Page 54 of What About Love

Once again, she didn’t think before speaking. He was on her in a blink, his much larger body plastering hers to the wall.

“Like hell you will.”

T’s growl preceded his mouth opening wide over hers, consuming her, his tongue thrusting fiercely inside. Powerless against his pull, she melted against him. Trapped between them, her fingers curled into his T-shirt, hanging on as his kisses made her legs limp and wobbly.

His phone went off in his pocket.

Snapped back to reality, she flattened her hands and pushed against his chest. At the same time, he roared, “Fuck!” venting frustration at the wall above her head.

He stepped back, his fingers diving into his hair, raking it back. “They’re calling for us. We’ll talk more about this later.”

“I don’t want to talk to you later, or ever for that matter.”

“Tough.”

She scowled at him. “Fine. But call my secretary and make an appointment for that talk, say...when hell freezes over.”

He took her hand and started them back down the stairs. “Don’t be a bitch, Angie. It doesn’t look good on you.”

She flinched, wrenching her hand, but he didn’t let go.

“You know, T. Women aren’t naturally bitchy. It’s men that make them that way.”

He drew them to a stop, tipping his chin down and meeting her angry gaze. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

“Yes, it was.” Still fuming, she didn’t give him an inch.

“Can we call a truce and get through this mission? When we get home, we’ll find a way to work together.”

With her mouth set in annoyance, she considered his proposed cease-fire. After a moment, she nodded. “Truce,” she agreed, adding, “but you pissed me off royally, T.”

“I get that.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“Sorry, darlin’. That’s a promise if given, I’d surely break.”

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