Page 45 of Shaken

I march across the empty dance floor, intent on going upstairs to my office. But when her pointy boot makes contact with my abs, I turn and head down the employees’ hall instead, and walk all the way back to the corner before dropping her down on her feet in front of the storage closet. I cup the back of her head with one hand and her hip with the other, then push her body up against the wall.

“Would you stop acting like a spoiled little girl for five fucking minutes?” She refuses to face me until I force her to. “Ten goddamn years, Wren, and you’re still blaming me for your bad taste in boyfriends? I thought we were past this shit.”

Her cheeks flame brighter than her hair when she smacks her palm against my chest and smiles a seductive smile. “Why the hell would you think that? You fucked me before you ever touched me, Sawyer, and you know it.” Her fingers grip the front of my shirt, pulling me closer. “Did you wish it was you instead of him?” Her breath catches when I lean into her. “Is that why you never said anything about all the other girls? Were you too scared? Too jealous?” She nips my bottom lip. “You never told me why.”

My hand slides from her hip down the length of her leather skirt, pushing it up and feeling her bare skin. Then I slide my knee between her legs.

I don’t miss the beautiful hitch in her breath, which has my already hard cock leaking in my jeans. “Jesus, Red. Is that seriously what you think?”

I slide my palm along the inside of her soft thigh and groan as her furious eyes flutter shut. “There were rumors all year. But that’s all they were.Rumors. It’s not like I knew they were true. And if you ever bothered to really think about it, you might remember me asking you why the hell you were still with that asshole, and you told me to mind my own fucking business.” My finger runs along the seam of her lace panties.

She’s wet and hot, and she might not know it yet, but she’s mine.

“Wren.” I shove her panties to the side and rub my palm over her clit, playing with her drenched sex. Teasing her. “I told him to come clean to you as soon as I found out what was happening. I threatened him and basically forced him to tell you the truth. I didn’t want to see you get hurt.” My voice is low and angry, remembering how pissed I was all those years ago. “But I told you all this back then. Why the hell are we talking about it now?”

Her eyes fly open when I push inside her hot pussy with two fingers. I watch her bite down on her pouty lip to hold back a sexy moan that still manages to escape.

“Because I don’t want to like you. I can’t. We can never be more than this, and we both know the reasons.” It’s not anger she’s projecting. It’s hurt.

“All I’ve ever tried to do is protect you,” I admit.

“Why?” She tugs my hair and wraps one leg around mine, opening herself up for me. “Why did you have to protect me?”

“Are you really that dense?” I boost her up the wall, shoving her skirt around her hips, then push us both into the storage room, letting the door swing shut before I drop her back down to her feet.

Wren pops the button on my jeans, already breathless, and goddamn, I like that.

“But you hate me. Why would you want to protect me?” She palms my dick, and I hiss through my teeth, then spin her to face the wall.

She bends over, sticking that beautiful ass out and whips her head around. Shiny strands of copper hair spill in a waterfall around her shoulders. Her pupils are blown wide with a wild need that matches my own, but I refuse to give her what we both want until she hears me.

Really hears what I’m telling her.

Because I’m not doing this again.

“I’ve never hated you, Red. I’ve always loved firing you up, but that was because you came alive and out of that perfect little shell you constructed for yourself each time you reacted. We pushed each other to be better for years. You may have acted like you hated me, but I never believed it. I still don’t. And it never came from a place of hate for me.” My hand skims the curve of her hip while the other guides the tip of my dick through her slick, wet heat.

My muscles contract with the sheer will it takes not to fuck her now.

To wait until neither of us can think—forget either of us being able to talk.

No one has ever had the effect on me this woman does.

She always has.

“Speak for yourself, Kingston,” she pants and pushes back against me. “You know it’s not that cut and dry.”

I hold her still. “It never will be, if you only see what you want to see.”

“I still don’t like you,” she pushes.

“You like my cock,” I tease, then slide my hand up her back, stopping between her shoulder blades and pushing down to bend her over an old bar stool. “You like the way I fuck you.”

She whimpers but doesn’t answer me.

“Tell me, Wren...” My hand moves under her sweater, needing to feel more.

More...

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