Page 42 of Built to Last

Thank god it wasn’t just me. I know I should tell him to run, but I’m physically incapable. I’m standing in front of this man I loathe, and I can’t think of anything except getting my hands on him. “I still hate you.”

His eyes flash and he moves in, my words not stopping him at all. “And I still think you’re a stubborn, annoying harpy. You are not my type.”

“And you aren’t mine,” I hiss back.

Then I can’t think straight because his mouth is on mine, those big hands of his on my hips, pulling me close. The kiss immediately goes wild. The flash fire that’s been building between us can no longer be denied. He kisses me like I’m water and he’s been alone in the desert for days. Eternity. His tongue surges in, finding mine, and we fight for dominance. Every stroke of his tongue goes straight to that part of me that has taken over all thinking. I no longer care that this is a mistake. This will almost certainly come back to haunt me in the worst way, but I don’t care. I do care about getting his shirt off and feeling his warm skin against my hands.

I tug at his T-shirt, and he briefly lets me go so he can drag it over his head and toss it away.

“Now you.” He nods my way, and his words come out on the grunty side.

I like caveman Reid. I pull my T off and let it drop to the floor.

He moves back in, towering over me in the sexiest way. “We should go to my place.”

That’s not realistic. “You have two minutes before my brain takes over again. This is a terrible idea, and if we’re going to make this mistake it’s going to be in the next five to ten minutes. No one’s here. They’ve all gone home. Kiss me now or we can go back to screaming at each other about floating shelves.”

He growls my way. “Annoying woman.”

But his fingers sink into my hair, and he practically inhales me. I wrap myself around him, luxuriating in the feel of his body against mine. So long. It’s been too long since I had this thrill of lust. If I’m honest, I never felt this way. Never been swept up into anything. I think things through. I do the right thing.

This time wrong feels so right.

When he tugs on my hair, I let my nails dig in slightly, rewarded with a hiss and a nip to my earlobe that I swear goes straight to all my pink parts.

His hands go to the waistband of my jeans, and he unbuttons the fly. I manage to somehow toe out of my boots before he drags the pants right off me. I toss them away, and I hear something crash. My head turns, and his hands come up to bring my attention back to him.

“Not now. This now.”

I love the fact that he seems to mostly cling to one-syllable words when he guts lusty. It makes me forget about whatever we broke. Makes me forget about anything but him and the way his hands brush over my skin like he needs to touch every inch of me. “This now.”

There will be time enough for me to pound my head against a wall tomorrow. I’ll do it anyway, so I’m going to have the pleasure he’s promising me now.

Somehow everything seems to go soft and wild. Like the world isn’t as hard edged as it always seems. While he’s definitely into this, there’s something gentle in his touch. And then he’ll nip me like he wants a taste. It’s a wild combination I’ve never felt before, and it’s got my head spinning.

His hands cup my rear, and he lifts me up. “I wanted this from the moment I saw you. Never wanted anything the way I want this.”

He sets me on the kitchen island. It’s huge and his pelvis aligns perfectly with the edge. Like someone designed it for a throwdown when the couple who owned the place didn’t want to go up two flights of stairs to get to a bed.

He moves between my legs, nestling against my core, and I can feel how much his words are true. “Tell me you want me.”

There’s no place for lying here. We can do that later. I won’t even lie to myself here. “You know I do. You know I wanted you the moment I saw you, and then I discovered what a massive ass you are. And I still want this.”

“We need this,” he says on a low groan.

“Maybe if we have this, we’ll be able to think straight again.” Well, maybe I lie a little to myself. Or maybe I’m finally being honest and this is absolutely what we needed all along.

I gasp as his hand finds my breast, thumb rasping over the rock-hard nipple. He traces the areole and then leans over, kissing his way down my torso, starting at my neck and pressing his lips every few inches until he licks his tongue right over that desperate nipple.

I groan and my back flexes, offering him more and more.

He takes it. He takes everything I’m offering him. He plays with my breasts, sucking on my nipples and lavishing them with affection. He kisses his way down my belly, right to the band of my undies before slipping his thumbs under them and tugging them off me. They join the rest of our clothes.

“Lie back,” he commands.

“Reid, it’s…” I begin, ready to tell him it’s chilly.

He gets to his knees and brings my ankles up so my feet are placed on his shoulders and I’m open and utterly vulnerable to him. Also, I’m suddenly not cold. The granite underneath me can’t touch my inner temperature, which is skyrocketing because he’s looking up my body, our eyes locking even as he lowers his mouth.

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