"Why?"
The single word fell from Victoria's lips like a broken thing, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared at James with eyes that had gone glassy with unshed tears. The rejection of her attempted kiss hit her like a physical blow, leaving her feeling exposed and raw in a way that made her chest ache with humiliation.
She'd thrown herself at him literally thrown herself at him and he'd pulled away. Again. No man had ever rejected her the way James had rejected her. Not once, but twice now. The pattern was becoming devastatingly familiar, and each rejection felt like another crack in whatever remained of her composure. Victoria Sharp, who commanded boardrooms and bent powerful men to her will, was being turned away by her own employee and the knowledge burned through her like acid.
James saw the devastation flicker across her features before she could hide it, the way her face crumpled for just a moment before she tried to school it back into neutrality. The sight made something twist painfully in his chest, but he forced himself to maintain his resolve.
"Because I told you to woo me," he said gently, his voice softer now as he took in her dejected expression. "And I was being serious, Victoria. I meant what I said."
The words seemed to hit her like a second wave of rejection. Victoria felt something fracture inside her chest something that had been holding her together through sheer force of will. The careful control she'd spent decades perfecting began to unravel completely, leaving her feeling unmoored and desperate.
She looked at him standing there, so beautiful in his tailored T-shirt with the top buttons of the shirt undone, his dark hair perfectly styled which enhanced his features, his eyes still dark with the same desire that was eating her alive from the inside out. He wanted her, she could see it in every line of his body, in the way his breathing had changed, in the flush that still colored his neck.
But he was still pulling away.
Victoria felt laughter bubble up from somewhere deep in her chest, wild, unhinged laughter that had nothing to do with humor and everything to do with the way her world seemed to be tilting sideways. She pressed her forehead against his exposed chest, feeling the heat of his skin through the gap in his shirt, and let the laughter pour out of her.
It started soft, almost like sobbing, but quickly escalated into something that sounded dangerously close to hysteria. Her body shook against his as wave after wave of uncontrolled laughter wracked through her, each sound edged with desperation and raw need.
James felt alarm spike through his system as Victoria's laughter grew more unhinged. This wasn't the controlled, professional woman he knew, this was someone coming completely apart, and the sight of it made his chest tighten with concern even as his body responded to her proximity.
"Victoria…" he started, but his words were cut off as she suddenly moved.
If she couldn't have what she wanted on her terms, Victoria's fractured mind reasoned, she'd take whatever she could get. The thought shot through her with startling clarity, cutting through the haze of rejection and humiliation like a blade.
Without warning, she wrapped her arms around his slim waist, pressing herself against him with a desperation that made James's breath catch in his throat. The softness of her breasts crushed against his chest sent electricity shooting through his nervous system, and he had to bite back a groan at the sudden intimate contact.
Victoria could feel the heat radiating from his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, could smell his cologne mixed with something uniquely him that made her head spin. She was past caring about propriety or consequences all she could focus on was the overwhelming need to touch him, to claim him in whatever way he'd allow.
James felt his rational thought scatter as Victoria's body molded against his. Every point of contact sent fire racing through his veins, and he struggled to maintain some semblance of control as she pressed closer, her arms tightening around his waist with possessive intensity.
"Victoria, what are you…"
His words died in his throat as he felt the warm, wet heat of her tongue against his exposed chest. Victoria had found the gap in his shirt and was licking his skin with deliberate, erotic slowness that made his entire body go rigid with shock and arousal.
The sensation was unlike anything James had ever experienced, raw and intimate and so unexpected that it short-circuited his ability to think coherently. Victoria's tongue was warm and soft against his skin, tracing patterns that sent bolts of electricity straight to his core.
"What are you doing?" he managed, his voice coming out rough and strained as Victoria continued her ministrations.
She didn't respond with words, only intensified her assault on his senses. Her tongue traced the defined muscles of his chest, following the lines and planes with an attention to detail that suggested she'd been thinking about this about him for far longer than he'd realized.
James tried to pull away, his hands coming up to grasp her shoulders, but Victoria only tightened her hold on his waist, her arms becoming like steel bands around him. The desperation in her grip was palpable, as if she were afraid he'd disappear if she loosened her hold even slightly.
Victoria felt drunk on the taste of his skin, on the way his body tensed and responded to her touch. Every muscle in his torso was defined and warm beneath her tongue, and she found herself cataloging each sensation like she was memorizing them for later.
This was madness, she knew that. But she was past caring about sanity or propriety or any of the rules that had governed her life up until this moment. All she cared about was the man in her arms and the way he made her feel like she was coming alive for the first time in years.
Her tongue found the small mole under his right eye, and she felt James's entire body shudder at the contact.
"I love that mole on you," she whispered against his skin, her voice husky with desire before she leaned up to trace the delicate mole on his face with the tip of her tongue.
James's eyes slammed shut at the intimate contact, his body betraying him as a soft groan escaped his lips. The sensation of Victoria's tongue on his face was so unexpected, so boldly sensual, that it sent his pulse hammering against his throat.
Victoria felt the tremor that ran through him and pressed her advantage, her hands sliding up his back to tangle in his dark hair.
"I love this style on you, James," she murmured, her fingers threading through the silky strands. "You look so good tonight. So dashing."
The compliments fell from her lips like confessions, each one accompanied by another caress, another press of her body against his. James could feel his carefully constructed resolve beginning to crumble under the assault of her touch and her words.
Victoria was beyond rational thought now, operating on pure instinct and desperate need. She could feel James's restraint wavering, could sense the way his body was responding despite his mental protests, and it only fueled her determination to break through his defenses completely.
With boldness that shocked even her, Victoria dragged her tongue from his chest all the way up to his neck in one long, slow stroke that made James's knees nearly buckle with the intensity of the sensation.