Page 28 of The Holiday Clause
“What’s wrong?”
Her confidence vanished and her words came out in a stammer. “N-nothing.”
Suddenly feeling like a monster, he pulled his hand free. “You did this on purpose.”
“No, Greyson?—”
“Damn it, Wren!” He dragged a hand through his hair, angry that she would be so reckless. “What were you thinking?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. I told you there are rules. We don’t do this. Ever.”
“Those are your rules, Greyson. Not mine.”
“What are you trying to prove? You think because you can get a man to fuck you that somehow changes the situation? I told you no and you pushed anyway.”
“I guess you had absolutely nothing to do with this.” She waved a hand at her bare breasts.
“Cover yourself.”
She lifted her chin in defiance. “No. Not until you admit that you liked putting your hands on me.”
What he liked was irrelevant. “We’re done here.”
“Greyson—”
“Wren, we’re done,” he snapped, once again facing her. “This was a mistake.”
She flinched, and tears sprang to her eyes. Her nipples were still wet from his mouth, and her breasts were rosy from the scruff of his beard.
“For the love of God, fix your shirt.”
With shaky hands, she righted her clothes. “You don’t have to be such an asshole.”
“I told you not to push me. Why do you do that?”
“I barely did anything.”
“Bullshit. You followed me in here and purposely provoked me. What did you think would happen?”
Her lips firmed into a flat line, and she narrowed her eyes. “I guess I thought you might be honest for once.”
“I’m always honest.”
“Not with me. Not about your feelings. We’re not little kids anymore, Greyson. I just celebrated my thirtieth birthday.”
“I’m perfectly aware we’re not children and I bought your damn cake candles so I know how old you are.”
“Then act like a man and admit there’s something happening between us.”
The breath in his lungs turned chilled. She’d never actually called him out like that.
When he remained silent, she frowned. “Do you hate me so much?”
“Hate you?”
“When you like someone you don’t punish them this much.”
