Page 27 of Under Fire

He grabbed her hand as she fell forward, pleading with him. Intertwining her fingers with his, he pulled her down a little more until he could breathe on her. He smelled so damn good. And, God, she could never get enough of those cold blue eyes—eyes that she was sure had seen a lot.

“The rule is…I’m the boss.”

She let out a sigh as he ran his hand up her thigh, giving her the chills.

“Now, get that damn dress on,” he growled at her, licking his lips as he savored her cleavage. “Before you make me fuck you.”

And so she did.

Slipping into the super tight mini-dress, she pulled the thin straps up her shoulders, adjusting the fabric to cover her ass.

“It’s perfect,” he said definitively, nodding. “You’re perfect.”

“Come on.”

It was someone else’s style, she thought, catching a glimpse of herself in her cheap over-the-door mirror. She drew her long hair over her shoulder, shaking her head at her reflection.

He wrapped his firm grip around her waist, heaving her backward, forcing her to fall into his lap. He held her arm with one hand, her face with the other—turning her to look at him and only at him. She didn’t miss the approval in his eyes.

“I can’t wear this,” she said.

The harder he gripped her jaw, staring down into her eyes, the more he drew a little grin across her lips. It was so wrong how much she enjoyed it when he overpowered her. All she could fantasize about was how savage she could make him.

“How about we revisit a blouse and jeans combo?” she said.

“No—the dress.”

“Warren—”

“Are you challenging me?” he demanded.

“No,” she whispered, playing into the game.

“You mean—no,Sir,” he growled.

A pause between them, and all Alisa could feel was his steady breathing and the wetness pooling in her lacy panties. There was no denying how much she wanted to feel him over her.

“The dress,” he said again. “Don’t change.”

She bit her lip. “Yes, Sir.”

Alisa grasped that if she wanted to play the game, she just had to own it and be the hot-blooded woman that apparently still lived, if not just deep inside. There was no halfway anymore.

“I should finish getting ready.” She tried to get up.

He slammed her back onto his rock-hard thighs again. Authoritative. Commanding.

“You mean—can I please finish getting ready?” He stared into her eyes, heated and intense. It was clear that she wasn’t the only person getting aroused.

“Can I please finish…getting ready, Sir?” Alisa replied slowly, trying not to look like she was melting on top of him.

“Hurry the fuck up,” he snarled as he pushed her up, leaving her in his wake as he headed toward the front door. “And don’t forget the heels.”

The glint of intensity in his eye caught her off guard—the last look he gave her before he marched through her door, ostensibly heading down to start his truck. Hearing the roaring sound in the parking lot, she validated that was the case. Everything suddenly became so surreal.

He was waiting forher. To takeherto a party. To presentheras his girlfriend.

Twenty-five years of life on the earth, and she’d never experienced anything like it. She’d never seen anyone likehim. How was she going to pull it off for seven days?

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