Stare Me Down (Stare Down) by Riley Murphy

expecting to be greeted by a confused and possibly pissed off woman, so when he saw Jaxx still hugging the door, he frowned. Come to think of it, she hadn’t answered him either. That wasn’t good.
    “Jaxx?”
    Not good was the perfect description of the intense expression on her face when she pushed off the door and came at him. Her slight frame crashing into him barely ruffled his shirt, but when he realized she was trying to be amorous, he had no choice. Fuck choice. He had no strength to deal, so he went with it. He fell back against the desk and pulled her with him. Which was a good thing, because she began climbing him.
    “Whoa, that’s skin.” He tried to get her attention before she drew blood. It was no use, though. She was too busy pulling at him. “If you—”
    Before he could get the rest of those words out, she latched onto his mouth. If he had to describe what she was doing to he’d say devouring it. Then after a moment he wasn’t thinking at all.
    Crisp lemon and hot ginger assaulted his senses. Warm silk and delicate satin wrapped around him. Her desire poured over him. The frantic pulls, desperate tugs and sweetly surrendered hug tempted him like he’d never been tempted before. Her fingers sank into his hair while she massaged his scalp. And when that didn’t seem good enough for her, she shifted and pressed into him tight, while her mouth sliced over his again and again. At one point he was afraid she might swallow his tongue. Damn, she was aggressive. Needy. Fucking spectacular as she ate on him.
    He didn’t even wince when she repositioned. Now her hands were braced against his chest, fingernails digging into his pecs as she shimmied all over him. That sexy little dance got him even harder, and that occurrence clearly had her curious. She flexed and felt the hardness with her hip. He could tell because she pressed against him twice before she angled a hand down to frantically find the outline of him with her palm. When she did, she closed her hand around him at the base and traveled in a series of graduating touchy-feely squeezes along his length. One, squeeze, two squeezes‌—‌she hesitated‌—‌three squeezes and when she went farther and reached the end of him, her whole body stiffened before she tore her lips from his, whispering, “I want to feel it again. Please.”
    At first he thought she was talking about the length of his cock, but then her meaning registered. “You want to get off again?”
    “Yes.”
    That groaned-out word almost got him coming. “Spread your legs around me.” He hauled her up higher until her knees bent against his hips. His hand had barely gotten beneath the hem of her skirt when she smacked his shoulder.
    “Oh. It’s not working.”
    “Not working?”
    “Don’t do it like that. Do it like…”
    He didn’t mean to. It was instinct when he speared a hand in her hair and sharply pulled back to gain her attention. No woman in his arms ever made demands or directed him to do things differently. “What?”
    “Mmm,” she purred, and he realized she’d gone languid with the hold he had on her. “Yeah, like that.”
    He tightened his grasp and sucked in air when he saw it. That fucking sexy tremble. He looked at his white knuckles buried in her hair, and adrenaline bolted through him. One last test to make sure he was right about this. He lifted, straightening his arm, which forced more painful tension on her skull.
    She closed her eyes and moaned in such a way it left not a doubt in his mind. The attraction was real. She wasn’t a vanilla doll. She was his kind of chick.
    He drank in every line of her face. Noticed every subtle nuance as she purred for more and that was bad news for him because he really couldn’t resist.
    She moaned again. Oh yeah, she liked it.
    Another moan.
    Screw just liking it. She loved this kind of attention. No wonder she hadn’t screamed bloody murder when he’d ambushed her earlier. “Jaxx.”
    Trill.
    Her eyes