Home > Redesigned (Off the Subject #2)(23)

Redesigned (Off the Subject #2)(23)
Author: Denise Grover Swank

He clears his throat, keeping his eyes on the street. “Most people would ask you what’s wrong or what happened to make you react this way, but you and I hardly know one another, and after some of our recent interactions, it seems presumptuous to ask.” He shifts his weight. “When you’re ready to join Lexi and Ms. Marshall, we’ll go. Until then, I’ll wait with you.”

His voice is gentle, and I’m grateful he doesn’t pry. I wondered how I would explain if he asked about my reaction, so now I’m off the hook. But for some reason, I’m worried about what he thinks.

Why I’m worried what Reed Pendergraft thinks is beyond me.

After a minute of convincing myself that the past really is locked behind me, I stand, grateful I’m now steady on my feet. “I’m ready.”

He nods and opens the front door. I stop in the doorway and look up into his face, prepared to thank him. But instead, my breath catches, and my heart begins to race. His eyes are a rich shade of dark chocolate. My gaze lowers to the curve of his jaw and then over to his mouth. I resist the urge to reach up and run my finger along his bottom lip, no matter how tempting it is. His dress shirt stretches across his broad shoulders and for a brief second I wonder what he looks like underneath his clothes.

I’m lost in my daze, but somewhere in the back of my head, something tells me that touching him would be a bad idea. I just can’t remember why.

His mouth parts as his breath shallows. I find myself leaning closer to him before I get a grip.

Then I remember why caressing Reed Pendergraft’s lips is a bad idea. He’s an asshole.

This man makes me look like a fool for sport.

I take a step back. “Good try with the nice-guy routine.”

Annoyance flickers in his eyes, and his jaw hardens. “Are you going to ogle me all day or can we rejoin the others?”

I walk past him into the hallway, grateful for the rush of anger that replaces the lust, despite the fact that my nerve endings are on fire. “Ogle you? Don’t let your fantasies slip into reality, Reed.”

“Fantasies? You think I’d fantasize about you?”

I refuse to physically react to his putdown even if it stings and reminds me of last Friday night. I try to get away, but he blocks my path, his eyes blazing.

My hormones kick into high gear, sending a fresh wave of lust through my blood, even stronger than before. “You shouldn’t make it so obvious, Reed.” I taunt him.

He moves closer, forcing me to step backward toward the wall, anger burning in his eyes.

“We both know you want me.” My voice is husky and sounds foreign to my ears. I’ve never so wantonly tried to seduce a man before. Good southern girls aren’t the seducers. They’re the seducees.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Caroline.” But he moves closer, his voice lowering.

I’m not sure why I’m tormenting him this way. The truth is I’m tormenting myself just as much if not more. My back is pressed against the wall, a picture frame digging into my shoulder blade, but I stare up into his eyes, wanting him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.

His hands are on the wall on either side of me, and he leans closer, his mouth inches from mine.

He’s agonizingly close, and I wonder if he’s planning to tease me again like our near-kiss on the dance floor. But just when I’m sure he’s about to pull away, he groans and his mouth captures mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my chest to his, opening my mouth to his demanding tongue.

His hands reach around my back and pull me away from the wall, splaying across my shoulder blades, tugging me tighter to him. My knees weaken, but Reed holds me close as one of his hands moves up into my hair, tilting my head to give him better access.

Just as abruptly, his head rises, his eyes burning with raw desire. Then horror slides across his face, and he drops his hold.

Without his arms holding me up, I’m not sure my legs can support me. I step back into the wall while I catch my breath and try to figure out what the hell happened.

I have never lost control like this, not even with my ex-boyfriend Justin. And I dated him for over two years.

“That was … wrong.” Reed finally says. Thankfully, he looks as shell-shocked as I feel.

“Yes, very wrong.” It’s wrong to detest someone so much yet want to do him right here in a public hallway.

“We can’t let this happen again.” But he looks like he’s trying to convince himself more than me.

“No. We can’t ... do that again.” But mostly because I don’t trust myself with him. Obviously this man not only makes me lose my temper, but also makes me want to lose my panties. “We need to find Lexi.”

Hearing his sister’s name changes his entire demeanor. His lust evaporates and anxiety and irritation replace it. “Yes, we do need to find Lexi. I’ve wasted too much time as it is.”

There’s the man I’ve learned to loathe. “Did you seriously call what we just did ‘wasting time?’”

He straightens his tie. “Clearly nothing productive came of it, thus it could be considered a waste of time.”

It takes every ounce of strength within me not to kick him. “Don’t worry, Mr. Pendergraft . I won’t be wasting your time again.”

His stern expression wavers. “Good.”

I stomp down the hall to the back door, my heels clacking so hard against the wood floor I’m surprised I don’t dent the floorboards.

   
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