have a double meaning, one I'm not willing to look any further into. This truce between us is rocky at best, and there's no way I'm about to let something as banal as sexual chemistry dismantle it.
Clearing my throat, I stride toward him, determined to ignore the suggestive look in his eyes and the sensual dip of his voice.
"Thanks again for letting me retake it," I say, regretting the words as soon as I speak them.
Why is it so hard to get things right with him?
Thanking him was pretty much the dumbest thing I could've done. It makes it sound like he's doing me some great favor, by allowing me to retake the quiz, when it's his fault I'm in this predicament to begin with.
A satisfied smile plays on his lips, but I can't decide if it's in response to my slipup or if cocky-asshole is simply his default setting.
I'm betting on the latter.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sterling
Emmalyn reaches and grabs the quiz from the corner of the desk and plops herself ungracefully into the seat directly in front of me.
I watch as she presses her pen to the page, oddly enamored by the way her slim fingers grip the cylinder.
What in the actual fuck is wrong with me?
I'm not enamored by anything about Emmalyn Price.
Except the way she looks in your shirt, my sex-deprived brain taunts. Just think how much better she'd look in only your shirt...
I inhale a slow, deep breath through my nostrils, holding it a beat before exhaling. I need to center myself, to ground myself, to remember the fucking plan.
If only I knew what my damn plan was anymore. When I'm not doubting her culpability, I'm lusting after her like a teenaged boy with his first Victoria's Secret catalog. The fact that I've jacked off more times in the last few weeks to thoughts of her than I have in the last year is next-level fucked.
There's something about her that twists me up, and it's bullshit, because I'm supposed to be twisting her up. Hence the change of plans. But maybe...maybe I need to up the ante.
I told her I'd ruin her, and I meant it. I just have to try harder. To push harder. Eventually, one way or another, she has to break.
"All done," Emmalyn says, breaking me from my thoughts.
I reach out to take the paper from her, intentionally brushing my fingers against hers. As clear as day, I can see the jolt of pleasure travel through her. And from such a simple touch. Immediately, my mind is brimming with ideas of other ways I could touch her.
Jesus. Christ. What is wrong with me?
She pulls her hand away first. "Thanks for the shirt."
I look back in time to see her shrugging out of it, the smooth skin of her shoulders on display.
Desire pools in my gut. “Let me take you to lunch again?”
“What?” Her question echoes my own thoughts. Because, seriously, what?
“When? Now?” she asks.
“Now.”
“Really?” She swipes her tongue over her bottom lip, in a move that’s far sexier than it has any right to be.
I shove back from the desk, planting my palms on the wooden top. I lean into her space and am instantly taken by her scent mingling with mine. “Say yes,” I croak, wondering, again, what it is about her that knocks me so off course. “Say yes and let me spend time with you, let me be in your space, let me prove to you that I’m trying. Trying to be better, to learn, to see. Please?”
My plea seems to shock her as much as it does me. But I think it’s working; she’s going to give in, because I think she wants me every bit as much as I want her.
We’re both just smart enough not to admit it out loud.
“Okay, yeah. That sounds... great.”
I grin, victorious. “Let’s go.”
As we fall into step with one another, I instinctually bring my hand to the small of her back. There’s something about touching her that calms the raging seas in my mind.
“So, where are we going?” she asks as I open the car door for her.
I wait until she’s buckled before joining her on the driver’s side. “You’ll see.”
The drive is quiet, with Emmalyn staring at the passing scenery and me lost in my thoughts of... well, her. Until we roll through the main town square without stopping at any of the eateries.
“Where did you say we were going again?” Her voice wobbles with the slightest hint of nerves.
Grinning, I drum my