“Then stop snarling at the thought of me with another woman. Because that’s what single people do.” He growled.
Olivia dropped her folder back on the table and planted her hands on her hips.
“Fine, so you’d be happy for me to take the lead and fly to Australia for the next quarterly update. And sleep with James? I saw you react this morning.”
Fletcher’s jaw twitched, and he took a step closer.
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
She shrugged.
No.
Not at all. I want you!
“Sure, he’s a cute guy. That accent.”
Her heart thumped as Fletcher took another step closer and she drew in his musky scent. She held her breath, not letting herself weaken at the sight of his broad chest and flaming eyes, even as they completely dominated her every thought.
“Cute isn’t what gets you wet. Cute isn’t what makes you spread your thighs and thrash as you beg for more tongue, more cock, more pleasure.” Fletcher’s voice was low and deep. “I do.”
Her mouth fell open.
Holy hell in a handbasket.
“When you realize I’m what you want, let me know.” His thumb swept across her lower lip and dipped inside. Her traitorous tongue slipped out to meet it.
She swallowed.
Fletcher’s hand slid behind her neck and into her hair.
Oh, thank God, he’s going to kiss me.
Then he stepped away.
“I’m not sleeping with her,” Fletcher said.
“What?”
“Dakota. That’s what you want to know,” he said. “I’m not. Or anyone. And until we figure out what this is, I don’t want you sleeping with anyone else either.”
Her lips parted.
How dare he?
She wanted to tell him he couldn’t tell her what to do. That it wasn’t his call to make, but every part of her body relaxed, knowing Fletcher Dufort was hers.
At least sexually.
For now.
Even though she knew it couldn’t continue.
Her head dipped to hide her smile. But he’d seen it.
“Jesus,” Fletcher said. “I can’t control myself.”
He grabbed his face and dropped his lips to hers with force. She melted into him, and his entire body wrapped around hers.