Sweet Rivalry (1001 Dark Nights)(21)

And wholly distracting.

Then I remember his other words—the us competing for the same bid isn’t a one-time thing here. We’re now going to be seeing each other often. The revelation evokes so many thoughts—the most prevalent one being that reward sex could be a definite, longstanding possibility here. So this time when I look back up to meet his gaze, I let the slow, suggestive smile play across my lips to taunt him.

“May the best man win, then.”

His grin deepens, eyes sliding down my torso and back up. “Something like that,” he murmurs as I push myself up to stand at full height, needing to get back to work but not taking a single step around the side of the desk.

It might get a little messy.

We stare at each other, dare each other, taunt each other as the air shifts and changes around and between us. His lips quirk up on one side. “So tell me, Harper…was I good?”

The mental whiplash is fierce but the snap of it is nowhere near as powerful as the memory of my orgasmic dream of him causes between my thighs.

The one I confessed to.

“Hmm,” I murmur, a throwback to that debate night and a little taste of his own medicine. “I can’t quite remember.” My voice is coy, eyelashes batting, but my insides are on fire and welcome this sudden shift between us.

His gaze is unwavering as he shakes his head. His hands fist, forearms flex, then unfist in a visible show of restraint that’s just as sexy as that muscle pulsing in his jaw. “You can’t remember?” he asks, voice questioning as his eyes darken and intensify.

I remember everything about the dream: his touch, his murmured words, his abilities.

I know this is the point of no return. Know that my next words hold the power to either be the catalyst or the stopping point to what can possibly be between us. Since the moment I saw Ryder, I tried to hold true to my mantra—bid first, then reward sex––but I don’t think I ever once believed myself.

I may be a strong woman and an ice queen in the boardroom, but there’s something about Ryder Rodgers that makes me go weak in the knees.

“You know, I can’t remember at all. You know how dreams are…” I let the words trail off, my playful smile and the suggestion in my tone leading him.

“Tell me what to do, Harper.” Those words he said earlier are on his lips again, innocent in nature but juxtaposed to the desire clouding his eyes, are a loaded gun.

“Finish your bid. It’s due tomorrow.” I turn on my heel and go to round my desk, but no sooner than my first step his hand is on my upper arm, turning me back around.

Bingo.

We’re face to face, bodies inches from each other, and yet mine is already set ablaze—struck by lightning––from where his hand is on my arm. Our breaths labor from the anticipation alone.

“The only thing I’m thinking about finishing right now is something I should have done a long time ago.”

And without another word his lips are on mine.

And not just on mine—they take control, assault in the most pleasurable of ways, and devour any hope of being able to walk away from this job unaffected by Ryder.

There is no hesitation on my part. My reaction is reflexive. Years of wondering and want are answered and met by the skill of his tongue as it dances against mine, the feel of his touch as his hands come up to frame the sides of my face, and the hard heat of his body as he steps into me.

It’s heaven.

And hell.

It’s want mixed with need.

And I can’t warring against more please.

It’s reawakened desire versus self-preservation.

And comparing that moment back then to that of right now.

My head spins. My body aches. It’s the feel of his beard scraping against my cheek and the groan deep in his throat. It’s the warmth of his tongue and the skill of his lips.

And it feels like it lasts forever, until the minute his lips break from mine and then it seems like it was only a second.

But his shaky inhalation sounds as ragged as mine when he pulls back to create distance between us.

“Thirteen years, Harper.” His voice resonates with conviction. “I’ve waited thirteen years to finish that kiss with you. To do it again.”

My lips are lax, my heart is racing, my body a combination of calm and out of control, if that’s even possible. I just stare at him, eyes blinking, words not forming.

“I thought if I kissed you, got it over with, I’d get you out of my system.” He shakes his head and smiles. “But I don’t think it worked out quite how I wanted it to.”

“Ryder.” My heart is pounding, voice breathless.

“Tell me what to do, Harper.”





Chapter Eleven



Ryder




“What do you want, Harper?”

She looks at me––eyes wide, lips parted––and every part of me begs to dive back in and take another taste. To back her up against that desk behind her and finish this striptease of temptation we’ve danced in the past forty-something hours.

But I wait for an answer.

Need one.

And it’s killing me to turn my back on her and head toward the door instead of stepping back into her, but I’m not doing this again. Not going to let her run away from me because she’s too scared to admit what she wants.