Big Shot(22)

She was a damn good actress on top of everything else.

Connor scowled at him. “That’s what you get for making Natalie wear that ridiculous outfit and bossing her around.”

Wes exhaled, slow and deep, to keep from responding to that false statement. He’d done neither but didn’t bother defending himself when Connor had already pegged him as the bad guy. God, he was done with the poker game and the guys. But he was far from finished with Natalie.

“The game is over,” he announced, and stood up, all too aware of the big wet spot on his jeans, but on the upside, at least his hard-on had subsided.

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Kyle said, standing along with Max and Connor. “But it was definitely an entertaining evening.”

Wes followed them up the stairs and to the door, while Natalie disappeared into the kitchen. Once the guys were gone, he closed and locked the door, then went to confront the woman who’d caused chaos with his poker night and his libido.

They had a few things to settle between them, and he had a feeling that a few more lines between them were about to be crossed.





Chapter Eight





Wes strode into the kitchen, finding the counters and sink cleaner than he’d expected considering the appetizer fiasco earlier. In fact, Natalie was leaning casually against the counter, drinking water from a bottle, and looking very satisfied with herself.

Not for long.

She met his gaze, that gratification ebbing from her expression as she watched him walk straight toward her, his body language confident and back in charge. Awareness flashed in her eyes, and she licked her bottom lip a bit nervously now that they were completely alone, especially when he stopped in front of her, braced his hands on the counter on either side of her hips, and got right up into her personal space.

She set her water bottle aside but didn’t try to back away—not that there was anywhere for her to go—but the sudden rise and fall of her chest gave away her body’s reaction to him, to the years of combustible attraction they’d both suppressed up to this point. He had a feeling it was all going to boil over and burn them both.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Do you have something to say for yourself, Minx?”

Her big blue eyes went wide, though there wasn’t an ounce of remorse in their depths for making tonight a complete disaster. “Umm, I’m sorry you had to cut the game short?”

She wasn’t going to give an inch, but judging by his aching cock, he was more than prepared to give her a good seven of his own, depending on how this conversation played out. “Like you gave me a choice,” he said sarcastically.

Her chin lifted a notch, but the heat in her gaze overrode any attempt she made at defiance. “I never said the guys had to leave or that the game was over.”

Was she f*cking serious? Yeah, she was, and he was about to set her straight. “Let me tell you exactly why I ended poker night early,” he said, shifting his stance so that the rigid length of his erection made a distinct imprint on her bare thigh, since those crazy high heels she was wearing boosted her to his height.

“You’re strutting around in this hot-as-f*ck costume that has had my dick standing at full attention since the moment you walked into my place. You nearly burned my house down along with the appetizers. You ordered the most disgusting pizza I’ve ever tasted, and lastly, you were rubbing my goddamn cock with your hand less than ten minutes ago. Do you honestly believe I can think straight after that?”

The corner of her lips twitched with humor. “It’s all about mind over matter, Wes,” she said, repeating the words he’d used to get her onto the Centennial Wheel with him. As if it were that easy for him to shut off his dick’s response to her.

God, that mouth of hers was so f*cking sassy, and he was done tiptoeing around this chemistry between them and keeping his explicit thoughts about her to himself. And he was so done with her topping him from the bottom, trying to take control of any given situation just to prove she wasn’t a weak, delicate female who would accede to a man. Especially him.

“I’ll give you mind over f*cking matter,” he growled. Finished playing nice when what he wanted was down and dirty, he slipped his hands beneath her short skirt so that his fingers were now gripping the soft, rounded curve of her bottom through her thin panties.

She gasped, her hands instinctively grabbing on to his biceps for support. The brazen move clearly shocked her, but she didn’t protest his manhandling. In fact, the spark of desire illuminating her eyes and the tiny pulse beating erratically at the base of her throat told him that she liked the bit of rough play.

And he wasn’t above testing that theory. “What I ought to do is bend you over and thoroughly spank your ass for undermining me and being so insubordinate tonight.”

A pink flush spread across her cheeks, but the wanting in her gaze never wavered. “Maybe you should,” she retorted huskily, recklessly.

Her words, her approval, were like a hungry jolt of lust straight to his already stiff cock. “Don’t f*cking tempt me.”

She wet her bottom lip with her tongue, and the hands on his arms dropped to the hem of his T-shirt, then slid beneath until her fingers grazed that sensitive sweet spot right below his navel and right above the waistband of his jeans, tracing the lines of his abs.

“I dare you,” she whispered, coming damn close to dwindling what little was left of his willpower to resist her.