Tempts Me by Megan Hart Page B

had no idea how to punch.
    He held her off the way you might an angry toddler, but storm clouds had built up in his expression. Simone shivered at the sight of his tightly controlled fury, her mouth dry. She touched the tip of her tongue to the center of her upper lip.
    Elliott turned the woman, holding her tight against him so he could speak directly in her ear. It was clear she struggled, but whatever he said calmed her. Simone held her breath, wishing desperately she could hear what was going on. But just when she thought Elliott was going to bend the blonde over the desk again, he let her go and pushed her gently toward the door. She went a few reluctant steps, her pout clear even at this distance, but when she stopped and looked like she might try to say something, Elliott very clearly dismissed her.
    He even turned his back, and at this angle the blonde couldn’t see his face. Simone could, and she had an instant’s sympathy for the other woman, who obviously didn’t know how to handle a man like Elliott. Simone’s sympathy lasted only a few seconds though, because in the next moment the woman tossed her hair, red lips mouthing a very clear “Fuck you” that Elliott shrugged off in a way that must’ve stung her pride. Hard.
    The blonde flounced out, her attempt at slamming the door behind her diminished by the fact the doors in the offices downstairs all operated on a quiet pneumatic system that didn’t allow for banging. Elliott leaned against the desk, arms crossed, to watch her go, his expression solid and bland. Simone had seen the spark in his eyes though, even from this distance.
    What would it be like, Simone wondered, to have him focus that look on her? To feel his hand on her wrist? Gripping hard, maybe grinding the bones together, just a little?
    It would be delicious.
    *   *   *
    He should’ve known better than to date a woman who thought pouting was a good way to get what she wanted, but Barry Healey had introduced them at a dinner party a few weeks back and … well, Elliott had always had a hard spot in his pants for blondes. Her name was Sherie. She was twenty-seven but had told him she was twenty-five. She worked in retail.
    He wouldn’t be seeing her again.
    She’d been the one to suggest they stop off in his office between dinner and the party, after. She’d wanted to see his desk, she’d said with a smile that had stirred his cock just enough to make the idea seem appealing, even though earlier she had nibbled on a dry salad and declined dessert and hadn’t been able to keep up her end of the conversation. She’d slipped a hand up his thigh beneath the table, letting her knuckles brush his groin, so he hadn’t misread that intention, at least.
    About the other … well, he’d made a mistake.
    “Oooh, I’m a naughty girl,” Sheri had cooed with a flutter of her lashes he was sure she thought was sexy. With his hand up her dress, fingers finding her heat, Elliott was sure she also thought this coy game was appealing, as though pretending she hadn’t orchestrated this entire seduction would somehow make him want her more. “Maybe I need a spanking.”
    He’d only been half turned on before that, idly interested in fucking her because she was beautiful and willing, but at those words his cock had gone iron hard. His heart pounded. She’d been flipped over, hands on the desk and dress up above her ass before she’d had time to blink. He’d barely tickled her with his palm, leaving a handprint that would’ve faded before she even walked out the door. Then another to the other ass cheek, and that’s when she’d turned on him.
    “What the fuck?” Sherie’s snarl was sexier than her pout could ever have been, but Elliott had backed off at once with his hands up.
    “You said you wanted a spanking.”
    “I didn’t mean … that hurt, you asshole!” She’d swung at him, and he’d stopped her.
    Sherie had thrown a few more choice insults at him, but when he didn’t