“What else do you think happened to me today?”
“Stepped in a piece of gum? Bumped into a trashcan? Dealt with assholes at work? That was just a story. It was just a report. It hardly merits this level of reaction.”
How can she be so even-keeled? “You took my business apart on your show. My parties are not the human algorithm. And online dating is not the solution.”
She simply shrugs, flicking an errant strand of hair off her shoulder, like this is all no big deal. “Easton, I call it like I see it. You may have had some success. And good on you. But these parties aren’t accessible to everybody. The price is high, they’re overdone, and the reality is there’s romance for everyone out there.” She gestures to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “People can meet in the strangest of ways. It’s happened to me. And the whole idea that your way is the best way is, frankly, irritating.”
My nostrils flare, and a dragon of anger thrashes inside me. “You’ve seen it happen in your own life? Is that what you mean? Are you talking about some guy?”
Her eyes turn wickedly curious. “Are you . . . jealous?” She sounds far too delighted for my own good.
“Yes,” I seethe, stepping closer. “Yes, I’m fucking jealous.”
“Why?” She steps closer too. “Because I’ve dated other men?”
I shrug. “Evidently I am.”
“I had a feeling.” She leans in even more and stage whispers, “So, I’m also going to tell you something really important.”
“Yes?”
Eyes narrowed, she gets right up in my face. “You need to get over yourself. Because the piece wasn’t about you. Past men I’ve dated aren’t about you. None of that is about you. So, let it go.”
“I thought we had some sort of understanding,” I seethe.
She points at my chest. “Yes, and it goes like this. I do my job, and you do your job. And while we’re at it, you’re ridiculously sexy and it drives me crazy. Your mind excites me. Your letters thrill me and that bugs the hell out of me. But I’m still going to do my job. And that’s what I did today. My job.”
I’m positive I’ve never been this aroused.
But, holy hell, there’s more—did she just say she’s just as turned on as I am?
I swallow roughly. “My letters thrill you?”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised.”
My lips twitch in a grin. “So, what are we going to do about this?”
Her hand darts up to grab the collar of my shirt and tugs me close. “What we should have done the night we met.”
She nibbles on the corner of those lush red lips. The fact that she took a moment to put on her lipstick makes me even harder. We’re talking redwood tree levels here.
“We need to fuck it out,” I agree.
Her dreamy brown eyes glitter with desire. Her fist tightens around my collar. “And we need to fuck it out right now.”
I rope an arm around her waist, splaying my hand across the small of her back to press her lithe body against me. The second she’s flush with my hard length, her eyes float closed, and a shuddery breath ghosts past her lips.
It is on.
Hauling her even closer, I crush her mouth with mine. I kiss her fiercely, all teeth and tongue and fire. She kisses me back the same way, like we’re passing a bottle of fiery tequila between us. Drawing her bottom lip between mine, I suck hard, eliciting a heady moan from the heart of the woman I want.
She jerks our lips apart, pulling back enough to sear me with her eyes, then she grabs my face. “I can’t believe you’re pissed at a podcast piece,” she hisses.
“I can’t believe you have it out for me,” I hiss right back.
“But what I really can’t believe”—she runs her hand down the front of my shirt, yanking it from my jeans—“is that you think this is going to change the score between us.”
I grin, but I’m still fuming. “Sweetheart, I know a good fuck isn’t going to change how you feel for me. But I don’t care.”
Her brow arches. “How do you know it’s going to be good?”
I let go of her, grab the hem of her shirt, then sweep it off, eating up the view. Gorgeous tits in a basic, white cotton bra. It’s such an I don’t give a shit look and it suits this woman.
“It’s not going to be a good fuck. It’s going to be the best ever,” I tell her.
“It better be. I cut my workout short for this,” she taunts.
“Promise my cock is a better use of your time than a StairMaster,” I say.
Her fingers play with the hair on my chest, then along my abs as she makes her way toward my jeans. But I don’t have the patience for foreplay. I barely have the patience to get the rest of our clothes off.