Page 47 of Pulse

She had the illusion of control, having trapped him against the wall, but five seconds of his lips on hers, and she was putty in his hands. He chased her tongue with his, not giving her a second to catch her breath. She whimpered, and his fingers flexed against her back.

She wanted them to move. To touch and stroke her all over.

How long had it been since a man kissed her? Too long, and not nearly as long as it had been since a man kissed herthisway. The way that obliterated every thought in her head except one.

More.

Talia was an assertive woman, one who worked hard for what she wanted and refused to let the steep slope of a mountain deter her from scaling it. She never let fear stand in her way and bowed down to no one, particularly no man. But she also had enough trust issues to fill a swimming pool and never made herself vulnerable to others, physically or emotionally.

So, the fact that she was kissing Pulse like her life depended on it and the aggressor was out of character.

Insanely out of character.

She nipped his lower lip—something she’d never done—and he let out a guttural groan. His pecs flexed beneath her fingertips. That sound. She could live on it. Heat flushed every inch of her skin. She felt crazed. Out of control with desire. She wanted to do things to him. She wanted him to do things to her. Things she’d never done or even wanted because they’d give him power over her.

The thought of it terrified her, yet as a hardness ground against her stomach, it thrilled her just as much.

She pressed closer and widened her stance as he continued to ravage her mouth. One of his thighs slipped between her legs. He flexed the strong muscles against her pelvis. She gasped into his mouth as a riot of pleasure shot from between her legs through her body.

Pulse dragged his hands down her back to her ass, where he squeezed and rocked her on his thigh. She moved against him, finally getting pressure where she needed it.

Yes.

More, she needed more. She rocked against him, shameless in her need for friction.

So damn good.

God, I can’t believe he’s a client.

A wave of ice crashed over her.

Her eyes flew open, and she went rigid in his arms.

What the hell am I doing?

Pulse stilled as soon as she stopped humping his damn leg.

He released her immediately.

She jerked away so fast and hard that she crashed into the wall opposite him.

They stared at each other across three feet of space. It wasn’t nearly enough physical distance. His eyes were dark and wild with lust. His chest heaved, and his nostrils flared as he panted. He curled his hands into fists at his sides.

Talia breathed just as hard, trembling with unfulfilled need. Her body didn’t understand why it felt so damn good one second, only to have those sensations brutally ripped away without satisfaction.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head. “That was entirely inappropriate of me.”

“Tal—”

“No.” She held up a hand as she pushed off the wall. “I shouldn’t have done that.” She stumbled a few backward steps down the hall. “It won’t happen again,” she said as she turned and staggered away. The least the universe could give her was a graceful escape, but the damn alcohol had her unsteady, and the aftermath of his kisses left her weak and trembling.

Why did you do that?

It wasn’t often she regretted her actions. Talia overthought and overanalyzed everything. Acting on impulse wasn’t her, even with alcohol soaking her brain. And yet tonight, she’d gone and thrown that out the window.

“Hey.” Brooke caught her as she bumbled her way toward the exit. “You okay, Talia? You’re not looking too good.”

“Um…”

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