Page 101 of Twisted Knight

“Good. Great. I don’t want to know how you know that.”

“You’re sexy when you’re flustered.”

“Right now I don’t want to be sexy, I just want…”

“Me?” He stands back and mock bows. “At your service.”

I close my eyes for a beat and that’s a mistake because when I do I see him standing like an Adonis at the foot of my bed with his chiseled abs and gorgeous body. I open them just as quickly as I shut them—hating myself for remembering so vividly.

I emit a frustrated huff. “I—”

“Go out with me. Tonight. Tomorrow. This weekend. I’m not picky.”

His words stagger me, and I welcome the disruption to my salacious thoughts. “No. Absolutely not. I said this couldn’t happen again.”

“No, you said we couldn’t sleep together again. You didn’t say we couldn’t go on a date again.”

“A date would lead to sex.”

“Correct. The date’s a ruse to get you under me again. Or on top. I’m not picky.” The grin he flashes is knee bending. “But I forgot. You can resist me. Easily.”

“Look. We discussed this in detail, Knight.”

“I love that you think calling me by my last name is going to make your panties less wet.”

“This has nothing to do with my panties,” I say. “And everything to do with what we talked about.”

“Which part? The one where it’s not against the law to be aroused at work?” he asks.

“How about the ‘we can’t talk about this at work’ part.”

“We’re not talking about anything,” he says and offers me a choirboy expression that is less than believable with his dark looks and dangerous grin.

“I beg to differ. We are at work.”

He laughs. “Nope. We’re between floors, Sunshine. Or we’re more on the third floor than the fourth floor, so technically we’re on Quest’s property,” he says of the company that rents the third and fourth floors of the building from us.

“If you think renters mean we still don’t own the building, then I need to be seriously worried about your business acumen,” I say while fervidly trying to deny every damn way my body reacts to his.

“And here I thought you were good with playing along.” He quirks a brow that has me looking down at his lips and then back up to his eyes. “Don’t you want to play with me, Sunshine?”

“Seriously?” I can’t help but laugh in exasperation. “You’re…”

“I know I am,” he says like it’s a badge of honor. “So where were we?” He leans in, his breath at my ear, his hardened cock against my thigh, his arms caging me against the wall.

I clear my throat. My first thought is to avoid his gaze but then realize that will only let him know he’s getting to me. So I meet him stare for stare. “We were talking about how this isn’t happening.”

He chuckles. “This is all I’ve thought about since Friday night. You. Christ, woman … you know how to make a man replay every single second. Over. And over. And…” He groans.

“Really?” I’m flattered. I’m aroused. I’m … this is not happening.

“My cock in my hand and you on my mind is nowhere near the real thing, but according to you, it’s all I’m going to get, so I’ll take it.”

“You did not.” But didn’t I do the same?

“Would you like me to show you what I did as I thought of you?” He starts unbuckling his belt with one very skilled hand.

“No. My god. No.”