Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,48

attempt to see me again?”

“I had to warn you this wasn’t going anywhere. I thought I owed you that much.”

“You didn’t need to warn me away — I wouldn’t have pursued you like some teenage girl with a crush. But I suppose that possibility never entered your egotistical brain?”

His jaw ticks.

I step closer, so angry I forget to be afraid of him, until only a half-foot of space separates us. “And I suppose you couldn’t stop yourself from showing up here today and throwing fuel on the freaking fire, so that whatever slim possibility still existed that Brett might just move on and let me walk away was utterly and completely extinguished?”

“Gemma.” His voice holds a warning I don’t heed.

I laugh again, a brittle peal. “Because if he wasn’t going to come after me before, he sure as shit will now. Your caveman antics ensured that, Chase, so thank you very much for—”

I never get to finish my sentence, because his free arm shoots out and slips behind my back, hauling me forward before I can even think of protesting. I slam against him so hard, the breath is knocked from my lungs. His other hand, still holding mine, squeezes tighter and bends up behind his back, so my arm is forced to wrap around him.

“What are you doi—”

My words are swallowed up as his lips crash down on mine. It isn’t a soft kiss — it’s intense, furious, in a way I never knew a kiss could be, his lips hard and unforgiving against mine. It’s a shut-up-I-hate-you kiss. A you-drive-me-crazy kiss. An if-I-don’t-kiss-you-I’ll-kill-you kiss.

It’s a battle — our mouths are opposite fronts, fighting for ground, warring for control.

I shove his chest.

He bites my lip.

I nip his tongue.

He tugs my hair.

The kiss goes wild as my other arm winds around him, clutching the back of his shirt, my nails raking against the fabric. His hands release me, but only for a second, as they drop and haul me roughly up against him. Two strides and he’s got me pinned against the elevator wall.

I don’t even think about it — my legs go around him, my dress bunches up around my thighs, and my arms circle his neck. I forget that I’m angry, that I’m pretty sure he’s irreparably messed up my life, that five seconds ago, I hated him…

And I kiss him back with everything I have.

Chapter Sixteen

Titan

A voice — scratchy with static and filled with concern — bursts from the intercom box on the button panel, startling us apart.

“This is Jim, from Maintenance. Is anyone in there? Everything okay?”

My lips pull away from Chase’s and I stare into his face, my breaths coming too fast and my heart pounding so hard against my ribs, I’m worried the bones might break under the pressure. He’s looking back at me, his face a study in halves — a lazy half-smile tugging at his lips; half-lidded eyes, filled with desire.

“Is anyone in there?” Jim from Maintenance asks again, his voice tinny and distant. “Folks, if you can hear me, use the intercom button.”

“Fuck,” Chase curses quietly, his amused smile widening. “I haven’t been caught making out since I was sixteen.”

“Um,” I breathe, blinking rapidly, not knowing how to respond to that. “Can you put me down, now?”

He doesn’t.

In fact, at my words, he just chuckles and leans closer, so I’m pressed even more firmly against the elevator wall.

“Tell me again how there’s nothing between us,” he whispers, his mouth dropping to my neck, his lips pressing a soft kiss against the sensitive skin there.

“Chase,” I say, my voice weakly protesting even as my body betrays me, arching to get closer to him.

He ignores me, as usual.

“Seriously.” I try to pull back, but there’s nowhere to go. “I have to get back to work and then go home, take a shower, and forget this ever happened.”

At that, he stiffens and his head lifts slowly from my neck until his narrowed eyes trap mine. He leans even closer — which I didn’t think was possible, but somehow he manages — and I watch as the smile falls right off his face, his features contorting into a scowl in mere seconds.

An angry sound rattles at the back of his throat.

I swallow hard, suddenly regretting my thoughtless words. Sure, I meant them — but I didn’t have to say them and get myself in trouble. Again.

He leans in, his voice low. “Sorry, for a second there, it sounded like you said you were gonna go