The Rivals - Vi Keeland Page 0,17
of that anyway? I liked it.”
I did have terrible teeth when we were kids. I’d spent countless hours in the orthodontist’s chair over my five years of braces. Though I was surprised he would even remember that.
Weston caught me off guard when he leaned forward and scraped at my tooth, removing whatever had been stuck for me.
“Got it,” he said, holding up his finger.
I have no idea why, but the simple gesture seemed so intimate, and it made me sort of warm. Thus, I countered that with as much frost as I could muster.
Smacking his hand away, I grumbled, “Keep your hands to yourself.”
Weston took a step forward. “You sure about that?” He reached out and rested his hand on my hip. “You look like you could use blowing off some steam again.”
I hated that my body immediately reacted to his touch. It pissed me off more than what he’d done or how he’d interfered with my father. “Screw you.”
He moved closer, and his fingers dug deeper into my hip. “We’re finally on the same page.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew about the union issue?”
He leaned closer and inhaled deeply. “What perfume are you wearing?”
“Answer me, you asshole. Why didn’t you mention the strike?”
“I’ll tell you, but you’re not going to like the truth.”
“I don’t like most things that come out of your mouth, but that’s never stopped you from talking.”
“The president of the union doesn’t work well with women. If I’d told you there were issues, you would have insisted on coming, and the guy is a real piece of shit. He wouldn’t have listened to a thing you said, and then the minute you weren’t within earshot, he would have talked about your tits to me. Which would have pissed me the fuck off and made me punch him. It was best to avoid all that bullshit and just get it done.”
“The way to deal with a sexist asshole isn’t to give in to him. It’s to address it head on, in a professional manner.”
He seemed to consider what I’d said, then nodded. “Okay. My instinct was to protect you from the asshole, not subject you to his crap. But I get it.”
The tension in my face softened. “Don’t let it happen again.”
The corner of his lip twitched. “Yes, ma’am.”
He stared down at where his hand still sat on my hip, and my attention followed. Ever so slowly, his hand began to inch up.
Shit. An ache flourished inside me. I should’ve slapped his hand away and marched back out the door. But instead I stood there, watching as he caressed over my hip, traced along the dip of my waist, and smoothed up to my rib cage. When he reached the swell of my side boob, he looked up into my eyes.
I got the feeling he was giving me time to stop him—and I really, really wanted to. At least, my head did. My body…well, not so much. It had only been twenty-four hours since he’d touched me, and yet I felt so needy and desperate. The rise and fall of my chest sped up as I watched his hand lift from my side, graze over my silk shirt, and cup my breast and squeeze.
“God, I really despise you,” I hissed as my eyes closed.
“Yeah, your nipples piercing through your shirt look like they hate me, too.”
Weston dipped his hand inside the opening at the top of my blouse. He pushed down the lace of my bra and plucked one of my taut peaks. I hated that I let out a little mewl.
“You like it a little on the rough side, don’t you?”
I kept my eyes shut. “Don’t ruin the moment by talking.”
The hand inside my shirt moved to my other breast, while his other hand gathered both of mine. Circling my wrists tightly, he leaned to my ear. “Maybe we should have a safe word.”
Oh God. What the hell is wrong with me? Why does the idea of needing a safe word turn me on so much?
When I didn’t respond, Weston nipped at my ear. “Pick a word, beautiful.”
I opened my eyes. “Asshole.”
His soft laugh vibrated against my skin. “I think you need a word that isn’t already your pet name for me—one you don’t say at least ten times a day when I’m around you.”
“I don’t need one. I’m not into kinky stuff.”
Weston pulled his head back. “You despise me, and I’m about to tie your hands together behind your back so you can hate-fuck