Rules of Negotiation Read Online Free Page B

suffused her body as she pressed against him, opening her mouth and giving him room to play. Their tongues meshed, a delicate dance of exploration and wanting. Her body melted into his, hips, breasts, and legs all seeking further contact. As the kiss deepened, Tori’s knees began to tremble.
    Then, inexplicably, he pulled back.
    Brit touched her face with one large hand and then placed it at the top of her hip. They stood suspended, bodies touching, chests moving in rapid rhythm.
    “If we don’t go to dinner now, I’m not going to let you out of this room.”
    Flushed with pleasure, Tori dropped her eyes and reluctantly released the arms that had wound tightly around his neck. “I bet you say that to all the women who are negotiating million-dollar agreements with you.”
    She started to move away, struggling to regain her equanimity, but Brit stopped her, his hand tightening around her waist.
    “Let’s make a deal,” he said. “You don’t mention Technix for the rest of the night, and I’ll do the same.”
    “Why?” She cursed the slow reaction of her brain, still fogged with pleasure. Their bodies were too close; too close to think, too close to breathe.
    “Why? Because that’s not what tonight’s about.” He drew back, as if insulted by her question.
    Tori shook her head. “Look, I don’t normally go around having romantic encounters with the guy on the other side of a deal. I suppose I’d like to know why you’re doing this. It doesn’t seem like such an odd thing to ask.”
    “It’s quite simple,” he said, gazing intently down at her. “I want you.”
    Tori sucked in a breath as his casual pronouncement. She’d never been the subject of such blatant male intent. Her palms began to sweat.
    “And what makes you so sure I’m interested?”
    He ran a hand along the side of her waist, skimming her rib cage and almost, but not quite, touching the underside of her breast.
    “Call it instinct. My car is waiting outside. We don’t want to be late for our reservation.”
    …
     
    They stopped in front of the elevators, the air thick with tension. When the doors opened with a muted ding , Brit gestured for Tori to go first. As the doors closed behind them, she imagined Brit throwing her against the back wall, pulling her dress to her waist and taking her, right then and there. Warmth pooled between her legs. By the time they reached the ground floor, Tori could feel the tickle of sweat between her shoulder blades.
    Nothing in her life had prepared her for this moment. Panic and excitement mixed in equal parts. Clearly, she had stepped inside some other woman’s life. Some woman who had crazy one-night stands with gorgeous CEOs.
    Please, woman whose life I stole—can I keep it? For one night?
    After threading their way through the crowded lobby and a revolving door to the street beyond, Brit guided her past a line of waiting taxicabs to a sleek black Mercedes with dark tinted windows. A driver in a black suit nodded as he held open a door for Tori. The air had a rare bite for late June, and she gratefully slipped inside to a warm leather seat. Brit followed closely behind, and when he sat down, their legs touched from hip to thigh.
    She scooted to the side, needing a moment without his touch to clear her head. This relentless onslaught of sensuality had her head spinning. Either he was one of the best liars she’d ever met or he meant what he said.
    I want you.
    The very thought of those words, spoken so casually, sent a flare of heat through her body.
    He wanted her.
    Brit Bencher wanted her, Tori Anderson. A short, curvy, attorney who didn’t have a supermodel bone in her body. It was too much to be believed.
    The car was open between the front and the back, and when the driver sat down, relief flooded through her. Being alone with Brit right now was more than she could handle.
    “Have you spent much time in New York?” Brit asked, his deep voice filling the small space.
    “I assumed your