Pierce
“A most perfect interview,” Felice said, and not for the first time. But her emerald eyes were dull and unhappy. “I don’t think it could have gone better if I had scripted it!” She laughed, her giggles sounding hollow to his ears. “Didn’t it go well, Pierce?”
He made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, opening the door to her mansion a little too hard. All this for some cheating prick that doesn’t deserve her. Pierce sighed, trying not to make his distaste too obvious. This was for the money, he told himself for the thousandth time.
But that was difficult to remember when she was so close to him. “I’m going to win,” she said, pulling off her boots and tossing them haphazardly to the side. “And,” she said, turning to face Pierce as she closed the door, “I like winning.”
Before he could stop her, Felice was too close. So close he could smell the coconut of her conditioner and the spicy, sort of cinnamon scent of her skin. The mix filled his nostrils with the smell of her, and Pierce could immediately feel his body react, hardening up like he was still a teenager with no control.
It was too late when Felice noticed, her eyes glittering as she made that final spin, putting her within easy reach for a kiss. Their eyes locked. The false smile faded from her lips, replaced by a kind of confused awe. His whole body on fire, Pierce did the stupidest thing he’d ever done in his life.
He kissed Felice Domiano.
Her lips tasted like candy-flavored lip gloss, the clean smell of her invading to lay claim to Pierce’s sex-clouded mind. Her lips were soft, pliant from surprise, and full under his own, and Pierce nearly shuddered under the power of that gentle brush of lips.
Realizing his mistake immediately, Pierce pulled back, nearly slamming his head into the front door as he tried to put some space in between them. Felice looked up at him through her long, dark eyelashes, her bedroom eyes darkening with something that looked a lot like lust. Her tiny, beautiful wrists came up to rest on his shoulders, her fingers sliding along the back of his neck.
There was something intensely innocent about her too-big eyes, about the way her lips formed a pout that set every inch of Pierce’s body aflame. With a shy-looking smile, Felice inched forward. Pierce’s breath hissed violently through his teeth as he inhaled sharply. But that didn’t stop her.
Tugging on his shoulders with her delicate hands, Felice bent Pierce to her will. No matter how much stronger he was, he couldn’t have fought Felice off if he’d wanted to.
And right now, he really, really didn’t want to.
Pulling her closer, Pierce picked Felice up into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding herself up and pressing her perfect mouth to his. This kiss was much less gentle, the hunger of her lips, tongue, and teeth assaulting his common sense. He knew this was wrong, that a guy like Pierce didn’t belong in a world like Felice’s. But he couldn’t seem to convince his body of it.
But then there was a knock on the door behind him, and it shattered whatever had built up between them.
# # #
Felice
Felice was livid with whoever was on the other side of that door. God, Pierce was hot. Her whole body was on fire just from a single kiss, and she could drown a person in her panties right now. No one had ever made her feel this way with just a kiss, no one had ever made her so wet without even trying.
Never in her whole life had she ever wanted to take someone right on the damned hardwood floor of her front room.
Taking a deep breath, Felice untangled herself from Pierce, dropping back to her feet. She wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand, her eyes dripping fiery rage. Taking another, deeper breath, she tried to re-center and realign herself in preparation for whatever visitor was on the other side of her front door.
Pierce stepped away, but not too far away.
Felice braced herself, then opened the door. Her face slackened with surprise, her whole body turning into one giant piece of ice. Never in her life had she ever gone from being turned on to cold granite in a matter of seconds, but seeing Clay Patterson knocking at her door felt like a bucket of ice water being poured over her.
She stood there, staring at her ex stupidly, a war of emotions twisting up her insides. He looked much the same as he always did: handsome, put together, and clean cut. Pale and proper.
Felice waited for the rise in her pulse and the butterflies in her stomach that normally occurred when he was around, but instead she just felt empty and cold.
Clay’s eyes ran up and down Felice’s body like she was a purchase he was considering. Then his eyes moved over to Pierce, whom Felice temporarily forgot was still there.
“Can I help you?” she asked Clay, her feelings all jumbled up. She didn’t know what to think of him coming here.
“Hey, babe. Did you miss me?” he asked like nothing had happened between them. His mouth pulled up in that familiar, wicked half-smile, the one that Felice used to find so completely charming.
It didn’t look charming now. Felice crossed her arms over her chest. “No, I didn’t. And I’m not your babe anymore, so please get out.” The nerve of him! How dare he come into her house like nothing had changed!
“Oh, come on, babe, I just want to talk to you.” Clay held out his hands, a beseeching look on his beautiful face. “That’s all. Just want to talk. Alone.” He was suddenly glaring over at Pierce again who was standing right behind Felice. She couldn’t see Pierce’s face, but she could feel the rage boiling up in him from here. Wincing, Felice took a step back, pressing against Pierce’s body. Suddenly, she felt a little better, and the world looked a little clearer.
“Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of my bodyguard.” Felice lifted her right hand, putting it over Pierce’s which rested on her left shoulder.
Clay snorted, rolling his eyes. “Babe, it’s me. You don’t need a bodyguard between us. Just let me talk to you for a moment, alone. Outside. Five minutes, Felice. That’s all I ask.”
Felice wanted to open her mouth and tell him to screw off, that he didn’t deserve those five minutes, but the words caught in her throat. The expression on his face was one of pleading, and it was an expression that Felice always gave into.
“Not happening.” Pierce’s voice came from over her shoulder, quiet but firm. There was no arguing with a voice like that.
Annoyed, Felice turned back to Clay. She didn’t like Pierce assuming he could speak for her. She didn’t like it all. Sighing, she pushed those thoughts away. “Deal with Clay first, then talk to Pierce about his sudden possessiveness.”
Clay, however, was a man used to getting his way. “Fine, Felice. I try to come here and stitch fences, and you act like a spoiled little bitch.”
Felice made a face. “You mean ‘mend fences,’ Clay,” she said, automatically. She hadn’t meant to correct his idiom, but it was so incredibly wrong that she couldn’t help herself.
Throwing his hands in the air, Clay just made a disgusted sound. Felice could feel Pierce’s hand tighten on her shoulder, probably in anger. “Seriously?”
Felice cleared her throat, trying to get Clay to settle down a little. His anger along with Pierce’s was making the massive front room of her house feel small. She needed to defuse this situation before it got any worse. “Just tell me why you are here, Clay. Please. Calmly.”
“Fine,” he snapped, turning to face her straight on, his eyes locked with hers. “I was hoping that you and I could talk about this misunderstanding and get back to where we had been. But I see there’s no point. Once you’re done sleeping with the help, you selfish cow, give me a call and maybe I’ll think about taking you back.”
Felice felt hot, then cold, then hot again. Her skin crawled, her chest inflating with hot, angry air. Never in her life had she ever wanted to actually tear someone’s hair out, but Clay was really pushing the right buttons tonight. Taking a deep breath, Felice didn’t know what she was going to say, but it was not going to be nice.
Unfortunately, Pierce had the same sort of idea.
Before she could say anything or think to stop him, Pierce had thrown himself forward, grabbing both of Clay’s arms into what looked like a wrestling hold. It looked painful, but not in a permanent way. But one small movement of Pierce’s arms could pop Clay’s arm out of his socket or break a bone.
Felice gasped, every muscle in her body locking up like someone had put her in a freezer.
Pierce’s voice was void of all emotion when he said, “Take that back; that is the last time you show disrespect to Ms. Domiano.”