Block Shot (Hoops #2)(59)

“Jared, you know why. It’s complicated.” I sigh heavily and pull away, walking over to open the door. “I’m working and I can’t do this with you right now.”

“Working how?” His question comes from behind me, and his hand slams the door closed again. He’s at my back. I’ve been outmaneuvered. I wanted to keep my distance, but there’s no distance between my back and his front. Between my body and the long hard length of him.

“Was he bothering you?” Jared asks, his lips at my ear, his breath in my hair. There’s genuine concern in his voice, and I hate that this man everyone assumes would sell his grandmother to make the right deal cares about me. Always has. It complicates things even more.

“I’m fine, Jared.” I rest my forehead against the door, refusing to relax against him, though every cell in my body urges me to do just that.

“You were buttoning your blouse,” he says, voice tight. “If he bothered you, then—”

“Then what?” I turn around to face him and lean against the door.

Big mistake. I’m confronted with eyes the dark blue of a midnight sky and the face carved from my fantasies with a lust-tipped chisel. He’s wearing a three-piece suit. The powerful width of his chest stretches beneath a navy blue jacket, vest, and a shirt the color of pink champagne, no tie. His hand still rests against the closed door, and his arm crowds me in.

“I hate it when you ignore me,” he says unexpectedly.

My eyes snap to his, and that was a mistake, too. Looking into his eyes. The intensity there is mesmerizing.

“Not just this week,” he says. “But when we first graduated, right after all that shit went down with The Pride. We were at a few of the same conferences. Every time I tried to talk to you, you froze me out. Once you even threatened to blow your—”

“Rape whistle,” I finish for him, chuckling. I was so desperate to keep him out of my life. I understood the danger then of giving myself to him, and even when I wasn’t sure what his role had been in what happened, when I didn’t believe I could trust him, I knew I couldn’t trust myself. I knew it then and I know it now.

“I need to go,” I say abruptly, turning back around and pulling on the handle. Under the weight of his hand, the door remains closed. “Jared, my client needs me.”

It’s true. It’s why I came here when Tanya texted me that one of my rookies might be in trouble, but it’s also my get-out-of this-room card. I’m relieved when his hand falls from the door, but that’s short-lived because his hands grip my hips from behind, and he presses himself into me.

“Banner, I know you have things you’re working through.” A short laugh rustles the hair at my neck. “Hell, if your free agency season is anything like mine, you’re busy every second of the day.”

I nod, holding my body tense to create even an inch between our bodies.

“But I can’t stop thinking about Saturday,” he whispers across my neck, his words followed closely behind by his lips feathering light kisses across my skin. I shiver and he pushes into me, his thick length wedged into the cheeks of my ass. “About your pussy clenching around my fingers.”

“Oh, God.” I drop my forehead to the door again, my breath coming heavier. “Stop.

“Your nipples,” he continues, his breath thinning out, his palms spreading at my waist until he can brush the underside of my breasts. “I want them in my mouth again. Ban, please.”

“Don’t ask me to . . .” I swallow my words, but my fear won’t go down. “I cannot hurt him like this, Jared.”

“I don’t want you to hurt him. I want you to choose me.” He squeezes my waist, a warning. “But if you don’t choose me, you will hurt him because this . . . We are going to happen.”

“I have to go.” I step back into him only long enough to wrench the door open. “I need to find my guy before he destroys his career.”

I’ve been distracted by Jared long enough. I need to handle what I came here to do and get out before I allow Jared to wreak any more havoc on my life.

“Which guy?” he asks from right behind me. “You can’t wander around this house looking for your client, Banner.”

He takes my arm . . . again . . . and stops me in the hall.

“Do you know what kind of party this is?” His face hardens above me. “Anything goes, and half these guys are so high out of their minds, they wouldn’t even notice if you said no. So the hell I’m letting you run all over this house looking for your client.”

“Letting me?” Feminist indignation raises both brows. “Since when do you think you let me do anything? You’re not my father or my boyfriend, and even they don’t let me do things. I just do them. I’m a grown ass woman, not some little girl who requires an escort at a fucking party.”

“Oh, the grown ass woman who was being accosted when I found her?” he demands, anger sparking in his eyes. “That was going well.”

“I have a job to do.”

“Well you’re not doing it without me in this house at this party, and I don’t care if you like it or not. Try to shake me.”

Our wills war as we exchange glares, neither backing down.

“Tell me who you’re trying to find,” he says, softening his hands on me, his eyes on me. “And I’ll help you, but I’m not letting you out of my sight in this house.”