Brynne

My body and mind war with each other as Harrison’s mouth consumes me.

Stop, my brain demands.

More, my body screams.

His hands roam down my back, his touch igniting a heat that scorches my entire body.

What am I doing? This is Harrison Fucking Redmond. The boy who broke my heart. The man who represents everything I hate.

I need to stop before it goes too far.

But I don’t want to.

I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even knowing I’m going to get burned.

“Harrison,” I breathe out roughly, fingers still curled in his shirt as I tell him, “Stop. I-I can’t.”

He presses his forehead against mine, and cups my jaw in his palms. Blue eyes study me with heated intensity. “Can’t or won’t?”

“Both.”

The look of determination in his face doesn’t falter, if anything it only intensifies. And that scares the hell out of me, because I know men like him. Once they see a challenge, nothing will stop them from getting what they want.

And Harrison wants me.

That knowledge fills me with a small sense of excitement.

He gives a small grunt and drags his thumb across my bottom lip, causing my body to tremble. “We’ll see.”

There’s a promise in his words, one I can’t miss.

So damn arrogant. He’s always walked around like he could have any woman he wanted. And he could – except me.

I won’t give into his charms. Because deep down I know what kind of man he really is.

Selfish.

Conceited.

More concerned about money than people.

I ran away from that life, and I won’t get dragged back into it. Not even for Harrison Redmond.

A small spark of anger ignites inside me, enough to give me the strength to push past him, despite the way my legs have turned to jelly.

“You need to go.” I open the door, then cross my arms across my chest, and give him what I hope is a steely look. “You should never have come here. It isn’t right. I’m your daughter’s teacher.”

He tilts his head, brows drawn down, lips pursed, and I think he’s going to argue. My body begs him to argue. Instead, he gives a small nod and starts towards me, but before he leaves, he leans into me and whispers, “I like a good challenge.”

“It’s not a challenge. I’m just not interested in you.”

He chuckles and brushes his knuckles across my cheek, causing my rebellious body to tremble once again. “I don’t believe you.”

I breathe out heavily, gritting my teeth, not trusting my voice to argue.

His mouth quirks up in a delicious grin. “I’m not a patient man, especially not when I want something. And I want you, Brynne.”

Narrowing my eyes, I blurt out angrily, “You don’t know anything about me. What you want is sex. And I’m sure there are a million women in this city that would be more than happy to give it to you.”

“But not you?” There’s a teasing in his voice that says he doesn’t believe me. His hand comes up and rests on the wall behind me, the other on the door, once again trapping me, but not touching me.

“No. Not me. Despite what you think, you are resistible.”

This time he laughs hard. A deep rumbling that vibrates from his chest.

God, the arrogance of the man.

“Then resist me, Brynne,” he says, still smiling, breath warm against my lips, reminding me of his kiss. My body is aching for more of his touch. My nipples hard. My pussy hot and wet, begging him to fill me.

“That’s-” My voice cracks and I close my eyes against the humiliation creeping into my cheeks, because I know he can read my body and my thoughts. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“Two weeks,” he growls against my ear.

I blink up at him. “Excuse me?”

“Two weeks or sooner and you’ll be in my bed.”

My mouth drops open. “You really are an egotistical prick.”

Another chuckle. “Yes. But you still want me.”

“I don’t.”

“Then prove it.”

“How?”

“Have dinner with me.”

“Dinner?” I’m sure it’s some kind of trick.

“Friday night. Penelope is with her grandmother this weekend. So if you decide to come home with me-”

“I won’t.”

His mouth quirks to one side. “Let’s start with dinner and see where it goes from there.”

I shake my head, but before I can say no, his mouth is on mine again. The kiss is soft, slow, patient, but it’s enough to silence my protest, and turn my logical side of my brain to mush.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he says against my lips, before turning and walking out the door, leaving me standing there, unsure of what the hell just happened.