HE IS KISSING ME.
Henry Locke is kissing me. My shoulder blades press against the rough wall. It feels good. He feels good. My breath sounds ragged inside our kiss. Hands wander over my skin.
And he kisses me. Beautifully. Cradling the back of my head. Like I matter.
I melt into him, into the feel of his strong hands and the texture of his voice. I know itâs wrong, but Iâm so deep into the pleasure of him I might need a series of decompression chambers to get out.
I donât know whatâs happening and I donât even care. He could ask anything and Iâd say yes.
I never dreamed I could feel like this with a guy. Like heâs waking up something in me that died a long time ago.
He starts undoing my buttons. He breaks the kiss, but he keeps going with the buttons.
My gaze falls to his fingers. Warmth blooms between my legs. I want to kiss his fingers but I donât want him to stop. I love the way they feel. Feather-light brushes at my chest.
âSo superior,â I say.
âWhen given complete control,â he says, all rumbly. Itâs hot when he says that.
And then he pauses, midbutton.
Like he just thought of somewhere he had to be, or maybe he left the stove on.
He kisses again. He pulls back.
And he smiles.
And all the warmth drains out of me. Itâs his fake smile. His billion-dollar camera smile. The smile he uses to charm and direct his minions.
Heâs seducing me.
âOh my god. So not happening.â I push him away.
He steps back, gaze on my face. âWhat?â
âWhat?â I echo. âJust another business problem with a business solution. And the solution is your magic peen? Is that it?â
I donât wait for an answer. I grab my purse and sweep Smuckers up into my arms. âYouâre not going to get your way by fooling me, and youâre sure not going to get it like this. Smuckers and I are so out of here.â
âVickyââ
I put up a hand for him to talk to. Itâs a bit 2003, but everything is relative.