He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything.

My cheeks start to warm as he regards me. Why did the jerk even ask, if he was just going to stand there staring?

“What?” I’m starting to get embarrassed again, but it’s different from before—a ticklish, almost excited twist in my stomach, instead of an upset, painful tightening. And the defensive tone of my own voice only intensifies the feeling.

“Nothing. I’m just a little surprised, that’s all.”

I roll my eyes in an attempt to stop staring into his. “Come on, don’t give me that. You know the effect you have on women.”

That grin is full-blown now. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“No. I refuse to play travel agent for your ego trip.”

“If you want, I can take my turn first.” Before I can stop him, Noah starts listing my pros. “You’re the smartest, most diligent person I’ve ever met. Watching you work is fucking hot—in your element, poised and confident, the way your pretty blue eyes flash when you’re about to tear some poor schmuck apart. I can’t help wondering if you’re just as fierce and tireless and creative in bed. You’re honest to a fault . . . is your body honest too? Do you wear pleasure on your sleeve? Or would you try to hold back, make me work for it? Believe me, I’m up to the challenge.”

His words knock me breathless. What the hell just happened? And why does it have to make me tingle in the worst way?

The half praise, half dirty talk strikes a weak point I didn’t even know I had. Or maybe I only feel this way because it’s Noah who’s saying such sweet, filthy things, gazing at me so fervently. His husky voice softens and warms me, and I suddenly feel so exposed. Unshielded. But not in a bad way, not like a naked-at-the-important-meeting nightmare, because I know that Noah would never hurt me. He would never take advantage of my vulnerability.

Or maybe he would, but only in the ways that I secretly want.

Noah takes my hands, turns my palms up in surrender, his thumbs rubbing light circles onto the soft thin skin under my wrists. When I can’t repress the shiver that races through me, he grins like a wolf. Oh, he saw that reaction, all right. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and I both hate it and love it.

“And I’d do just about anything to get my hands on your amazing body,” he continues mercilessly. “I’ve never seen a more perfect woman . . . every inch of you, tight ass and luscious tits and legs just made to wrap around my back. Kissing you the other night wasn’t nearly enough. I’d love to watch your expression change as I pound into you. Watch you give up control, turn off your brain and just feel.”

“Y-you don’t play fair,” I finally manage to stutter.

“Hey, that’s not how this works. Compliments, not insults. Believe me, I already have a pretty good idea of what you think my bad points are.”

“Uh . . .” I swallow. “You’re pretty cool too, but in a different way. Good with people and words and stuff, instead of numbers and strategy.”

“Is that why you’re blushing right now?”

In a way, yes. But his sculpted jaw, full lips, and piercing dark eyes are what make his words truly intoxicating. And the fact that he still hasn’t let go of my hands.

“You take charge, and sometimes I hate that, but sometimes . . . it’s nice to have a break.”

His smile turns mischievous. “Oh? I’ll be sure to make a note of that. Anything else?”

I retreat to safe, familiar ground. Harsh words, something I can deny later as just a joke. “Are you just trying to get me to admit you have a nice ass?”

But when his only response is a silky, dark chuckle, I realize my mistake. He wasn’t fooled at all—why did I ever think he would be?—and now I’ve backed myself into a corner. Literally and figuratively. As I talked, Noah slowly leaned closer, bit by bit, until I can just barely feel the tickle of his breath.

Suddenly, acutely aware of the rising temperature between us, I cut myself off. “Shouldn’t we get back? It’s rude to keep Miss Osbourne waiting.”

Noah’s stare is too intense for me to look away. “The only woman I’m interested in entertaining right now is you.”

I shift a fraction, needing to leave but wanting to stay, and I realize that my panties are soaking wet. Everything I never let myself feel or think about Noah rushes to the surface. My body doesn’t care that he’s a juvenile jerk. I hate that my libido is so totally out of my control. I hate that I’ve always had such a wicked crush on Noah. Fate must be laughing her ass off at me right now.

Noah leans even closer, stopping just short of contact. I can almost feel the brush of his lips against mine, and my stomach clenches with desire.

“Still only first base?” he whispers against my skin. “Or do you want more?”

I don’t answer. I’m not even sure I can speak. I just wet my lips.

That one tiny move is like loosening a coiled spring. Noah lunges forward to devour my mouth. My knees weaken with his expert onslaught. His strong arms wrap around me and his hands are everywhere, igniting my nerves, fingertips grazing what feels like every inch of bare skin. I feel a flash of frustration that my dress is so modest; I want his touch all over me, unrestrained.

He yanks our hips together and I feel his erection press into my belly. Something wild shoots through me, a fierce, territorial satisfaction. That hardness is all for me. Not Estelle, not any of his past conquests. I’m the one who’s making him feel this way right now. Such powerful, primal need aimed squarely at me and only me.