Page 63 of Shark’s Edge

“Asshole?” she squeaked.

I gawked at her from where I sat.

“You think I’m an asshole?” I nearly whispered, actually feeling wounded.

“Not really. But a lot of people do,” she quickly corrected.

“They can go fuck themselves.” I shook my head dismissively. “I only care what you think. Whether I’m crazy for admitting that out loud is yet to be determined.” I had to look away. I couldn’t maintain eye contact while I waited to be gutted by her possible rejection.

“No. I like you. That’s the problem. As foolish as it may be, I can’t deny it. I like you, Sebastian.”

I moved faster than she could track. One second, I was sitting where I had been the entire conversation, and the next I was crowding her against the back cushions of the sofa where she was sitting. My thigh pressed along hers, the heat of my body melting into the heat of hers. We could burn this damn building to the ground.

I toyed with the apron tie under her thick ponytail. I wanted nothing more than to undo the knot and tug the front down, pull her T-shirt up, and lick my way from her navel to her lips, imprinting myself there so she’d feel sinful even considering speaking Viktor Blake’s name again.

“Whoa,” she whispered, eyes enormous and watchful, so full of arousal.

“What? What is it, Little Red?”

“I’m . . . I’m not sure. The look on your face. You look like you could eat me alive right now.”

I laughed deep in my throat. “Oh, baby”—I shook my head—“if you only knew the things I want to do to you with my mouth.” I leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose and then pulled back.

She kept her eyes closed for a few seconds, and when she finally opened them again, she looked even more aroused than before.

“Sinful things, Little Red . . . ” Like lightning, an idea struck me. “Hey, let’s go away for the weekend. Get out of this town and away from the distractions.”

“Whaaa?” she squawked.

“Away. Weekend. Follow along, Ms. Gibson. It’s not that complicated,” I teased, hopping up from the sofa. She followed, and we both stood in front of my desk.

“Okay, maybe you are an asshole.” She was the one grinning then, so I knew the teasing tables had turned. This girl would give as good as she got.

“I’ll take care of all the plans. You just clear your schedule. I’ll have Terryn email you the details.” It was as good as done. When I made up my mind, things happened.

“But I—” she protested, but I held up my hand, basically ending our talk.

“It’s settled, then.” I bulldozed right past any objections she was thinking up by taking her roughly in my arms and kissing her. When I released her, her cheeks were flushed, lips a bit swollen, and eyes dazed.

“But I—” she said again before I cut her off.

“Ms. Gibson, I have a ton of work ahead of me today. So, unless you want to have a preview of how we’re going to spend the better part of the weekend, right here on the top of my desk? I suggest you hurry on your way.”

I gave her a very wolfish grin while ushering her to the door.

“Check your email.” I winked and all but pushed her out the door for the second time in our very short time of knowing each other. But this time, the promise of much better things danced in my imagination.

Chapter Eleven

Abbi

It was officially the day that couldn’t get any more bizarre—until it had.

Sebastian Shark had devastated me.

Had melted me with his contrition. Gutted me with his naughtiness. Rocked me with his growling protectiveness—before turning me to mush with his dominant passion.

He’d teased me about having his way with me on his desk, right then and there.