She thinks she’s going to get off that easily?

I watch with narrowed eyes as Callie heads toward the restrooms. Sure, I got the last word, but it’s not satisfying when I know she’s allowing it, merely to run off and make her escape. The only thing that soothes my irritation at our verbal sparring getting cut short is the knowledge that she’s probably heading to rinse her mouth out.

My lips curl into a menacing grin as I set my glass down on the table and stride in the direction she took. I bet she’s in there right now, standing over the porcelain sink, gargling and spitting like the snooty princess she is.

I’m barely two steps away from the door to the ladies’ room when it’s tugged open, and Callie steps out. I can’t help but notice that her lip gloss is gone, her lips now a duller hue of pink.

When I take a large step forward, her head jerks up, and her eyes go wide at finding me here. I stalk toward her, crowding her into the darkened end of the hallway. When her back meets the wall, I splay one palm flat against the surface to one side of her head and lean in, attempting to take up all the surrounding space. Her lips part, and I catch the hint of something minty, realizing she probably popped a breath mint in her mouth.

“You need to concede.” I dip my head lower, ensuring that she has no choice but to meet my gaze. “You don’t belong here. You can’t hack this job.”

“I can.” Her response comes out sounding a bit breathless. “And I will.” Her attempt at bravado is commendable, but she and I both know that’s all it is. Boasting, pure and simple.

She swallows hard, the action drawing my gaze to her throat and her rapidly beating pulse. There’s something about her—something that makes it impossible to look away whenever she’s around. Her damn lips have been my focus along with the freckle sitting high on her cheekbone. It’s made me wonder if there are any more on her body. Or what else is beneath the prim and proper pencil skirts she wears to work.

My gaze travels to the nape of her neck. Another freckle dots right above the collar of her shirt, a straight line from the one on her cheek. Like a connect the dots picture. And fuck it all, I want to find the next connection. Her smooth skin is so enticing, and without thinking, I lower my head and dust my lips against the silky skin at the base of her throat. The moment I do, it’s as though something snaps in both of us.

Her hands grip the short strands of my hair, tugging me up, and our mouths meet in a feverish kiss. Our tongues meet, twining and tangling with one another in a passionate dance. I press closer, and her legs spread to allow me between them. The moment she feels the evidence of my hardening cock, she releases a tiny moan in the back of her throat.

I skim my hand up her side to cup her breast, and she arches into my touch. My thumb grazes over the top of her hardened nipple, causing it to pucker further. Dragging my mouth from hers, I trail a smattering of wet kisses along the column of her throat with every intention of making my way to her breasts—more importantly, to her nipples. Jesus. Just thinking about sucking on them and causing her fingers to tighten their grasp on my hair as she arches against me makes me even harder.

I reach for the hem of her shirt, intent on lifting it up, eagerly awaiting the sight of what’s beneath, but she stops me.

“Reid?”

It’s something in the way she says my name that draws my attention. And when I raise my eyes to meet hers, I freeze. It’s as if a fog lifts, and I give the slightest shake of my head to rid myself of the lingering effects.

She’s staring back at me with wide eyes laced with uncertainty and something else I can’t decipher. Her gaze flicks down to where my hand is fisting the side of her shirt.

“What are you doing?”

Abruptly shoving away from her, I run my hands over my head. Because fuck.

I’d just imagined that whole scenario. And I’d been close to following through on it. Hell, if she hadn’t said anything, I would have taken her in this hallway. Didn’t give a shit if anyone saw.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I’m...” I raise my gaze to tentatively meet hers. “Sorry. I just…” I drag a hand down my face, shaking my head in dismay at a loss for words. “I’m just...shit.”

She’s fallen so quiet that I can’t resist glancing at her, only to find her studying me curiously. Then her features brighten ever so slightly and the corners of her mouth tilt upward, hinting at the smile begging to be released.

“So you admit that you’re shit?” She nods, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Glad to know we agree on something.” A small smile breaks through now. Her hands smooth down her shirt, but I can still detect the tiny wrinkles from where I’d had the material bunched in my fist.

Ready to lift it up and place my mouth on her skin.

“Shit,” I breathe out and drop my head, my eyes falling closed. I pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger. God, I need to get it together.

Inhaling a deep calming breath, I drop my hand and meet her gaze with more authority and confidence than I feel. “Look, I don’t know what the fuck that was. But I think we can both agree you don’t belong here—”

“I don’t agree with—”

“And the fact you hate beer makes this situation even worse.”

Her shoulders hitch upward a notch in indignation. “I don’t—”

I wave off her protest. “Don’t bother. I know the truth. Just understand this.” I shoot her a hard glare. “I’m not about to go easy on you just because you’re a woman or because you hate beer. I’m going to show you the ropes and teach you all about hops, but”—I stab my index finger at her—“it’s up to you to keep up and prove yourself.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” She salutes me like a smartass.

I roll my eyes and spin on my heel, desperate to get away from her and whatever freaky voodoo spell she cast over me minutes earlier. Three steps away and that much closer to rejoining the others, Callie calls out to me.

“Quick question, Reid.”

I pause but don’t turn around.

“You were tugging at my shirt because...?”

Callie is a lot of things, but dumb isn’t one of them. She knows exactly what I was planning to do, and hell will freeze over before I admit I lost control around her.

“You had lint on it. As a co-worker, we’re supposed to look out for each other.”

“Huh. Well, thanks.” She pauses before muttering under her breath, “Never knew you took lint violations so seriously.”

I head down the hallway, and every step I take, putting more distance between us, eases the strange tightness in my chest.

“Get ready to learn all about hops tomorrow, bright and early,” I toss out over my shoulder. And just as I’m turning the corner to exit the hallway, my lips begin to tilt up into a smile. Because I’ve managed to have the last word.

But it’s short-lived, dammit, when I hear the familiar female voice mutter in monotone, the sound of it trailing after me from within that hallway.

“Yay. Can’t wait. Just me and my very own Hops Police.”