“Stop fidgeting,” he commanded.

I turned my head to look at him, arching an eyebrow.

“You’re all sleek in your pressed suit,” I pointed out, “and I’m doing the walk of shame in no makeup and men’s clothes.”

He was taking me home before he headed into the office. Christian was due back later today, and although he’d told me I could sleep in and he’d have Patrick drive me home later, I didn’t feel right about being there without him. I’d wanted to go home last night, but he’d talked me into staying again.

Today, though, I had work to catch up on, and he had a company to get back to now that the rain had subsided.

He smiled over at me and reached up, pushing the button to raise the privacy glass between Patrick and us.

“You’re stunning,” he said in all seriousness, giving me that look of his that made me hot. “And you shouldn’t be embarrassed. I’m lucky people can’t see the scratch marks on my back,” he joked.

It made me laugh as an image of the marks on his back in the shower this morning flashed through my mind.

Butterflies fluttered through my chest, and I released the breath I’d been holding. Maybe that was the ticket. Picture him naked, and he wasn’t so formidable.

“If you’d like,” he started in his smooth voice, “I can offer you an opportunity to rebuild your self-esteem.”

I cocked my head, peering over at him. “Oh?”

He nodded. “I’m hosting a luncheon at the house this Sunday, and I want you there,” he stated, and then blinked. “I would like you there,” he corrected, as if remembering he wasn’t addressing an employee.

I shook my head, even as a grin escaped. The gesture thrilled me, though I would never admit it to him. I looked back out the window, lifting my chin.

It didn’t unnerve me that he wanted to see more of me. But it did unnerve me that I liked that he wanted to see more of me.

But at his house? During the day, with other people there? If I were social – which I wasn’t – it would still be awkward. And make what we were doing even less tactful.

“Tyler, we can’t —”

“Not together,” he interrupted, reassuring me. “But I like to see you and not be able to touch you. It adds to the fun.”

When I turned toward him, expecting to see a mischievous smile, instead I saw a serious, even expression that made me rethink my smart-ass comeback. His eyes were pinned to mine, and I turned forward again, taking a deep breath and resisting the urge to crawl into his lap.

I cleared my throat. “What kind of luncheon is it?”

“Networking,” he answered. “The city elite, a few politicians…” He trailed off, sounding bored. “Christian will be there.”

“Thanks.” I shook my head. “But I think —”

He cut me off. “You can bring a friend, if you like. Or your brother?”

I sat up straight, steeling my jaw.

I didn’t want to decline the invitation, but I knew I had to. Even if we weren’t romantically involved, it was a conflict of interest to attend parties at a student’s home.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” he teased. “I’m sure you can handle the company.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.

“I’m not nervous,” I argued, turning my head to regard him again. “And I know what you’re trying to do.”

He thought I couldn’t handle myself around his crowd. I’d played tennis with movie stars in the stands.

The car slowed to a stop, and I glanced outside to see that we had arrived in front of my house. Leaves and fronds from a few palm trees in the neighborhood littered the ground, but the rest of the house seemed to be fine, despite my lack of shutters. The ground was still wet, the light sprinkle still falling rippling the puddles that had accumulated on the ground.

I picked up my blouse from next to me on the seat and moved to get out, but he caught my arms, stopping me gently.

“Noon,” he said softly, not really demanding but not really asking, either. “I’ll leave you alone the rest of the week, so we can both get some work done,” he explained, taking his hand away and sitting back, “but if you’re not there, I’ll come to get you myself.”

Despite my best intentions, I smirked, rising to his challenge. Then I leaned over the console and placed an innocent kiss on his cheek.

Whispering against his skin, I teased, “I love it when you play predator. It’s so cute.”

But then I yelped when he grabbed me under the arms and dragged me over to his lap, wrapping his arms around me and cutting off my breath with a kiss as he held me tight.

I moaned, but I couldn’t fight. His tongue swirled with mine and his hand slipped up my thigh, grabbing my ass cheek.

His lips moved over mine, eating me up and sending me reeling. My head spun, and I wanted him again.

And if what I could feel poking into my behind was any indication, he wanted me, too.

Tyler and I were one and the same. Both of us hated to be handled.

Until now.

I liked his dominance, and I think he liked mine.

He pulled away, and I felt like the air had been ripped out of my lungs.

He placed his hands on his armrest and breathed hard.

“Now get out of here,” he ordered, his tone turning clipped. “And if you don’t show on Sunday, I’ll never do that again.”

Arrogant, confident, son of a…

I hopped off his lap and pounded on the window for Patrick to let me out. I didn’t have to turn around to know that Marek was smiling.

And when Patrick opened the door, I stepped out, not once turning around for Tyler to see my grin.

Once I’d stepped inside the house, I heard his car pull away, and I closed the door, slipping off my flats.

Catching myself in the large square mirror on the wall perpendicular to the door, I took in my appearance, feeling completely disheveled but not out of sorts. My deep brown hair was clean, but it was a little frizzy, since it hadn’t been blow-dried properly, curled, straightened, or styled in any way. I always thought I looked bland without makeup, but my skin was glowing, and there was a natural blush across my cheeks that I’d never seemed to have before.

The top two buttons of his shirt were open, and I wasn’t wearing a bra, so I could feel the smooth, soft fabric against my sensitive skin. Everything touched me like it was a new feeling. Like my skin had come alive, tingling with frenzy.

I pulled the collar over my nose and inhaled, the smell of a spice, wood, and leather filling my chest.

Twisting around, I hit all the locks on the door and then rounded the entryway into the living room.

I stopped, spotting my brother sprawled out on the couch.

“Jack?” I called, walking up to the couch.

He shifted, lying there in his jeans with no T-shirt as his eyes slowly blinked awake. I looked over at the clock, seeing it was still only six oh four. He must’ve been here overnight.

“What are you doing here?” I rounded the couch to stand next to him.

He opened his eyes and focused on me. “Easton, what the hell?” he grumbled.

Sitting up, he planted his feet on the ground and hunched over, putting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his eyes.

“Did you just get in?” he asked, peering up at me with worried eyes.

I tossed my blouse on the chair off to the side. “Yeah. What are you doing here?” I asked again.

He yawned. “The power went out in my neighborhood yesterday, so I let myself in,” he explained, raising his arms above his head to stretch. “You have cable, so…”

I exhaled a laugh and leaned down to start tossing his soda cans and napkins inside the empty pizza box. I never cleaned up after him, but I was in a good mood this morning.

“Where were you?” he pressed again. “I texted.”

I picked up the pizza box full of his garbage and shoved it to his chest. “I was out,” I answered.

He cocked an eyebrow and set the box aside. His eyes fell down my clothes, and he reached up, rubbing the hem of my shirt between his fingers.