by Nana Malone
He'd been in a semi state of hardness since seeing her tonight. He had to get that shit way the hell under control. The problem was every time she touched him it was like some kind of primal mating call or something. Think about something else. Anything else. "So how long were you in Cornerton?"
"About two months, during the height of everything." She shook her head. "I've been terrified before, but that was just some next level kind of stuff. There were some people taking advantage of the situation, and the tensions of course, to loot and look after themselves. But then, most people were just trying to live and peacefully protest. There was this martial law attitude going around. The authorities had an extremely heavy hand. It was scary. I was just trying to avoid getting tear gassed or worse. But, the adrenaline, it is sort of addictive. You know what I mean?"
"I do. That's how I feel every time I get sent to a war zone. It’s dangerous, but there's a part of me that thrives on that."
They walked in companionable silence for a moment before he just asked the one thing that had been on his mind since that morning. "You want to talk about that thing in the elevator today? Or are we going to pretend that didn’t happen? I just want to know so I know what to do with it going forward."
She sighed, and then veered to the left. "I don’t know what—"
"You were there, Jaggar. Rubbing your ass into my crotch."
Her face flamed. "Would you be quiet? I have neighbors."
She stopped in front of a house just off the beaten path. Probably would have been safe for her to walk, but he was glad he hadn’t taken her at her word.
She tugged on her purse. "What I was going to say is I don’t know what happened. It was crowded. It certainly won't happen again."
He took a step into her space. "It was crowded? That's all you got for me? I've been hard since just before ten this morning and all you've got is, 'It was crowded'?"
Her eyes went wide. "You were the one with your hands on my hips holding on as if you were terrified I'd stop."
His eyes rounded. “Terrif— You are such a damn pain in the ass. Fine, pretend all you want. We were both there. I just want to know one thing, Jaggar, and I'll drop it."
She tilted her chin even as she closed the gap between their bodies. "What's that?"
His gaze dropped to her lips and he could almost taste her. With the moonlight in her hair and her so close, he could feel her warmth, sense her heartbeat. "Were you wet?"
Her lips parted with a short gasp and her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. She was so fucking sexy. Her voice was whisper soft. "Did you want me to be?"
Every sense was on high alert. She smelled fucking incredible. Like summer strawberries. What the fuck, Styles? Back away, back away now, said his brain. But his cock still remembered the way she’d turned her hips into him, that deliberate switch to make him hard. Yeah, his cock had a good point. And she smelled too good.
"You look like you want to say something to me, Griffin."
"It was a simple question, Jaggar. Were you wet? Are you wet now?" His heart made a valiant attempt to jump out of his chest. His body had shut out all ambient noise. All he could hear was her voice. All he could feel was the whisper of her breath. All he could focus on was her full lips, slightly parted.
"Yes. I was wet then. As far as now, not yet, but I will be in a minute."
Fuck. This was a bad idea on so many levels. Terrible. Ill advised. Moronic. But fuck it. With a groan, he pulled her to him tight and brushed his lips over hers, waiting for her consent. Waiting for her to give him the real answer. Either she wanted him or not. If not, he would walk away and just like the elevator, they'd pretend it never happened.
He waited for it. Willed it even. Prayed that she had the willpower that he seemed to lack right about now. But then she sighed, making room to welcome his tongue. And like a fool, he followed the siren straight into the rocks.
Instead of tasting like Long Island Iced Tea, she tasted like mint. She must have popped one when he wasn’t looking. Sweet, with a hint of bite. She arched her back into his body as they kissed, his tongue delving in deep. He ran his hands into that dark as sin hair, anchoring and angling her head so he could deepen the kiss.
In seconds, they were out of control, with her tugging at his T-shirt and pulling him into her. He tugged her hair and with his other hand cupped her ass, bringing her cleft in direct contact with his pulsing erection. Yes. Fuck, she tasted good. The misery he'd been going through for weeks; he'd needed this, needed her.
He changed the angle and picked her up, carrying her a few steps to her door so he could brace her properly and her hips rolled.
The combination was heady: her taste, her scent, the way her body melded to his. He braced her against the wall and his cock nestled against her cleft. She rocked her hips, sliding her sweet heat over his hard erection and he was ready to combust. Ready to blow apart and take her with him.
All he wanted was to get closer, faster, harder. More. With her hands wound around his neck, and his hips pressing into that juncture between her thighs, his hands were free to explore. And God, he'd been dying to touch her for months. Her hair, that glorious inky black hair, and her skin was just as soft as he thought, like warm satin under his fingertips.
He slid a hand under the hem of her top. She arched into the caress as his hand skimmed up her taut, flat belly. Taking his time, he teased each rib, wanting to touch as much as she'd allow him to.
God he hoped she allowed him to. With each breath, her breathing grew more and more shallow. She made this sexy mewling sound at the back of her throat, and his cock jerked in his jeans. It was part plea, part mating call.
He dragged his lips away from hers in an attempt to get a clearer head, but instead, he kissed along her jawline. Then found that hollow behind her ear. Chants of his name fell off her tongue like a plea. "Griffin, Griffin, Griffin." It was like a drug, as her voice seemed to get louder and louder. Telling him what he wanted to hear. Fuck it, hike up her skirt and take her here against a wall, in full view of anyone who dares to look. He was helpless to stop himself, her unseen power binding him to her.
"Fuck, Jaggar." For the first time in his life, he had no idea what to say to a woman in his arms. He was so awestruck.
His thumb teased the underside of her breast, covered in lace and then he slid up and he slid his thumb over the thin scrap of lace covering her nipple. Her cries would be loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but he didn’t give a fuck. What he wanted was the two of them naked in her bed, not stopping until he was buried deep, with her beneath him, on top of him, in front of him. Shit, any way he could have her, he was all about that.
He pressed gently, circling the hardening tip and a growl tore out of her throat. "Harder."
His head snapped up and he pinned her with his gaze. She wanted him to pinch her nipples? Fuck, he was more than happy to oblige. With his thumb and forefinger, he tugged the fabric down, exposing her breast. When he plucked at her nipple with his fingers, she dug her hands into his hair and tugged. "Oh God, Griffin. So good."
So responsive. There was a clawing kitten hiding under the exterior of sweet Jaggar. And he liked it. "Do you want me to use my teeth next time?"
She shivered and her hips rocked into his again and the tingles started in his spine. "You must taste like fucking heaven.” He wanted to yank up her blouse and suck her into his mouth and not stop until he’d given her an orgasm like that.
But a noise in the distance broke into their trance. A bottle breaking, footsteps stepping into the crunchy glass. Shit.
What the fuck was he doing? He released her gently, setting her feet back onto the concrete. "Go inside, Jaggar," he muttered through clenched teeth. Every cell in his body told him to kiss her again, to go inside with her. To fuck her until neither of them could walk.
"What?" Her eyes were heavy lidded and hazy. She looked sexy. Confused.
"Go inside."
"But I thought—"
“G
o. Inside," he said more firmly. "I'm going home. But I'm not leaving until you're inside."
"You’re not coming in?"
He swallowed hard. Stay strong. Stay strong. Stay strong. "No."
Her brows snapped down as she glared at him, but she picked up the purse she'd dropped, then unlocked the door and walked in. He stood there on her doorstep for several minutes after she'd shut the door in his face.
He'd wanted to go in. Damn, she'd wanted him to go in. But now that his brain was coming back online, he knew it was a bad idea. Touching her was a bad idea. The electricity might have jumped off the charts when he was with her, but he knew better than to shit where he ate. He just had to keep himself from touching her again. Somehow he had a feeling that would be easier said than done.
6
What the hell had she been thinking? You weren’t thinking, that was the point. Jaggar massaged her temple as she opened the door to TVN studios. She'd woken with a hangover all right, but it hadn’t been of the alcohol variety. It was more of the sexually frustrated variety. And then the holy fuck, she’d made out with Griffin Styles variety.
Just thinking his name made her belly go into auto flip and send a whole bunch of unwanted tingles straight to her lady parts. His hands, his thumb over her nipple, the way his hips had pressed her into the alcove of her door, his hands in her hair, his tongue delving in expertly, making her want more, making her crave more.
Recipe. For. Disaster. Because the jackass had left her hanging. It's not like she hadn’t already made the mistake of making out with him. If she was going to do that, then she might as well have slept with him too. At least she wouldn’t feel like this. Hungry and needy and desperate.
Yeah, that's some sound logic. She should be thanking her fucking lucky stars. Right about now, she couldn’t blame the momentary insanity on the alcohol. She'd had one drink. Granted it was pretty alcoholic and she'd been buzzing, but she had been nowhere near drunk. She'd mainly been completely out of her mind with lust.
Which was ridiculous, because under normal circumstances, the strongest feeling she had toward Griffin Styles was disgust. And annoyance. And disdain. All those words damn it. She didn't want him. Liar. Okay fine. Her body wanted him, but that was stupid and ridiculous and all she had to do was employ some fucking mind over matter.
It was bad enough that half the men in this building pretty much thought she was a blow up Bratz doll, but she worked hard to keep the likable, sweet, but hard working mask on. So most of the time she didn’t blurt out and say what she really thought. Because you can’t say that shit to your boss. Or rather your boss's boss.
So now, she was skulking around the building, trying to avoid Griffin. And what the fuck was she going to say to him anyway? Yeah, last night with your tongue in my mouth when I was pretty much ready to beg you to fuck me outside and you pulled back ... remember that? Yeah, can we do that again? Except this time, you give me a mind-blowing orgasm and then we can go back to hating each other.
Yeah ... no.
Not going to work for her. No, she'd do what every other grown woman did in her position. She'd avoid him like the plague and ghost his ass. She'd heard of famous actresses that pulled this off all the time. They’d made the mistake of sleeping with someone, then had to see them at work and on set, and pretended the other person didn't exist. She could do that right?
She took the back elevator to her office and down the still dark hallway. The way she figured it, she could at least avoid the heavily trafficked areas. And he never made it in this early so she'd be safe ... at least until eight o’clock or so. But as she turned the corner for her office, she found a team of movers packing up her stuff.
The flush of panic was quick and nearly choking. Had everything been yanked away from her? Had they seen through her and realized she was faking it and had no idea what she was doing half the time? They knew that she wasn't as good as she claimed. She sucked in choppy short breaths as she stared at the movers.
One of them looked up and smiled. "Oh hello, Miss Jakes. Sorry, we were meant to have this done before you came in today."
He was smiling. Why was he smiling? Was it a big joke that she'd been fired? "E-excuse me?"
He smacked his head. "You're being moved to an office two floors up." He handed her a slip of paper with the new office number written on it. "Congratulations. That one has a window. I guess it comes with the promotion."
Promotion ... window ... Her brain gears slowly came online and she blinked when the words finally started to make sense. She was getting a bigger office. No one knew she was faking it until she made it. This was a product of a job well done.
So, they didn’t know she was a total fraud then? Suddenly it was easier to breathe. "Oh, uh, thank you."
"Sure thing. If you want to head up, you can. Your new desk and your chair are set up and we’ve already set up your docking station for your laptop. We'll just bring all the rest of your stuff. Here's your key."
"That's great. Thank you." A new office. Well, it seemed like the day wasn't going to be too bad after all. She took the elevator and didn’t bother worrying about Griffin anymore. Well, not entirely true, but she told herself she wasn't worried about him.
The only thing she could do about that situation was not do it again. No matter how much she kept thinking about his hands, his taste, or the press of what seemed like a very impressive erection.
Damn it, stop. The elevator doors opened and she followed the signs to her new office, 405. It had a pseudo open-concept feel with lowered massive cubicles and huge windows. She was the one on her right. This she could work with. Already the area was twice as big as her old office. She could actually spread out in here.
She always avoided bringing personal things to work or moving into her office too much because there was no space. But she might even be able to bring a picture here.
She settled in and started with her emails first as she knew that there was a 9:00 a.m. meeting with Barbara and Ryan.
Her gut clenched just thinking about Ryan. From the moment she’d started, she’d always been cordial to him, but no matter what she did, he continued to act like an asshole, reinforcing the reason why she pretended to have a boyfriend since starting. Most guys just couldn’t take the ‘I'm not interested’ thing to heart without taking it personally. Like Ryan. After the welcome mixer, she’s learned to just steer clear unless absolutely necessary.
She saw the list of story potentials the execs had been bantering around and made notes of points of interest for each of them and did some quick Google research so she'd be prepared for the meeting.
She never liked going into anything blind. At eight on the dot, she heard footsteps down the hall, which confused her because no one ever came in until nine. At least not in this studio, with all the primetime shows. Most of this team worked from home all morning and came in at ten since for the most part they had later shifts.
When Griffin stalked into the office, her breath caught. He was her damn roommate? He hesitated when he saw her, their gazes locking for a split second. He gave her a brusque head nod before taking his seat.
Wait, that was it? Zero acknowledgment other than that? No sniping, muttered comments, no nothing? What the hell? He was ghosting her?
She couldn’t explain the fury she felt, considering that had been her plan, but she so wasn’t down for this shit. He couldn’t just pretend she wasn't there.
The seeds of doubt started to sprout and she mentally shut them down. This is his shit, not your shit. If he wanted to pretend, then fine by her. Apparently the Griffin she'd met last night, the one who was less of an asshole had been an aberration. Well, two could play at that game. She could pretend last night didn't happen too. Never mind that now that he'd touched her, now that she knew what he tasted like, all her body wanted was to have it again.
No. No more Griffin. She had to work with him, but she was never letting him touch her again. And considering how Ryan felt about her, she woul
d be wise to stay away from his protégé.
Damn, she smelled good. Griffin deliberately kept his gaze on his laptop. The new office setup was similar to the one downstairs, only in that they were across from each other, but this one was way swankier.
One major problem with the new digs, though. He could hear her voice, her mutterings to herself as she made notes. Her voice was throaty and seductive and all he wanted in the world right about now was to hear it whisper his name again and again and again. Actually, strike that. He wanted to hear it while he was buried so deep inside her, he couldn't remember his own damn name. That's what he wanted. Not going to happen.
Last night had been ...
Hot. Mind blowing. Epic. He could spend a whole night just kissing her and be perfectly okay with that. Just kissing her was enough to send the tingles all over his fucking body. Oh yeah, then why didn't you fuck her?
Yeah, why hadn't he? Because she was the competition. Because he knew he was going to have to see her today. Or fuck, maybe because he knew that once wouldn’t be enough.
Shit. All of the above. He didn't know. Hell, he couldn’t even explain or rationalize why he'd kissed her in the first place. She'd been standing there, they'd been talking, and then, he'd just ... just what? Lost his damn mind, that's what. If she'd have let him, he'd have fucked her right in her doorway last night.
But that's not something he could do. He knew the rules to be the best, to stay on top. Letting women in, especially women like Jaggar Jakes, got in the way of that. His father taught him that. So today, eyes on the mother fucking prize. No funny business. Work and stay they fuck away from her. Except, that was easier said than done. Because he could smell her, and she smelled so good.
His cock twitched. Yeah dude, I know. He'd spent a sleepless night trying to forget about her taste, how soft her skin was, that fucking smell. But it had all wound around him finding the weak spots, and then sliding in under his skin, making him itchy and tight.