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your
     guard.”
    I turn to face him. He takes two quick strides and captures my mouth. His lips press
     against mine and a coil of heat unravels in my middle. A warm hand caresses the back
     of my head, gently drawing me closer.
    I open my mouth to protest and his tongue slips inside to spar with my own. The rush
     of blood pounding through my veins brings a tingly feeling that halts my words before
     they form. His wide open eyes stare into my own, challenging me with the heat I see
     simmering in their depths.
    His mouth tastes like fresh coffee heavily laced with cream. My knees weaken at the
     intensity and warmth pouring off him. He nibbles on my bottom lip and a spike of pleasure
     jolts down my spine, jarring me from the spell he’s weaving.
    I place two hands on his chest and push him away. Our lips break and a shudder runs
     through me. “What the hell was that?” My tone sounds indignant, but my body betrays
     me with arousal.
    Andy smiles, a slow, indulgent curve of his lips. His tongue slips out to run along
     his full mouth. “I think you know exactly what that was.” He boldly reaches out a
     hand and runs a finger over my right nipple, peaked hard and pressing against the
     inside of my bra.
    I swat his hand away.
    “It’s passion, Carla. Don’t fight it.”
    I take a step back, putting distance between us and regain my composure. “You do that
     again and I’ll report you.”
    Andy steps closer, crowding my space. “No, you won’t.”
    A sneer forms on my face. “Oh, really? And why wouldn’t I?”
    “Because I know what you need, darling. And I aim to give it to you.”
    His confidence and arrogance rocks me. This is a side of Andy I never knew existed.
     “Go pound salt, bastard.” I storm out of the copier room, wrapping my indignation
     around me like a cape. Andy’s amused chuckle follows me down the hall.
    Son of a bitch. I’ll be damned if I’m corralled into a torrid affair at work. No matter
     what my body tells me.
    Crap! I left the files in there. I’m not going back to get them until he leaves. Call
     me a chicken, but I’m not ready to face him again.
     
     
    It’s Wednesday, and I’ve done my best to avoid Andrew the past two days. When office
     emails went around about a drink after hours, I almost didn’t agree to go. I wasn’t
     sure if Andrew was going or how to handle him. The memory of his stolen kiss has haunted
     me.
    The lingering heat stirred from his bold advance left me tossing and turning in bed
     each night. Twice I tried to seek relief on my own, and twice I was left frustrated
     and horny. Damn him! I will not date a guy from work. It’s career suicide.
    I run a finger through the condensation on my wine glass and contemplate what to do.
     The energy in the crowded bar wraps around me in a familiar feeling—the hotspot is
     always packed. This time, I’m careful not to get drunk and don’t sit near Andrew.
     God, he’s like a puppy sniffing after me. I have no intention of winding up with him.
     I want an exciting man.
    And how do you know that man isn’t Andy?
    Because I won’t let it be, dammit! I know what I want and he’s not it. Temporary,
     hot sex is easier—and he seems to be gunning for more than I’m willing to offer.
    I grab my drink in anger, but wisely take only a sip. I have no desire to muddle my
     senses with Andrew staring at me across the bar. Why the hell does he like me anyway?
     I’ve stated I’m not interested. I’ve brought out my most bitchy self, and he still
     keeps coming.
    He needs to see me pick up another guy. That should wipe away that smug look I see
     every time I glance over at him. Thinks he’s got my number, does he? I’ll show him.
    Tall, broad shouldered, and beautiful walks into my field of vision. The big man looks
     vaguely familiar, so I smile.
    “Well hello, sweetheart. I remember you from last week.” He returns my interest with
     a crooked grin and looks around. He notes Andrew sitting a few