Jaggar might hate everything about Griffin Styles, but her body sure didn't. As she walked down the hallway, she was well aware of him, of his body heat. It was so damn inconvenient that he was hot. Well, there was no accounting for good looks. "You're very sweet, but you don’t have to escort me to the elevator."

"I have a meeting, princess. Some of us have real work to do."

There it was again. The idea that she somehow hadn't worked her ass off to get here. That she had somehow coasted. Where did he get that from? He'd hated her from the instant she showed up and she'd always wondered why.

They stepped into the elevator and were quickly joined by three other people. They adopted the appropriate elevator behavior, face front, nod to those you know, but shut the fuck up.

On the next floor, five more people stepped in and everyone jostled to make room, with the sounds of “Fourth floor please,” and “Please hit number five for me.” She was pressed into him.

The next floor made it worse because she was right up against him, nowhere to run with his cologne wafting and circling around her, making her crazy. Making her want things ... all the things, all the dirty things.

She could feel his breath at her right ear and she couldn’t help the slight shiver. Why did Mr. Walking Sex-On-A-Stick have to be such an asshole? It hardly seemed fair.

On the next floor, two people left, but then three more stepped on. And that was it: she was pressed so close to him they might as well have merged bodies. Or be having sex. Damn.

She would not think about having sex with Griffin Styles. She wouldn’t wish that judgmental, condemning expression on her worst enemy.

Jaggar held herself absolutely still, trying everything she could in order not to touch him. But it was pretty impossible with them packed in so closely. The guy in front of her shifted to pull his phone out and bumped into her ... which meant she bumped into all six feet of gorgeous, insanely sexy, Griffin.

She felt rather than heard his sharp gasp as her ass came into direct contact with his crotch. Neither one of them moved, breathed or so much as twitched.

But then she felt something. And maybe it was an unconscious response to the jostling. Maybe he’d meant to do it, but normally, he avoided touching her as much as she avoided touching him.

But today, his hand automatically went to her waist to steady her. Her core tightened and she bit her lip to keep from moaning out loud while her body melted, her core going slick and wet in preparation.

Against her ass, she felt the hard, thick rise of his erection. Holy hell. Griffin Styles was packing all kinds of heat. The kind of heat that made women lose their minds.

If anyone dared to ask her about it later, she'd deny it, but her body subconsciously knew what to do. She knew to incline her torso just so, thereby pressing her ass further against him. His low muttered curse in her ear was enough to make her body shake.

What was she doing? She hated him. He hated her. They hated each other. But in that moment Jaggar knew two things: Griffin Styles was hung like a porn star and he wanted her. As much as she wanted him. Too bad he was such an asshole because she had a strict ‘we need to at least like each other to fuck’ policy. Not to mention they worked together. And well, the whole asshole thing again. You already said that. Well, it was weighted extra.

But, in the locked moments of that elevator when they were cocooned by all those people, they stood in their own little world. Their harsh breaths mingling as she made tiny incremental movements with her ass on his dick.

His hand tightened on her hips. Flexing and unflexing.

What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing? Her brain screamed and railed, but as the elevator stopped and two people escaped the sardine can, giving them just that little bit of breathing room, they stayed locked in their position, cocooned by lust and need and the promise of something dirty and mind blowing.

Another two people made their escape and her brain tried desperately to drag her body away from their dirty dancing position. It wasn’t until the elevator approached the fourth floor, where most of the people were trying to get off that she made the conscious effort to step away. She even managed a countdown. Move your ass Jaggar in three, two, one ...

In the same instant, they both let go, breaking that sensual hold on one another. As everyone escaped the confines of the hot box, Griffin and Jaggar kept to their sparring corners, neither one of them looking at the other, just up at the floor numbers going up, until they were alone.

Neither one of them spoke. They just exited as if they hadn’t just done the riskiest and sexiest thing she'd ever done in her life.

Jaggar had never been so relieved to leave the confines of an elevator in her life. What had they done? Okay so maybe it was the equivalent of heavy petting, so not the end of the world, but it had felt so much more intense than that.

As she walked towards her meeting, she could feel his presence behind her. His confident strides. The sure fall of his feet. She spent a good amount of time watching the man walk. Even though his gaze was always intense and focused, the walk was pure, arrogant, fucktard swagger.

He knew he was good looking. He knew the effect he had on men and women alike. No Ken doll news reporter here. He came with anatomical parts and all.

And one day, when she was all alone with her thoughts, she was going to mentally examine those parts. Stop it Jaggar, get your shit together. The managing producer and execs want to meet with you. You can’t have ass-turd on the brain when you're in there.

But as she made turn for turn, he matched her steps. Finally, she stopped and turned, causing him to bump into her. For a split second, their bodies lined up just so, and damned if this way wasn’t even hotter.

"What the hell, Jaggar?" His thick, dark brows snapped down into a frown.

"Stop following me."

"Sorry to bust your bubble princess, but I’m not following you. I'm headed to a meeting."

She stepped back. "Well, you’re too close."

His gaze swept over her body, reminding her of just how close they'd been seconds ago. She saw the hunger in his gaze. And the heat. Unfortunately, she also saw the disdain. This is Griffin, girl. Don’t ever forget it.

She whipped back around and deliberately slowed her step to give her ass a little sway. She could have sworn she heard a muttered curse behind her and she smiled to herself.

She made the final turn down toward the Managing Director's office and he still followed her. "Stalker much, Griffin?"

"What are you getting at, Jaggar? I have a fucking meeting with Ryan right now.”

She stopped for the second time and scowled at him. "Don’t be a jackass. I have a meeting with Ryan." His brow furrowed slightly, then smoothed out."Maybe Christmas is coming early this year and you're being transferred and Ryan wants me to watch."

"Dream on, Styles. I'm here to stay. You’re just going to have to deal with me showing you up."

He laughed and the sound was smooth and rich. "Is that what you call diving head first for a stripper pole? Somehow I think my position with the network is safe from you."

When they arrived at Ryan's office, her stomach twisted. This couldn't be good news. Maybe she really had screwed up this morning. She'd done her best to recover but maybe it just wasn’t enough. And she and Ryan weren't on the best of terms. Not since her first week here. Without warning a flash of memory invaded her mind.

Ryan’s sneering face, his hands all over her, the smell of tequila on his breath. She shook her head to clear it. No. She’d found a way to deal with that night. She wasn’t going back.

Besides, Griffin was his protégé and bosom buddy. She made it a point to avoid Ryan when she could. The rest of the time, she was cold and aloof. And she carried pepper spray with her wherever she went. She wasn’t getting caught off guard by that asshole ever again.

Griffin held the door open for her and gave her a dazzling smile. "Ladies first. I can’t wait to hear what Ryan has in store for us."

Jaggar swallowed hard. She could not fail at this. Not when she was this close. Her mother couldn't be right.

* * *

Griffin was fucking with her of course. He had no idea why Ryan wanted to see them both. Maybe news of their one-up-manship and pranks had gotten to his boss. Though that was unlikely. Competition in newsrooms was fierce, and their little battle wasn’t nearly as epic as some he'd seen before. Besides he and Ryan had been friends for years. At most, he’d get a slap on the wrist.

Fucking with her was par for the course. Hell, she'd fucked with him on that elevator. He was still hard. And probably would be every single time he thought about her bending slightly forward, her ass rubbing against his dick, intentionally making him insane in the membrane.

When she'd first bumped into him, he'd held it together by a thread, but then she'd been pushed further into his chest and well, she had an ass made for sin. But then she'd started to move and... well ... that happened. He didn’t even know what to call that. All he'd known was he'd gripped her hip and for one long minute on the elevator, he'd felt like they were alone in there and he'd ached so bad to just have her once and get it out of his system. Thinking maybe he'd be able to focus and be able to keep it together. But no. They'd been in public, so all he could do was hold her hips as she made his dick harder than a titanium-enforced, diamond drill bit. He wouldn’t be able to walk right for a month thanks to that stunt.

But neither one of them spoke about what had just happened. As if it was just a figment of his imagination. But given the state of his erection, it had happened. He didn't imagine that.

He let her into Ryan's office first. He might despise her, but he was a gentleman ... somewhat. Ladies first ... and second ... and if he was really on that night then ... fuck, focus.

Ryan stood when Jaggar walked in. "Jaggar, Griffin. Thanks for coming."

He and Jaggar took their seats and resolutely kept their eyes off of each other. Griffin spoke first. "What's up, Ryan? What are we both doing here?"

The Senior Manager of Programming of TVN studied them both with a smile. "So as you know we've been looking to do an offshoot off our primetime news slot. A segment that focuses on interviews of high profile individuals. But this would be a more regular segment instead of just airing assignments as we have them. Twice a week for an hourly spot. The executives would like to have the two of you cohost it."

The blood rushed through his head. Holy shit. He'd done it. His own show. Just like he'd always talked about. He'd done it. His father would have been so proud. But then his mind caught up with what Ryan had actually said. "What do you mean the two of us?" There was no way he was letting Little Miss More-Tits-Than-Brains encroach on his dream. He'd worked hard to get here and there was no way he was letting her in on it. "You're shitting me right? We talked about me getting my own segment. Not sharing one." Instead of getting rid of her, she was taking more and more of his pie.