Jill Shalvis - The Harder They Fall

“I stock some beautiful things,” she pointed out, enjoying his obvious discomfort with the subject. It seemed sort of incongruous, this big, gorgeous man looking so prim and proper. Unless… Oh dear. “Is there a… wife?” She held her breath, strangely relieved when he shook his head. Beneath his casual denial she sensed pain, and she knew she had to stop pushing him, but her insatiable curiosity got the better of her. “Girlfriend?”

“I didn’t come to buy underwear, for me or anyone else,” he assured her grimly, taking a step into the only available space left in the entire room – directly in front of her.

No wife, no girlfriend. The knowledge shouldn’t have sent a thrill through her.

“If you don’t want underwear, how about a bathrobe?”

“No, thank you.” He took another step. Their toes touched.

“Nightwear?” she squeaked.

“I don’t wear any.”

“Oh, my,” she whispered.

He filled the office with a sort of devastating male grace, watching her with an unmistakable light of awareness in his eyes. He studied her slowly, from her low neckline, to her short hemline, and everywhere in between.

Suddenly the stuffy scientist didn’t seem so stuffy, but the room sure did. “What did you come for?” she asked, her voice low and quavering.

His jaw tightened, and he took a deep breath, which brought him within a fraction of an inch from Trisha, who suddenly couldn’t breathe. Slowly, she tipped back her head and looked at him, swallowing hard at his intense expression.

“Hunter?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you here?”

A wordless sound of frustrated humor escaped from him. “I haven’t the foggiest.” His big hands touched her shoulders. “For some ridiculous reason, looking at you made me forget.”

“You forgot? That’s ridiculous -”

But the words were swallowed by his mouth.

Before Trisha could draw a startled breath, Hunter had gathered her close to him and gently slanted his mouth over hers. Despite her “seize the day” philosophy, she’d kissed only a few times before. But even with her inexperience, she knew Hunter was no ordinary kisser. She could feel the strength in his arms, the immense power in his body, and how he held it all in check. The challenge was there, certainly, so was the provocation, but all without the demand she’d have expected, and she trembled at the onslaught of surprising, gut-wrenching passion. Inhaling the warm, male scent of him, she opened her mouth to his, gripped his shirt, and held on.

Deepening the kiss, Hunter pulled her even closer, making her sigh in delight as she felt herself molding to every inch of his fully aroused body. Instinctively, her hips pressed against his, making him groan softly. Excitement and a delicious shiver traveled up her spine, followed by his hands.

“Shut the door,” he murmured into her mouth, turning them both when she did, nudging her up against the wood.

Trisha, dizzy with a swirling hunger she’d never before experienced, grabbed his shoulders for support as her world spun wildly.

Trailing his lips over her jaw, he whispered hoarsely, “God, Trisha, what are you doing to me?”

She didn’t know, but if it was making his knees half as weak as hers, she could sympathize. But then he nibbled at her ear and she couldn’t think at all. Nothing, nothing, had ever felt so good.

Leaning over her, his hands caging her head against the smooth wood of the door, Hunter kissed her throat, then the drumming pulse at the base of her neck.

No longer certain she could stand, Trisha dropped her head back. It hit the door with a thunk. “Hunter,” she managed.

Luckily, he understood the single-word plea, for he brought his arms around her, gently thrusting his thigh between hers. The material of his pants rubbed against the bare skin of her legs. “Oh, my,” she gasped, and he did it again. “Oh, my goodness.”

“So profound,” he whispered, laughter and more than a little awe in his voice.

“It’s just that I had no idea…”

“Me, either.” His mouth came back to hers, hot and hungry. Her dress inched up as his muscled thigh eased her legs farther apart.

She was quivering, hot and cold at the same time. This had never happened to her, and she couldn’t quite believe it was happening now. The crazy impulse to beg him to make love to her right here, standing up against the door, nearly overpowered her. The pure recklessness of the thought startled her so, she surfaced slightly from the mist of arousal.

So many years of being controlled, browbeaten, and too shy and unconfident were washed away in an instant “Hunter, I don’t understand this.” But she pulled his mouth back to hers.

The door slammed open, smacking Trisha in the rump and propelling her full force into Hunter. He grabbed her easily, regaining their balance with an almost feline grace.

“Trish, I -” Celia’s voice seemed loud in the stunned silence of the room.

Trisha dropped her forehead to Hunter’s chest, wondering if she could possibly be lucky enough to have a huge hole swallow her up.

“Oh. Oops,” Celia said.

Embarrassed, Trisha backed slowly out of Hunter’s embrace and turned to face her friend.

“The space scientist, I presume,” Celia said dryly, her eyes burning with avid curiosity as she studied Hunter. “Conducting a new experiment? Never mind” – she raised her hand – “don’t answer that. I’m gone. In fact, I was never even here. Never saw ya.” With a wide grin, she backed out of the room and shut the door.

For once, words failed Trisha.

Hunter had his hands on his hips. His brow was creased, his face dark with a moody concentration she didn’t know if she wanted to understand. But his eyes still held the fire of barely leashed passion.

“Do you have any idea what the hell just happened between us?” he demanded.

She smiled weakly. “Absolutely none.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Pretty intense.”

“You could say that again,” she muttered, running her hands over her hips to smooth down her dress.

His gaze followed her movement. He looked about as far removed from a stuffy scientist as he could get, and none too thrilled about it. “That’s some dress, Trisha.”

Used to criticism, she automatically stiffened, just managing to bite back the surge of defensiveness. “Isn’t it?”

“I’m sure I didn’t mean that the way you seem to have taken it.”

“Forget it.”

“Trisha.”

“Just forget it.”

“No, wait a minute. Tell me you’re going to give me more credit than thinking I would actually criticize your clothes.”

She didn’t want to hear him lie, not when he’d made it so obvious what he’d thought of her. Yeah, but that was before they’d kissed with wild abandon. Dammit, this was out of control. “Maybe we should back up a bit,” she suggested.

“Back up,” he repeated. “To that kiss?”

“No.” She had to take a deep breath. “To why you’re here.”

“Oh.” His face tightened into a scowl. “I wanted to talk to you about your kitchen floor – or my ceiling – depending, of course, on which apartment you’re standing in.”

Oh, yeah. She’d nearly forgotten that not only had she made quite a first impression by falling through his bathroom, she’d also nearly destroyed his kitchen. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve already said that,” he pointed out smoothly. “I don’t expect you to keep saying it.”

He had no way of knowing that it was a terrible habit of hers, drilled into her during childhood. Apologizing profusely, then continuing to do so, had become a life-long habit. A self-destructive habit she had promised herself she would break.

“I don’t have a key to your apartment,” he said, still watching her carefully. “And I need to see the full extent of the damage.”

Reaching into her desk, she pulled her purse from the bottom drawer, took her front-door key off the ring.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll reimburse you for the damage, of course.” With what? She had a stack of bills a foot high in the upper right drawer, awaiting attention.

“It won’t be necessary. I’m planning on doing some renovations while we’re at it.”

His warm, work-roughened fingers brushed against hers as he reached for the key. She glanced up at him to find him studying her with now-familiar intensity. Something strange unfurled within her. Longing, she realized with some surprise, and it annoyed her. “I caused the damage,” she said stiffly. “I’ll pay for it.”

“There’s insurance.”

“There’s also a deductible.”

He sighed, dropped his gaze down to their fingers, still entwined around the key, and studied them silently. “We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot here, Trisha.”

“No doubt.”

“The kiss might have made it worse.”

“Probably.”

He lifted his head. “I’m not going to apologize for it, since I don’t seem to regret it.”

“I see.” She told herself she couldn’t think of one reason why her heart took off galloping again.

“We’re… different, Trisha.”

She smiled. “That’s quite an astute observation, Dr. Adams.”

He didn’t return the smile. “Maybe we could transcend some of those differences.”

“I doubt it,” she said quite truthfully. He wasn’t likely to loosen up and she certainly wasn’t about to lace up, not ever again.

“We could always kiss again,” he suggested.

“Kissing won’t convince me to break the lease.”

His other hand came up, sandwiching her hands between his large, warm ones. “That kiss had nothing to do with your lease.”

“What did it have to do with?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted, dropping her hands and stepping away. The back of his thighs encountered her desk, and he sat.

He looked stunningly right sitting there, his elegant clothes hugging that sleek body. It made her mouth water with the urge to touch him again, to do exactly as he suggested and go for another bone-melting kiss.