Who's the Boss? - Erin McCarthy Page 0,3

be hot as hell.

The elevator groaned and jerked into movement. We both stumbled as the box rose upward.

I grabbed on to his shirt for balance but he was already pulling away.

“Thank God,” he said. “That was a close one.”

Like he’d been saved from the sheer torture of having to kiss me. I dropped my hands and reached for the bar on the wall to steady myself, heart racing.

I should have been very grateful for the interruption, but I felt a mild disappointment that made me instantly angry. I didn’t want to kiss him. Kissing him would be stupid as hell and there was no million dollars being offered to me. It wouldn’t even be a good kiss. How could it be? He was a straight-up jerk.

Pulling my phone out I glanced at the time. We’d been trapped in the elevator for a whopping eight minutes. It had felt like a solid hour.

The doors opened, and in some last-ditch effort at pretending to be a gentleman, Sean gestured for me to go first as he stuck both his foot and his hand over the door to prevent it from closing again. He scooped his coat up off the floor.

I stepped out into the cooler air of the hallway and took a deep breath. “I’m taking the stairs when it’s time to leave.”

“Same.”

We walked down the hall, Sean obviously knowing where he was going. I fell in step beside him, not really looking forward to this party. I wasn’t sold on the engagement any more than Sean apparently was.

“So,” Sean said as we approached an apartment door.

“So what?” I asked when he didn’t continue.

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?” he said, glancing down at me.

“What am I talking about? What are you talking about? You said ‘so’ and then didn’t say anything else.”

“No, I didn’t.” The look he gave me was one where he seemed to be doubting my sanity.

He was really an exasperating person to be around. “Yes, you did.”

Sean gave me a slow smile. “Isla the Intimidator.” He lifted his hands and touched the lapels of my coat. “You don’t scare me.”

“You don’t scare me either but you do annoy me,” I said, honestly. He looked so pleased with himself that I really, really disliked him. I also really hated the fact that my body didn’t seem to agree with me. I felt warm in places that had nothing to do with my winter wear.

This would be a perfect man to hate fuck and it would probably be off-the-charts hot as hell. The thought had me breathing just a little harder, and I felt heat in my cheeks.

It was like he knew what I was thinking. His expression changed, and I saw that same flash of lust in his eyes I’d seen on the elevator.

“Grumpy girl,” he murmured.

“Jerk-off.”

“Man-hater.”

“Asshole,” I said, because it made me angry that I was sexually attracted to him and that he thought he knew anything about me at all.

His grip on my coat tightened and he was leaning in, closer to me. The kiss was actually going to happen this time.

But time stood still, and the anticipation hovered there between us. We both took a breath. It was like the moment when the presenter opens the envelope and knows the winner’s name for an Oscar but doesn’t announce it. Everyone pauses, waits, listens, doesn’t breathe. Then the name is spoken and the room reacts with excitement, cheers, winners jumping up.

It was just like that. We hovered, we waited, then suddenly my name rolled off Sean’s lips in a low, raw demand. “Isla.”

Together we exploded.

The kiss wasn’t tentative or light or questing. It was confident, hard, commanding. When our lips touched, I felt it everywhere. His hands were gripping the collar of my coat, holding me close to him, but it felt like he was stroking every inch of my body. I didn’t shiver. I didn’t melt into him. I collided with him, a hot, furious frenzy of sexual desire.

His tongue invaded my mouth in a sensual dance, a promise of things to come, as he urged me against the wall. I could feel the hard thickness of his cock against my hip and I rocked into it, unrestrained, untethered. It was wild and reckless and filled with raw moans, deep kissing, and his teeth sinking into my tender flesh.

Sean’s hand had shifted and he was cupping my breast, teasing at my nipple. Somewhere in the back of my lust-addled brain, I knew this