I want him to chase me. The realization hits me hard, knocking the breath out of my lungs. Before I can clear the bar, my hand is enfolded in Shane’s larger one and I’m being pulled through a set of double doors behind the bar where I’ve never been. I don’t even know why I make a halfhearted attempt to pull away, but I do. Maybe so I can tell myself later that I tried.

Excitement is humming in my veins, something dark and demanding pooling at the tops of my thighs. Shane’s steps are purposeful, his back flexing beneath his shirt, as he leads me through another door. A stock room, I barely have time to acknowledge before he’s slamming the door closed and pressing me forward over what looks like a waist-high refrigerator. The bent over position he’s put me in is unexpected. I’d anticipated him pressing me up against the door to kiss me. The way he continues to keep me guessing, never doing what I expect, is a crazy turn-on. As if I need any more reasons to crave this guy. I resent him and want him at the same time.

His hips press against my bottom and my forehead drops forward on a soft moan. “I know you won’t tell me you want me right now. Not with words. You’re too damn stubborn.” He leans over my body, so he’s flush against my back. His voice is rough against my ear. “So tell me with your body. Give me more of what I got behind the bar when you couldn’t stop swishing your ass all over me.”

“That was your game. You started it.” I cringe when I hear the halting quality to my immature words.

“Aye. I did start it.” His mouth moves over my neck. “And I’m dying to finish it.”

Jesus, was that a whimper that just came out of me? I reach down deep, making one last attempt to stay sane. “I thought you didn’t want me in the bar for the first time.”

“I meant it, too.” He gives a quick thrust of his hips jarring me against the fridge. “I won’t fuck you tonight, no matter how badly we both need it.”

His harsh language triggers a long, torturous squeeze in my lower body. I’ve never been spoken to like that in a sexual context. I’m far from offended. It’s gritty and honest…and I want more of it. A lot more. I’m kidding myself by thinking I could ever walk away from Shane and this need he’s creating, so I give in and push my bottom up against him, savoring his groan. “What are you waiting for? Permission?”

“Yes,” he groans, clutching my hips.

A breath rattles in my throat, and I jump without looking. “You have it.”

Calloused hands eagerly slip under my shirt. My bra is pushed aside before I have time to register which direction his touch is moving. Shane cups my naked breasts and squeezes with just enough force to make my vision blur under the onslaught of sensation.

“Sexy girl,” he grates, molding them rhythmically. “Maddening girl.”

“You love it.” I don’t know this person anymore who sounds so sexually confident. This girl who not only responds to such challenging words, but responds in kind. Should it be thrilling me this much? I have no answers, only a desire to take it further. Let Shane take it further. My back arches as if I have no control over my own body’s movements anymore. Maybe I don’t.

“Careful, Willa.” He circles my nipples with his thumbs. “I’m starting to like your smart mouth a little too much.”

I can hear my harsh breaths echoing in the small room, but I’m beyond caring. “And if I’m not careful?”

Shane’s raspy inhales of air joins mine. One big hand slides up my throat to cup my jaw. “I’ll find a better use for that mouth. Is that what you want to hear?”

A choked sob is my only answer. My position feels more provocative with each passing minute. I’m pinned down by him, just as he’s told me he wanted. His chest is anchoring me down, his erection pressing snugly against my bottom. I’ve never been taken like this, and I suddenly want it more than anything. I manage to slide my legs farther apart and move my hips in a slow circle.

Shane’s thigh muscles bunch, his low curse burning in my ears. “What are you trying to tell me, babe? You want something between your legs?”

“Yes.”

Shane releases my jaw, drawing his hand roughly down my body and ending at the snap of my jeans. “I’ve been going mad, thinking of you walking around like this all day. What happened to the bloody hoodie?”

“Laundry day.”

Snap. “I didn’t see you leave with any laundry.” He draws down my zipper. “Does that mean I should expect you to be dressed like this again tomorrow?”

“I’ll dress however I—” My words end on a moan when a single finger traces along my center, then pushes into me. Hard. My thighs squeeze together around his hand, holding him there. I don’t think there’s a way for the pressure to feel any more unbelievable, until he begins drawing his finger in and out. “Oh my God.”

“Ah, babe, how long have you been like this?” He doesn’t have to explain his question. I know what he’s asking. I can feel how ready he found me. When I squirm a little in embarrassment, he kisses my neck with a hot, open mouth until I stop. “That night in the alley, I wanted to touch you here so bad. You wouldn’t let me.” He adds a second thick finger and my knees dip down, having gone weak. “You’re letting me touch you now, aren’t you, girl?”

“Yes.” The word falls out of my mouth so quickly, I’m a little alarmed. He’s touching my body, but this control he has over my heightened senses scares me. Frantically, I try and detach my mind from my body, try and experience what Shane is doing to me without losing myself to him. But I can’t. I can’t. His fingers slip from inside me and begin to circle the concentration of all the pent-up stress I have, thanks to him and his words. The way he’s been staring at me. I’m desperate to take some control back. I’ve given him too much.

I reach behind me and slide a hand in between our bodies. My fingers close around his erection where it presses against the fly of his trousers. His hissed curse brings what I suspect is a triumphant smile to my face. Shane’s breath falters, his fingers increasing their circular rhythm between my legs.

“How long h-have you been like this?” I throw his earlier question back at him, but it loses its effect when I gasp the last word.

“Since the airport. Since I turned around and saw you’d given me the slip.” His lips trace over my shoulder. “Did you think I wouldn’t catch you?”