Tracy Wolff

No Apologies


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promised more pleasure than it should be possible to feel. And those strong, work-roughened hands that had delivered on all the promises his eyes had made and many more to boot.

      They’d spent the first two days of their acquaintance in his bed, and she’d come so many times in the first twenty-four hours that she’d lost count some time after number twelve. Much of their subsequent acquaintance had been spent in bed as well—at his place and hers.

      Taking a long, cool drink of water, she smiled sassily at him. Tried to appear unaffected by the rage sizzling—hot and dangerous—in his eyes. It was setting fire to the very air around them until she felt like she could barely breathe, the oxygen trembling in her suddenly shaky lungs. Anger, possession, lust—and other emotions she couldn’t begin to name—shot across the room from him to her. Her nipples—already pressed against the thin silk of her dress—tightened to the point of pain. She knew he could see them, but she was too far gone to care. It took all her control not to spread her legs and beg for it.

      But she refused to back down—even if the prize was the hot and satisfying sex he was the absolute best at providing. Besides, they’d get there eventually. The attraction between them wouldn’t allow anything less.

      Leaning back in her chair, Annalise let her head drop back and ran her hands through her long black hair. The action thrust her full breasts forward, making her erect nipples even more obvious. She stretched, a long, feline movement that inched her dress farther up her thighs and revealed the lace tops of her thigh highs and the smooth, pale skin above them.

      Angelo let out a long, low whistle as he dropped off her second glass of wine. “You’ll have him whimpering in a second, babe,” he whispered in her ear. But a searing look from Gabe had him hightailing it back into the kitchen before she could answer.

      Need shivered through her—hot, aching, alive—and she pushed away from the table before she lost it completely. Grabbing her skinny purse with one hand, she ran the thumb from her other hand over an aroused nipple. Once, twice, in plain view of anyone who cared to look. She didn’t care who else saw as long as Gabe was watching.

      As she turned toward the bathroom, the heat skating up her spine assured her that he was indeed watching her instead of concentrating on whatever his clients were saying. She wasn’t the least bit sorry.

      Chapter Two

      As Annalise closed the restroom door behind her—Emilio’s had one of those big private bathrooms—she was thankful it was at the end of a hallway. It saved them from looking too obvious if Gabe chose to follow her. She laughed before she could stop herself. Like he had a choice.

      Killing time, she reached into her clutch for her favorite lipstick. Fuck Me Red, she reflected as she slicked the sassy gold tube over her lips. The makers had labeled it Valentine Red, but Annalise liked her name better.

      She had no use for valentines. A good fuck, on the other hand, was just about her favorite thing.

      After dropping the lipstick into her purse, she stepped back to get a good look in the full-length mirror to the side of the sink. Red dress, red shoes, red lips. Maybe she should make red her signature color, she mused, her mind shooting back to the heroine’s red gown in the drippy movie Kate and Iris had talked her into watching the night before. She sneered, refusing to remember the sympathetic tears that had sprung to her eyes before she could stop them. She’d batted them away before her best friends could see them—she never would have lived down the chink in the harder-than-diamonds aura she’d spent the last eight years of her life cultivating.

      But the red dress did look hot, she admitted. It brought out the spark in her blue eyes, showed off the natural shine of her long dark hair. And it looked great against her pale skin. Flashy without being slutty; eye-catching without bringing down the house. Or the beasts, she admitted as she turned left and right, checking out her look from every angle. She’d run into her share of animals on the San Diego dating scene in the last few years and while she was a good-time girl, she drew the line at partying with swine. What smart girl didn’t?

      She glanced down and the sequins on her Jimmy Choos winked up at her. God, she loved these shoes. She’d bought them for Gabe—he loved the way she looked naked except for a pair of stilettos. He loved even more the way she wrapped her legs around him and dug the heels into his ass. Just enough to pinch—a little pain to sharpen the pleasure. Her favorite kind.

      Plus, he towered over her very respectable five-foot- seven-inch frame—the heels made it just a little easier for him to fuck her in unusual places. Like restaurant bathrooms, she smirked to herself.

      Suddenly the door crashed open, hitting the wall with a loud bang she refused to react to. Instead, she let her slightly mocking gaze meet Gabe’s infuriated one in the bathroom mirror.

      “What the fuck are you playing at?” Gabe demanded. He was enraged—she glanced downward—and hard enough to pound nails through concrete. Certainly hard enough to pound on her for a while. She grinned despite the menace fairly dripping off him, fighting the urge to lick her lips in anticipation,

      “Hey, lover. What happened to your clients?” She kept her voice low and sassy, just the way he liked it best.

      “Discussing my proposal.” His eyes narrowed dangerously as he studied her. “I decided to give them a few minutes alone.”

      She nodded sagely, her reflection mocking him. “Smart move.”

      “Now answer my question,” he all but snarled, grabbing her arm and spinning her to face him.

      Annalise shrugged, giving him a look brimming with mischievous innocence. “No game. Just a simple pasta dinner.” And an overwhelming need to see him, not that she’d ever admit it.

      It absolutely killed her that she’d wanted to see him so badly that she’d crashed his business dinner to do it. When had he stopped being just a guy she liked to screw and become a guy she couldn’t get through a week without?

      “Bullshit,” he sneered as he slammed her back against the mirror. She could feel his cock—long and thick and hard—pressed against her mons and she fought the urge to spread her legs and ride him. It wasn’t time yet. “You’ve been playing with fire since the moment you walked in.”

      She shrugged. “Well, I do like the burn.”

      With a sound that was part angry and part turned-on, he leaned into her until every inch of him was touching her from shoulder to thigh. He spread her legs with one careless push of her knee and settled between her thighs. Where she’d wanted him all along.

      And then his mouth found hers. Hot, hard, shockingly possessive. Reckless where he was normally careful. Violent where he was normally tender. But tenderness wasn’t what she wanted or needed tonight. Right now, she needed to feel the burn.

      Wrapping her arms around Gabe’s neck, she pulled him closer even as she lifted herself toward him. The mirror was cold against her partially-bare back, but Gabe was scorching hot—the combination of two such different sensations excited her to a fever pitch before they’d even started.

      Opening her mouth under his onslaught, she let him devour her with his lips, his tongue, his teeth. Let him feed on her as if he would never get enough. She wanted to surrender everything she had to that mouth, everything she was.

      He pressed deeper and deeper, demanded more and more. Her head whirled, her knees trembled—and Annalise realized suddenly, as his tongue raided every corner of her mouth, that it would never be enough. This would never be enough. She would die wanting this man inside of her. The realization was as unexpected as it was devastating.

      “Don’t do it again,” he growled, his hands cupping her breasts while he squeezed her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. Hard.

      She wanted to whimper but pride wouldn’t allow it. Even so, she had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from crying out when he began to move, his hot cock thrusting between her legs.

      “Do what?” Her voice was shakier than she liked.

      His