Page 35 of Implode

“I hate you for involving me in your bet!”

“Keep going,” he persuades.

“I hate you for showing me kindness and then making me feel like shit when I fell for you!”

“Give me more, Claire.”

“I hate you for fucking with my mind!”

I slide down Nic’s body as he releases his hold on me slowly. I think it is his way of giving up but quickly realize it is actually his way of reminding me how good we feel when we are together.

My whole life I have had men try to tame me, not encourage me.

Claire, you’re too much.

Claire, you’re too loud.

Claire, you’re too sexual.

And here I stand before a man who seems to appreciate the spontaneity I can bring to a situation. It is refreshing and new. And that fact, combined with how delicious he is looking, makes me want to jump his bones.

Without giving myself more time to change my mind, I do just that.

I lunge at Nic and he catches me midair, turning me so he is the one with his back to the wall.

“You have no fucking clue how badly you control me,” he bites out, taking my hands and placing them over his, above his head. He looks anything but submissive.

“How can you even say that?” I snap back. “Youare the one who seems to be calling all these shots.”

“Because you are being so difficult.”

I huff out a breath and bring my hands back down to my hips. “Really?” My simple question oozes with sarcasm. “You’re really going to blame all of this on me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, the nerve of you!”

I go to turn around and leave, but Nic’s hand is on mine, pulling me back to him like a boomerang. Our mouths collide, and between our squeezed bodies, he starts to undo his pants. This is happening, and no matter how much I know I should deny myself this pleasure, I am going to savor every moment. I want this. He knows it. I know it.

“Tell me to stop, Claire, and I will.”

When I have no words to contradict what I know will happen, my dress is pulled up over my hips. Hands run up my spine as my neck gets bitten.

“Ouch,” I wince. I can feel Nic’s smile on my sore skin. He licks and kisses the spot, knowing just what to do to soothe my pain. I’m sure he left a mark—one I will look at often.

“You like it,” Nic teases.

I nod. “I do. How much time do we have? I have some papers I need to file,” I tease. “Emails to check.”

One glance at his watch has me being pulled from the room, through the main part of the office space, into the hallway, and entering the elevator car in under a minute. He punches the number for his floor and walks me back to the wall of the elevator with just the push of his hips. My head flies back as he devours my lips, my neck, my ears. It is like he is dying of thirst, and I’m the only source of fulfillment.

The dinging sound alerts us that we have arrived. When the doors start to open, Nic reaches for my hand and pulls me from my trance. He leads me down the hall and into his office space. It isn’t until I see his pants sliding down over his boxer brief-covered ass cheeks from the hurried movement that I remember that he already started undoing them in my office.

“Say the words,” he demands, holding the sash of my wrap dress between white-knuckled fingers. I can tell he is struggling to maintain control. I am too.

“I want you, Nic.”

His eyes darken, and my dress is undone with ease from a few flicks of his fingers. It pools at my feet on the floor of his office. I watch as he discards all of his clothes, while I stay in my panties and bra. Nic slides to the floor on his knees and presses his lips to my new tattoo, licking the image with the flick of his tongue. He then kisses my belly so sweetly that I swear he knows my little secret. I melt under his attention, feeling vulnerable and open to whatever he has to give to me.

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