With a small key from his pocket, he opens a drawer and gets out a remote, then points it at the air-conditioning to—thankfully—adjust the temperature. I spent damn near five minutes looking for that damn remote. Did he see me coming up and hid it on purpose so I’d freeze in here? He’s not that petty, is he? Nah. No way.
“Two hours ago, you were a giantasshole,” I retort.
“And that I will be for the next two hours. For the year. For the future.”
Maybe he really is that petty…
My sigh is rightfully dramatic. “Can we just, like, postpone this tiff for another time? Or cancel it altogether? I’m not mad at you anymore. And when I’m done being mad, I’m done being mad. I can’t force it. Right now, I just want to touch you…kiss you.”
“We’re in the office. I told you I’d be busy tonight.”
“That’s fine. Just being where you are is enough for me.”
When I get up and start heading to where he is, he gives me a firm shake of his head, halting me.
“Not yet,” he says. “You might not be mad anymore, but I still am. Give me some time.”
“You’remad?” An incredulous laugh leaves me. “What are you even mad about? All I did was stay by your side. We literally just got tattoos that tie us together. And you’re telling me that I was supposed to just leave you in the lurch?”
“Yes,” he replies, solid and clear. “There are times when you stand still in support, and there are times when you run. I want you toknowthat, Tillie. I want you to know when to stand still and when torun.”
“Jesus!” I throw my hands up in frustration. “Look, I’m not having this argument with you again. Just take whatever time you need to get over your snit so I can touch you again.”
I drop back down into the couch, cross my arms, and glare up at the ceiling.
~
FOR THE NEXThour, he’s in and out of the office, back and forth with Core Six. Each time he reenters the office, I part my legs a little wider to seduce him with an upskirt tease. But Saint is not an easy man to tempt. Any man who looks likethatand still manages to hold on to their virginity into their thirties, possesses a kind of will that’s more powerful than Thor’s hammer.
Barely acknowledging me or the pretty lace panties I donned just for him, he’s in major sulk mode.
And he thinksI’mthe one who needs to grow up?
I must’ve fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I know, I’m floating to consciousness on account of gentle fingers sweeping across my forehead. My eyes flutter open and connect directly with his.
He’s crouched by the sofa, watching me.
I arch with a light stretch. “Are you done being mad now?”
“You’reyou, Tillie Garza. I’m probably going to always be mad—in every sense of the word—where you’re concerned.”
“Bet you wish you could just let me sign a contract, a la Paloma and Sofia, huh?”
He snorts. “I doubt even a contract could get you to do as you’re told.”
“Can you stop punishing me and kiss me now, please?”
Strong, long fingers cradle my face, and then his lips are on mine.
It’s like a bomb, his kiss. Obliterating all feelings of irritation and indignance. Clean sweep. Leaving thick clouds of lust, swirling ashes of want, clinging soot of need.
“I want you,” I say against his lips.
There’s torment in his voice when he replies, “Regina...”
“Please,” I beg. “Just this last time. You already did it. What’s the harm now?”
“This morning…my intentions weren’t exactly…” He stares at my lips and clenches his jaw, as if wrestling his restraint. “I was deliberately selfish, Tillie. Manipulative.”
