing between us, it's…it's madness, and…and I want—” the rest of my words crush to dust on the tip of my tongue when his hot mouth comes down on mine.

I melt against the glass.

Christian's lips tangle with mine in something that I can't even call a kiss.

He's devouring me, feasting on me, and breaking me into pieces. He pushes his body into mine, grabbing the side of my face roughly.

I refuse to open up to him and allow him to steal what's left of my free will, but he bites my lip hard, eliciting a filthy moan from me.

The sensation is maddening and consuming when he slips his tongue into my mouth, nibbling on my lips in dominant strokes that make me moan against his mouth, soaking my underwear with my arousal.

He wrenches his lips off mine, his eyes dark with want and rage as he grabs onto my nape.

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