He nips my skin again, his stubble scraping. "You want me, don't you?"
"No. Yes." A soft, frustrated whimper climbs up my throat. "Stop talking and kiss me, Briggs."
He tips my head back, his mouth crashing against mine. I moan against his lips, my fingers digging into his scalp. God. He doesn't kiss me. He annihilates me, licking into my mouth like he's been dying to taste me.
I kiss him back the same way, frantic in a way that's brand new, desperate in a way I've never felt. My blood turns to steam in my veins, my core clenching painfully.
His hands tighten on my hips, drawing me closer.
"Are you wet for me, Tia?"
"See for yourself," I gasp against his lips.
He kisses me again, deeper this time. And then, "No."
It takes a second for my brain to catch up.
"W-what?"
He steps back, releasing me. "I said no, Tia."
I gape at him, my heart thudding unevenly, my brain trying to process. Did he seriously just say no? After following me around, flirting, driving me crazy, he's just…saying no?
What the fuck?
He cups my cheek, his smile soft. There's something in his gaze, something intoxicatingly, terrifyingly earnest. "Told you that I wasn't trying to fuck you," he murmurs. "I'm not going to treat you like some wedding hookup, baby. That isn't what this is."
Baby.
"Get off me," I growl, visceral panic surging through me as soon as he calls me that. I push against his chest, fight or flight kicking in, my stomach churning the same way it always does whenever anyone calls me that. The fact that he's the one who just did it makes it even worse.
I was actually going to…
Another wave of panic courses through me, threatening to close my throat.
There's no way I'm giving him whatever it is that he's after here. No way in hell. I don't care how much he pretends this is something else, it'snot.
I don't even know him!
He definitely doesn't know me or anything about me.
Except…he steps back, lifting his hands in the air like he isn't a threat, as if he senses the panic and doesn't want to scare me. But it's all bullshit. Briggs Ward might just be the biggest threat I've ever met.
I push past him, my heart thundering so loud, it's all I hear.
Until he speaks again.
"When you're ready for me, I'll be waiting."
"That'll never happen," I swear. "Never, ever."
"Yeah, it will." His soft, confident laugh chases me from the alcove.
I'm not entirely surprised to find him waiting for me when I step into the lobby of my hotel early the next morning. I come to a stop in the elevator, just staring at him for a long moment.
He's leaning up against a column, his t-shirt stretched over the broad wall of his chest, his eyes locked on his phone. He's far too gorgeous, especially at six in the morning.
Panic receded as soon as he was out of sight last night, but I still tossed and turned all night, ill at ease and turned on at the same time. I even fucking dreamed about him.