Page 31 of Fury
“You’re a challenge.”
“Challenge or challenging?” she cocked her head slightly to the side, light blue eyes scrutinising me, and even under the overly yellow glow from strip lights that were way past needing replacing, she still was as stunning as anyone I’d ever set eyes on.
“Both.”
She was smaller without those ridiculously high heels on, but still not small. Her hair fell around her shoulders, longer locks dangling over her chest, getting lost under the crisp shirt she wore under her suit. It was baby pink today, softening the black of her jacket and trousers, fastened just high enough that I could see the start of her cleavage, a tiny chain of silver catching in the light as she moved away from me.
Until she couldn’t move any further, the wall now at her back, the door a stride or two to her left.
And still she watched me with those eyes that tested all the patience I didn’t have, her incredibly sculpted lips just there in front of my face. The bulge of a cracking chest was the only thing keeping me from her. A challenge too far. Just too far.
Chapter Fourteen
Suddenly I was trapped in a morgue between two arms of leather and a man looking at me like he might just feast on my flesh. His arms propped against the wall on either side of my head. I hadn’t noticed him walking me backwards. Hadn’t noticed the wall advancing on me. Hadn’t noticed I’d cut myself off from the escape route.
And now I was stuck, Fury’s face mere inches from mine, and his body pushed closer still, until his chest squeezed against me, and his elbows bent either side of my head. My neck burned, my cheeks aflame, and my stomach whirled in a riot of butterflies fighting for freedom.
“Fury,” I warned, my voice betraying me, a whisper not the command I’d intended.
But he didn’t answer, his lips crushing into mine, the back of my head slamming into the wall behind me. I don’t know what took my breath away. The shock of the painful thump against my head or the ferocity of the lips on mine. Plucking, pulling, teasing, his tongue pushing into my mouth, his beard scratching at my skin, my tongue pushing back angrily, fighting and duelling.
A fire licked at my insides, unbearably hot, building from nowhere and engulfing my entire being in a rush of heat. The hands I’d propped against his chest slid around the waistband of his trousers, his body flushed to mine, his entire weight forcing me against the wall at my back. His kiss was brutal, punishing. And I was well and truly fucked as my body gave way to every meaning in it. A hand moved to my side, fingers teasing my shirt from the waistband of my trousers, the brush of a rough pad on the skin on my stomach making me gasp against the mouth that held be prisoner against the wall, unable to think clearly, to function properly. Fury’s fingers crept up my stomach, and the ache between my legs intensified. We could just…here…in the morgue. My pussy pulsed. The thought was so wrong on so many levels, but so fucking right. I wanted to wrap my legs round him right now.
I could do that. Just take what I wanted from him. Right here, right now. His hand paused, squeezing my side, his thumb pushing into the unguarded flesh. My body reacted again, tensing, wanting, needing. Fuck.
Fury’s lips slowed, the tension relaxing, until his mouth pulled back, giving me the chance to breathe properly. To feel the dampness that had pooled between my legs, and the hand that now tangled in my hair, the other gripping my side, both holding me in place in a cold morgue against the wall. I clenched my legs together, trying to find that control I’d had a few minutes before. The control I’d handed over to some big guy I barely knew. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I demanded, my voice hoarse.
“Could ask you the same, doll.”
“You kissed me.”
“You kissed me back. Not like you slapped me.”
“Your hands. Take your hands off me.”
“Fine. But you need to take yours off my arse first.”
Fuck. And they were on his arse. How the hell had they got there?
I pulled them away, biting away the disappointment as the hand left my side and the fingers untangled from my hair.
“What the fuck was that?” The sternness of my words was returning, my resolve creeping back to where it should be, not succumbing to the roughness of a biker’s kiss.
“Sorry. Got distracted.” He smiled, the dimples showing under that beard, his eyes lightening from the darkness of moments ago to the playful annoying boyishness that I was becoming used to seeing. “Didn’t seem like you minded, though?”
I did. I did mind. Every bit. I should have minded. I should have slapped the fucker. Kicked him in the nuts for even thinking about touching me. But the minute those lips had hit mine, there was nothing I could do. Nothing. Fuck. I needed rid of him. Rid of this job. Of chasing money and rectifying accounts. Of the north of England and its bastard cold. Of the people who looked at me with disdain everywhere I went. Apart from him. Fuck.
“We’ve got an intruder to find. Remember?”
“Like I said. Distracted.”
Those eyes again. A hint of darkness descending once more, my stomach rolling over. I slid sideways, brushing against him enough to get myself off that wall, before I lost control again.
“Come on, then. Let’s check the rest.”
We moved in silence down the rest of the corridor, Fury checking the last of the offices at the back of the building, and still nothing looked out of place.