She wanted him so badly but she couldn’t have him.
A heavy silence filled the room. She sat fuming at the apparent ease with which he could continue working. He had such focus despite her proximity whereas she was practically having a meltdown. She couldn’t resist jibing at him.
‘People are saying we’re having an affair.’ Her tone was as bitter as burnt coffee grinds.
‘Really?’ Rory didn’t look up from his screen. ‘I’m surprised. They know I don’t usually fool around in the office.’
‘And why don’t you usually?’ Lissa demanded, anger sparking within her.
‘Work’s work and play’s play,’ he replied easily, his eyes still fixed on the computer before him.
‘And never the twain shall meet?’ she asked tartly. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt the need to goad him. To prove he wasn’t as immune as he appeared.
‘It’s easier that way. Otherwise how do you concentrate on work?’ Suddenly he jerked his head up and glared at her. She shrank at the blaze in his eyes. He continued, his volume rising with every word. ‘How do you cope if the woman you’ve fallen for is sitting across from you, only inches away, and yet you can’t reach out and touch her the way you want to? How the hell do you get any work done?’ He swore viciously and pushed the keyboard away.
Satisfaction slammed into her. But still she continued prodding brazenly. ‘So you’d rather out of sight, out of mind?’
‘No,’ he replied with a mirthless laugh. ‘Never out of mind. But it makes it damn hard to concentrate on bloody numbers when you’re wearing a slightly see-through blouse and all I want to do is rip it off to see what’s underneath it properly.’
Heat consumed her. Heart thudding, she stood and reached for her suit jacket. Just as quickly he rose and came around the table. He reached out a hand and grasped her wrist. His grip was hard. Her jacket fell to the floor. They stood staring at each other. She was certain he could feel the frantic tempo of her pulse. She watched as he lowered his gaze to her lips, then down to her chest. With a deep breath she realised her breasts had tightened and swollen. He stared at them and they tightened still further. With her arm outstretched pulling the fabric of her shirt taut across her body, she knew there was no way he could fail to see their aroused outline. He looked back up at her face. His pupils were so large there was only the smallest ring of dazzling emerald around them.
‘Feeling cold?’ he mocked.
Desire and anger merged and grew. She was so close to the edge. She sucked her lips in and bit down on them, trying to suppress the throbbing desire, wishing the pressure on them could be his lips rather than her own teeth. Then she took a breath. ‘Practically hypothermic.’
The hint of a smile softened his blazing stare. The pressure of his hand on her wrist grew and he pulled her towards him. His other hand came up and cradled her jaw, his thumb sweeping down from her cheek to her chin in soft strokes.
‘Why do you care so much what they think? You don’t do what you want because you think people might say something behind your back. Why should you even care?’
She stared up at him. He was wrong. It wasn’t about other people. She didn’t do what she wanted because she knew from past experience that it would be the worst thing for her. An office affair was a fantasy that invariably ended as a nightmare. The environment was false; you worked as a close unit for a short time, living in each other’s pockets. Adrenaline and excitement gave an unnatural high. It wasn’t the real world and who knew what secrets were in Rory’s life outside the office? What would happen when he was locked away in another project room with another temp he might find attractive?
His thumb continued its gentle stroking. The response in her bones was not so gentle. Despite what her brain was telling her, she wanted him badly.
‘Let’s really give them something to talk about,’ he said softly, his focus on her mouth. His thumb stroked her lips. They parted a fraction. He stroked his thumb across again, pushing it in slightly so she felt it brush against her tongue. Her desire to taste him intimately flared.
‘If they’re all thinking it, it seems a shame not to make the most of it.’ He looked down at her, hesitating.
‘What do you want from me?’ She stared at him, feeling tortured.
He looked at her with such solemn intensity that she knew she was about to get a painfully honest answer.
‘Everything. I want to touch you, taste you. I want to see you writhe in pleasure. I want to see you lose control.’
‘Why?’ She barely recognised the croaky whisper as her own.
He gave a wry smile. ‘It would make me feel good.’
‘What—to have control over me?’
‘No.’ His eyes darkened in frustration. ‘Not like that. I want to know that I can touch you in ways that drive you crazy, that I can satisfy you.’
Her eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t try to hide it. Her head ached and she was using all her energy to stay on her feet. She couldn’t possibly hide anything from him right now. She answered huskily. ‘You should know that already.’
His eyes blazed, boring into hers. ‘Are you going to let me?’
‘I don’t think I have much choice.’
He growled. ‘Of course you do. You decide.’
‘I’m sick of fighting it.’
‘Fighting me?’
‘No, fighting me.’
His thumb continued rubbing her jaw gently and his gaze dropped to her mouth again.
She knew he wanted to kiss her but he held firm, watching, waiting for her to acquiesce. He seemed to be holding heaven out to her and all she had to do was lean forward and take it from him. The long days and even longer nights of loneliness and want and need overwhelmed her. She blanked the future, no longer caring, no longer able to think. All that mattered right now was this.
Her control snapped. ‘I want you to touch me,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘I want you.’
She didn’t just agree, she became the aggressor. It was what she had been wanting for so long. With a speed and strength that surprised both of them she reached up and ran both hands through his hair, pulling his head down to meet her hungry mouth. She licked and tasted him. Vaguely she heard him groan and then she moaned in delight as he pulled her hard up against him. They met length to length. She let him take her weight. He held her easily. The pressure of his hard chest against her sensitive breasts was dynamite. She squirmed her hips against his, her delight at feeling his arousal rendering her unable to control her writhing action. They were the perfect height for each other. Her long legs ensured that they met in the middle, just where they were supposed to. He put his hands on her hips and gripped hard, holding her while he slowly rocked against her, simulating the closer connection that she craved. And all the while their lips, teeth and tongues swirled and danced in a kiss so passionate she never wanted it to end, never wanted any of it to end.
But it wasn’t enough. She was desperate to feel his bare skin against hers. Desperate to have him touch her intimately, taste her, suck her, fill her. She tugged at his shirt and moaned in frustration when it wouldn’t give. He pulled back from her slightly.
‘Lissa,’ he said raggedly. ‘Lissa, we can’t.’
It was not what she wanted to hear. A feral growl escaped her and she reached up for him again. He held his head back firmly. ‘They might come back any minute.’
Who? she wondered, half crazed. Right now she didn’t give a damn.
He swore softly. ‘Hell, beautiful, why did you have to pick tonight of all nights?’