Page 25 of Corrupted Deception

It was the scent of bergamot and sandalwood right before his hands grabbed hold of me from behind and his body shoved me forward, closing the door.

The metal was cool beneath my cheek, and it radiated through the thin layer of my shirt, a stark contrast to the hard heat that covered me from my shoulders to the backs of my thighs.

A shiver of fear rippled down my spine even as my skin tingled where he pressed against me.

“If you’re going for the creepy-stalker vibe, nice job,” I said flippantly, resisting the urge to fight him. “I’m definitely creeped out here.”

“You’re lucky you’re still breathing,” he spoke quietly against my ear. “Felipe Espinosa is long dead, and Cade Finley doesn’t exist. You lied to me,temptesta.”

Something clenched painfully in my chest.

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped.

He chuckled then leaned away far enough to spin me around to face him. At the same time, I slid the gun in my hand between us, pressing the barrel against his chest.

Bet you weren’t expecting that,I thought triumphantly until he cocked an eyebrow at me, looking far more amused than a man with a gun pointed at him should look.

In some fast two-handed move, he managed to get the gun off me, then he forced me back against the door, my body wedged between the warehouse and his body, so close, I could feel the grooves and planes of his chest.

Talk about a short-lived victory.

“You lied to me,” he said, his voice too quiet, too calm. One-hundred percent shiver-worthy. “And you pulled a gun on me.”

I stared up into his icy eyes. They felt cold and hot at the same time—which you’d think would have made them lukewarm, but no. Definitely not.

I gulped.

“Do you want to know how many people have done either of those things and lived to tell about it,tempesta?”

“Don’t call me that,” I tried to snap, but it came out lukewarm at best.

He smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t think you’re in any position to bark demands.”

Well, maybe not, but he’d bested me two-for-two here, and that was kind of pissing me off. But then again, we were playinghisgame, not mine.

I let my body relax against him and shifted my thigh so that it rested between his legs, but dear Lord, I had not been expecting to find him hard. There was no mistaking the rather impressive erection my thigh had found and no stopping the gasp that slipped out of my mouth before I could swallow it back.

Arousal flooded my body, but at least I wasn’t the only one effected here. His hands tightened around my arms, and the cold in his eyes gave way to heat. Ice-blue heat.

I rubbed my thigh against him as I licked my lips and tilted my head up. All the times before, this part had been an act, a carefully scripted scheme.

It felt too real now.

It wasn’t an act when my breath started to come harder or when my nipples grew taut and the friction of his chest against them sent waves of pulsing heat to my core.

I looked at his lips, full lips just like I remembered them, but the scruff of a five-o’clock shadow around them was darker now.

He’d grown, become one-hundred percent man.

Potent male.

How many times had I fantasized about kissing him?

Thousands, at least, in all the days he’d spent with me.

And all the nights he hadn’t.

Amidst the arousal, old hurt and anger bubbled up.

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