Page 52 of Dating the Rebel
“But you wanted honesty—”
“Honestly answer what you want from me,” she said.
A strange sensation, like the ground shifting beneath his feet, unsettled him. This was important—this would change everything.
And he’d really been enjoying how things had been between them.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SHEWASFURIOUS—with him for eavesdropping on the business meeting with her sisters. Sure, they’d been shouting, but he could have knocked sooner. He could have let them know he was out there, listening to them talk abouthim. But as furious as she was with him, she was even more furious with herself.
How could she want him so damn much when it was clear he’d never really wanted her?
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. She was not going to cry over a man; she’d made that vow many years ago, after all the times her mother had brokenheartedly wept over another failed relationship.
This hadn’t even been a relationship. It had just been sex.
That was all it had been—for both of them.
So she stopped waiting for the answer she already knew he was going to give her, and she turned to walk around her desk. But she hadn’t made it a foot away when his hand closed around her arm and he spun her toward him—into his arms.
“I want you,” he said.
Those traitorous tears stung again. “You don’t even like me.”
“You don’t like me.”
“No,” she corrected him. “I don’t trust you.” But she had begun to like him very much. He was funny and sweet and protective of his sister. But none of that mattered when she couldn’t trust him.
Because even though he said he wanted her, he also wanted to join the damn dating service. And even if he wouldn’t break their hearts, she still didn’t want him dating other women. She didn’t want him dating anyone but her.
“You know I want you,” Grant said. “That you make me crazy every time we’re together...” He lowered his head then and covered her mouth with his.
She kissed him back—because she would rather kiss him than talk at the moment. Hell, she would rather kiss him than do anything else, except him.
She wanted to do him. One last time...
After today, she knew she couldn’t see him again. She’d already let him get too close—close to making her care about him. Fall for him, even—and that could not happen.
Her anger and frustration heightened her passion, making her tear at the buttons on his shirt with such desperation that one pinged off and struck the wall.
He chuckled against her mouth, but he seemed just as desperate as she was. He pushed up her skirt and pushed aside her panties. Then he stroked her, over and over until her legs began to shake and threatened to buckle beneath her.
Before she could slide to the floor in a p uddle of passion, he lifted and perched her on the edge of her desk. “I wanted to do this the first time I saw you in here,” he admitted, his voice gruff. “Looking so damn sexy...”
He tugged at the buttons on her blouse until it parted and revealed her lace bra. Her breasts strained to escape the cups. Then he pushed it down and cupped them in his hands, his thumbs stroking over the taut nipples.
She moaned at the exquisite pleasure, at the sexual energy streaking through her—from her breasts to her core that throbbed with desire. She needed him inside her. Now.
“Grant...”
He kissed her again, quickly, passionately—lips nibbling, tongues tangling...
Then he lowered his head to her breasts, kissing them, tonguing her nipples...
And he dropped to his knees and tongued her clit. She grasped his shoulders as an orgasm rocked her and she cried out. It wasn’t fair how easily he could make her come, how powerfully...
And how powerless she felt to resist him.
