Page 48 of The Single Dad Project

“I have never called you a girl. And I’ve never thought of you that way. If I did, we would have bigger issues here,” he said, setting the glass behind him. She snorted, but her dark brown eyes didn’t lose those haunted shadows. “Let’s get this clear between us. I’ve said you were inexperienced when it came to the project you were hired for. And on paper, it’s true. But anyone looking at your work wouldn’t deny your talent. Even though I told myself and you that I didn’t allow our night together to cloud my judgment, I did. And I apologize for it.”

“What was in that wine?” she murmured. “That might be the first time I’ve heard you apologize. And to me, no less. Either you’re drunk or I am.”

“Smart-ass.” He tilted his head. “Now, let’s get back to this bullshit about you being a coward.” Her eyebrows jacked up at his wording, but he leaned forward again, pushing into her personal space. “Bullshit, queen. Because that’s what it is. Cowards don’t stand up to sexual harassment even when they’re the only person willing to do it. Cowards don’t take on a business in their early twenties. Cowards don’t protect the feelings of those they love at the expense of their own. You’re not a coward or a liar. You’re a queen.” He paused, his gaze running over her face. “Queen.”

Slowly, she eased off the couch and got into his space. He inhaled her breath, tasting the sweetness of the Moscato and her. He remembered that unique flavor ofher, and it teased him. Had been teasing him—no, haunting him—for weeks. His study dropped to her mouth, to the temptation of those lush, nearly too full lips.

And as he’d been doing all night, he surrendered to it.

All the reasons why he shouldn’t touch her, especially with his mouth, evacuated his head and conscience, and he closed the last few inches separating them and took that tease of a mouth.

She parted for him, and he sank inside, his tongue seeking out and tangling with hers. They didn’t need a reintroduction; their mouths met, parted, met again. He groaned as she flicked the tip of her tongue over the roof of his mouth, and he sucked that tongue, earning an answering moan from her.

Angling his head, he dove deeper. Took more. Drew harder. The hardest task he assigned himself was keeping his hands on his knees, not pushing a thumb against her bottom lip and opening her wider for him. Not pressing his palm to the front of her throat, savoring that racing pulse against his skin. No, he did none of that because if he did... If he did, he might not walk out her apartment door. Not until tomorrow morning after they had thoroughly used each other.

He needed to end this, but then she nipped his bottom lip and slicked her tongue across it. But that didn’t soothe the sting. It tossed kindling on the fire already licking at him, demanding he take them further, give her another night of forgetfulness. And him? Give himself hours of oblivion.

With a will that belied how he hungrily thrust between her lips, he dragged his mouth away and pressed his cheek to hers. Her fast, warm pants bathed his ear and neck, twisting the screw in his gut tighter. Hardening his cock even further.

Just a little shift... One little shift and he could be kneeling between her legs, hands beneath that tank top, covering her small and utterly perfect breasts...

Shit.

“I should go,” he said, and not waiting for her agreement, or God help both of them, her objection, he shot to his feet and headed for the front door.

But halfway there, he halted. Turned. And glanced back at Flo, who remained sitting where he’d left her.

Don’t you fucking do it. Don’t do i—

“Goddamn,” he growled, sharply pivoting and striding back over to her. Bending down, he grasped her hand and gently yet firmly tugged her up.

Then he pulled her into his arms and held her.

Held her until her body relaxed against him and her sigh whispered across his chest. Slipping his fingers through her locs, he cradled her head, tipping it back.

“I can stay if you need me,” he quietly offered.

And he meant it. He’d either have to ask the Hunters if they would mind keeping Justine or bring her over here, but he’d stay. He wouldn’t be another person to walk away from her, to leave her.

“No.” She shook her head, her lashes lowering. “You’re right. You should go and get home to Jussy. I’m fine.” He didn’t say anything, and also didn’t move. And she huffed out a short chuckle, meeting his gaze again. “Okay, I will be fine. But go.”

Stepping back and out of his arms, she dipped her chin toward the front door. Part of him wanted to gather her close again and ignore her assertions of beingfine. But the other part... The part that understood she was saving them both from bad decisions, took her at her word and moved for the door.

“Adam?”

He halted, his hand on the doorknob. Looking over his shoulder, he saw, again, she stood where he’d left her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He didn’t ask for what; he nodded, opened the door and left her apartment. On the postage-stamp-size stoop, he paused and inhaled a breath that didn’t contain the sweet notes of jasmine and woodsy scents of cedarwood.

Shaking his head, he descended the staircase and tried to convince himself his errand was completed, time to head home and put this behind him. He and Flo had cleared the air, too, so they could continue as coworkers without any lingering awkwardness.

Well, damn.

Turned out he was a pretty good liar.

CHAPTER TEN

---