Page 35 of The Suit

I think.

Maybe he was expecting me to suddenly get all girly and fall in love, like theyallno doubt did. Fuck that. He might have made me come like a freight train, but I still hated him. More even.

I think.

“I’ve never had sex without protection, but I can assure you I’m tested monthly. I just wanted you to know, in case you were worried.”

My teeth gritted at the consideration he was showing me. Consideration I did not deserve, and only served to make my guilt and annoyance increase. “There were two of us having sex, Latham. I’m on birth control. You’re not responsible for me.”

“I know that. But…”

“It’s not just your responsibility,” I cut in, before he could make this any more uncomfortable than it already was; thanIalready was. “There were two of us, and I’m not one of your helpless fangirls. I protect myself.” I wasn’t going to add that I’d never had unprotected sex either, or that I couldn’t remember the last time Ihadhad sex, because, quite frankly, who has the time? “And it won’t be happening again, so no need to worry.”

He rolled his shoulders back, as though suddenly filled with relief I wasn’t about to throw myself at him. My heart sank a fraction, while he just stood there staring at me with that look on his face.

That look that made him so punchable.

“Now you can go.”

But instead of turning the way he came, he stepped in further, forcing me to move back until I hit the arm of the couch, where the air seemed even thinner, especially when he leaned in.

“Do you want to know a secret, Holmes?”

He was too close for me not to look at anything but him, or concentrate on anything but him. “Not really.”

He frowned, but a tiny almost dangerous, smile peaked the corner of his mouth. “Well, I’m going to tell you anyway. Your pussy is exquisite.”

She clenched in agreement, just as he caught my wrist before my hand made contact with his cheek. “Ugh, you’re disgusting. God, I hate you.”

“Same. It’s the one thing we agree on.” Except… his voice carried no hatred, instead it was practically purring as he peered at me with that same curious head tilt he had the other day when he’d caught me looking at him.

“What?”

“You want me.”

“No. I do not.” I scoffed far too loudly and unconvincingly.

His eyes narrowed with so much scrutiny, I suddenly understood what it must be like under police interrogation. “You do. I know you do.”

“You think that because we had sex one time I’ve miraculously fallen under the famous Latham spell? You’re delusional. Get the fuck out of my office!”

I glanced toward the door, knowing that anyone – Blake – could walk in at any time, and even though nothing was happening,somethingwas happening, and it would be written all over my face. Especially as he was still holding my wrist.

I yanked it back.

A soft chuckle escaped his even softer lips, lips I was trying my hardest not to stare at. “I don’t know about any Latham spell, but I do know you, Beulah. I know you want me, right now.”

He dropped the bag down, his hands moving to either side of where I was perched, pinning me in. There’s no way he couldn’t see the hammering of my pulse, even under the turtleneck; the third one I’d worn since Friday. I’d had to buy in bulk.

“Rafe…”

“I know,” he continued, totally ignoring my pleading tone, “that if I slipped my fingers underneath that skirt of yours, they’d be soaked in you before I reached the tops of your thighs.”

He was so icy cool as his hands stayed gripped on the edges of the couch, that it was pushing me to the verge of hyperventilation.

“What… why… are you here?” I managed to stutter out, any and all semblance of self-control and dignity I’d had swiftly waning.

My breath trapped in my throat as he pulled the collar of my turtleneck down and brushed his thumb across my skin, across the mark he’d left there.

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