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He could smell her perfume--a whiff of something citrusy--as she shook his hand, then sat across from him, giving him an unintentional shot of cleavage. His gaze had wandered to the spot, hoping for another glimpse. Nick's knee nudge reminded Caz of his manners, but by that time Caz was way beyond polite. He wanted more than the tease of perfume. He wanted to crawl under the table, shove up her little red skirt, and wedge his face in her crotch. Let her try to keep her composure under the onslaught of his tongue.
She allowed him momentary victory when she slid her gaze away from him and toward the table. Before he could bask in the glory, however, those dark blue eyes locked back on him, daring him to be the first to blink. A cattle prod up the ass would have had less impact. His balls felt the burn in her eyes, yet she had the nerve to sit there, calm and cool, as if nothing had passed between them.
Now she wouldn't look at him at all. He'd been "dismissed" as she outlined ideas and plans. Oh, she'd spare him a glance from time to time, but Caz knew it was more of an afterthought to ensure he wasn't "left out." Rage boiled inside him. More conflicting emotion warred inside his head.
One minute he wanted to grab the back of her neck and force her to look at him and him alone, see him as a man, her man, right before he plundered her mouth in a kiss her clit would feel. The next minute he wanted to step behind her, massage the tension from her shoulders, run his hands down her suit jacket, open those buttons, and cup the treasure guarded within. Her breasts would surge into his hands. He'd nibble her neck, tease the nipples, and show her a pleasure like noneshe'd known before.
He wanted her at his feet, then he found himself wanting to be at hers. Agony spawned a killer headache and threatened to split his cock in two. How in the hell was he supposed to survive working with this woman? He had to get back some measure of control, had to purge her from his system and his head, once and for all.