“What would I find if I slid my fingers into your panties right now?”

Her mouth went dry, and the insistent throb between her legs became a frantic drumbeat.

“Why don’t you find out?”

He fisted a hand in her hair, dragging her head back. He leaned in closer until their lips were a breath apart. “That fucking mouth, Remi.”

She let out a tiny, ridiculous whimper.

Oh, God. This wasn’t happening. This was one of those fantasies. One of those dreams she’d wake up from and realize Brick Callan was never going to touch her the way she wanted him to.

“Would you be wet?” His whisper was harsh, making her nipples tighten. “And if you were, would it be for me? Or someone else?”

Her eyelids were too heavy to stay open. She felt drugged and dreamlike, being held like this by him.

“These are the questions I ask myself every fucking day. I can’t concentrate when you’re around. When I know you’re just across the street. Just across the dinner table. Just across the bar.”

Her entire body was trembling against his. She needed him. Needed more than what he was willing to give her.

“Every day, you lure me a little closer. And one day, I’m not going to be strong enough to step back.”

“Then stop stepping back.”

One of his fingers toyed with the zipper of her jeans. Brushing lightly over it.

“There are rules, Remi.”

“I’m not a teenager. I’m not dating your little brother. You’re not married.”

“Your mother is my boss.”

“You want my mom’s okay before you’ll stick your dick in me? We’re both adults, Brick. We don’t need a permission slip!”

His hand abandoned her zipper and coasted up her sweater to rest just under her breast. Her nipple strained against the confines of her bra, needing his touch. She was shaking again. But this time, it wasn’t from fear.

“I don’t want to know what you feel like from the inside if you’re just going to pack up and leave. I don’t want to watch you walk away knowing what you taste like between those fucking thighs. I don’t want to say good-bye to you knowing what my come looks like spread over your perfect goddamn tits.”

Her knees gave out on her right then and there. But she didn’t fall. Because once again, Brick Callan caught her.

“How the hell should I know if or when I’m leaving? And why does that give you the right to torture me?”

“You aren’t hearing me, Remi. If I got anywhere near that sweet pussy of yours, I would punish you for making me wait so damn long. I’d discipline you for wanting to leave me. You’re safer if I never touch you. And so am I.”

As he said the words, his cock flexed between them.

She was shaking now. He’d put voice to it. Her deepest, darkest desire. He wanted to dominate her. The thought of it, the thought of that big, hard man bending her over and…