Page 103 of Oblivion

I wheezed a series of curse words and grabbed Penny’s thigh when she went to bolt.

“Oh, no, you fucking don’t. It’s gonna take a lot more than a cheap shot to the balls to stop me from stopping you from leaving.”

“Get your hands off me,” she hissed, tugging at my wrist and barely budging it.

“Not a chance.” I stumbled to my feet and glared. “Besides, last time I had my hands on you, you didn’t want them anywhere else.”

“Don’t bring that shit up as if it’s a threat. You’ve made itabundantlyclear that you’re not interested.”

I let out a deep, gritty snigger; she had no fucking clue.

“I’ll tell you one thing, jailbait. If it wasn’t for you being the client, I would have fucked you to within an inch of your life twenty times over by now.”

She had the audacity to laugh in my face.“Sure,you would have.”

I pressed my forehead to hers, recklessly bound to the all-consuming chemistry neither of us could escape. It kept me locked into verbally sparring with her, despite knowing I should break away and put distance between us.

Penny’s expression lured me closer until my lips hovered barely a breadth above hers.

“I was the best ride you’ve ever had, wildcat, and we both fucking know it.”

“Oh,please,don’t flatter yourself.”

Those breathy words and dilated eyes gave away her true emotions.

I stared. Divided my attention between her crystalline eyes and her lips. Those lips… the source of so much sass and attitude, but Jesus fuck, they were plump and ripe and tempting me closer.

My inhale snagged and halted on its own accord. Penny sensed the shift too. Her fingers grazed across my thigh in one slow, torturous movement.

Deny it until I was blue in the face, there was no hiding how aroused the forbidden touch made me. I physically shook with effort to keep a hold over my restraint. Christ, how I wanted to touch her, to hear the little sounds of pleasure she made when alone, to run my hands through her hair…

“You shiver when I touch you,” I murmured, running my knuckles up her arm, ignoring the sting of the boxing wounds.

“It’s out of revulsion, not enjoyment,” Penny hissed.

I chuckled under my breath. “Sure it is. That’s why your breath hitches when I step close, and why your pupils dilate when I run my fingers down your neck.”

A satisfying trail of goosebumps appeared in the wake of my fingertips grazing the juncture of her collarbone.

A mix of desire and annoyance burned in her gaze.

“You think you’re so smug, but your body doesn’t lie either. You’re hard over this, and I know my hand being so close to your dick is making it ache. You want me so damn bad. Isn’t that right, Dante?”

She accompanied the remark with a not-so-subtle brush of her hand across the bulge in my jeans.

Clenching my jaw, I grabbed her wrist and held tight when she attempted to tug away.

“Do it again. Idareyou,” I growled, internally warring between my desire and my loyalty to Jackson.

I groaned and thrust my hips forward when Penny assertively palmed my dick and squeezed. My hand wove around the back of her neck, ready to pull her to me and succumb to temptation.

In the background, the building alarm cut out abruptly. The contrasting silence amplified our heavy breathing. I reared back and crashed to reality after unwittingly getting lost in Penny’s gravity.

Her eyes widened and flicked over my shoulder. “Someone’s coming.”

I whipped around to see Rick—the building manager—striding toward us.

“Any idea how the alarms got triggered in your apartment?” he demanded without preamble.

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