Charlie felt Declan’s hand press gently into her lower back before settling on the curve of her ass. The heat from his hand burned through the thin material of her dress and into her skin. She was certain he could feel the delicate bow gathered at the center of her power panties, right at the base of her tailbone. What the hell was he doing?
She could see Declan’s chest rising and falling, each breath he took deeper than the last. His strong jaw clenched as his thumb began to move, sliding slowly back and forth over the tulle bow clandestinely adorning her derriere. He was waiting for her to stop him. Charlie sucked in a sharp breath feeling suddenly like she was melting from the inside out. Every muscle in her body tensed. Charlie’s brain screamed at her to push his hand off, but her body had other ideas. How could I let my body respond like this? Traitor body.
As Declan led her back to her seat, Charlie still wanted to slap him, but more than that, she wanted him to keep going. There had been plenty of time for her to shove him away or leave, but she had too many feelings to sort out before she could react. Charlie had never felt this way, and she never expected to feel this way about him.
“What are you thinking?” Declan whispered, his eyes somehow both mocking and anxious.
“I am still trying to figure that out.” Charlie glared at him, willing rational thought to penetrate her clouded brain. What should I do? What do I want?
She was so overwhelmed she was trembling. Levelheaded logic was quickly abandoning her as she felt his hand run up her neck and into her hair. Gripping it tightly, Declan jerked Charlie’s head toward him and stared into her eyes. “Dine with me please, Charlotte.”
Charlie replied with a smirk of her own. “All right, Mr. Pearse. Consider it your lucky night. I will join you for dinner.”
“Damn it,” Declan growled as Charlie’s teeth grazed her lower lip.
“What? What exactly is your problem now? I thought we were going to call a truce and have a nice meal together so I could tell Mikki you weren’t a complete jackass.”
“I am. We are. It’s just that every time you rake your teeth across your bottom lip, it drives me wild. You’ve been doing it all day.”
“It’s not like I am doing it on purpose, promise. Besides, why does it make you so crazy?”
Declan leaned in closer and whispered, “When you do that, I want nothing more than to take that luscious bottom lip of yours into my mouth and suck on it. I want to run my tongue across your lips and bite them until you beg me for mercy.”
Charlie felt his eyes on her as she nervously flicked her tongue over her bottom lip, dragged her teeth slowly back across it, and then sunk her teeth into its beautiful, plump flesh.
“Fuck.” Declan’s voice became a wild snarl. His lips crushed hers, and he took her lower lip into his mouth and sucked on it. He shocked her with the sudden violence of his kiss, and she pulled away, panting.
“Mr. P … Declan, what on Earth are you doing? What are we doing?” Charlie panted, their faces close enough to feel the warmth of the other’s breath.
“I don’t know, but I don’t want it to stop. Do you want me to stop?” Declan asked, tucking a loose tendril of her hair behind her ear.
The mixture of anger and lust between them was a lethal combination, threatening to turn them both to ashes on the spot, but Charlie didn’t give a damn, she’d never felt anything so wild and out of control. Declan tore himself away from her mouth and moved to feast on her collarbone, like he was a starving man at a buffet.
She let out a whimper, her voice wild and sexy. “Declan, I can’t. I can’t do this. My job—I love it, I don’t want to quit,” she panted.
“That’s good, Charlotte. Don’t leave your job. I don’t want you to leave your job. You don’t need to quit because of this. Just … let me have you.”
Chapter Three
Declan unbuckled his belt and pulled it quickly from his pants. The sound system in the room blared some damned song by Kings of Leon. “Charlotte.” Her name escaped his lips in a breathy moan, and then he cursed. She should be there with him right now, naked and wanton, but instead he stood half clothed alone in a hotel room.
The memory of how her delicate flesh pinked up from his mark flashed through his mind. Charlotte had spun around in an attempt to leave, but not before Declan could grip her arm to stop her. He couldn’t resist the urge to taste her skin again, so he had leaned in and gently sunk his teeth into her soft neck. She had shuttered, and he tongued the spot where he had just marked her. Before he could wrap his arms around her and press his hardened body against the soft flesh of her backside, she had pulled away from him and fled from their secluded place in the restaurant.
Pouring himself a glass of single malt on the rocks, he stared out into the night. It was his fault really. The second he realized she would be a perfect choice he should have backed down, been more in control. Declan shook his head in disbelief and took another sip. Damn, this woman was going to make him lose all control. He’d barely known she existed this morning, and now he was pouncing like she was his prey. He should have known this would not go smoothly.
Nothing about his first day at the Pittsburgh office went like it should. Transitions are never easy, but chaos seemed to reign. Kellan, God love him, had left in such a hurry for London, everything was in complete disarray. Sure, he would argue that it was organized, but not to Declan’s standards. Declan was precise and exacting. He liked his secretary to be too. Poor Ms. Ward. She meant well, but he would have to retrain her. It took three hours to get the schedule for next week to his liking. Why should the blind date Aaron set him up on go any differently?
Declan had been friends with Aaron since his days interning at the Pittsburgh office during college summers. Aaron, Matt, and Declan often spent Mondays at lunch recounting everyone’s Saturday night conquests. Today hadn’t been any different. Declan had headed to lunch with the boys and made it to the table in time to hear Matt detailing some raucous rendezvous that involved the back seat of a cab. Matt and Aaron always shared details. Most men do. Declan was not most men; he didn’t share with anyone who he bedded or anything that went on in the bedroom. Of course, his encounters these days were different from your average, every day clumsy lay in the back of a taxi.
Before moving to Pittsburgh, getting to know a woman involved finding out if she liked it on top, bottom, or from behind. Back then he was always the one-and-done guy. He never bought a ticket to ride the same tilt-a-whirl more than once. But quick lays were too predictable, too vanilla. Not that there was anything wrong with a good lay, but he found it boring—same lay, different girl, different day. He craved the slow dance of seduction, the mind shattering pursuit. He lusted after the feeling of a woman giving herself completely over to him. He was choosy—no, discriminating—in his choice of partners, and he looked for total obedience in a relationship.
How that was possible from a blind date was anyone’s guess. Blind dates were like grab bags at the dollar store; you never knew what you might get. Even worse than blind dates were set ups that involved a friend’s fiancé’s relative. He shuddered at the thought, especially after Aaron mentioned she had a “great personality.” Declan knew that was code for winning the butter-face lottery.
Thinking quickly on his feet that morning, Declan planned to seek her out after spotting Charlotte’s name on a stack of manuscript reviews on his desk. He would intimidate the poor mouse of a girl and then let her down gently, playing the human resources nightmare card. His whole Master of the Universe persona was working until the bookish mouse turned out to be a sexy-as-hell firecracker.