Work For It (Naiad Novels Book 1)

Unlike the last time Daniel accompanied me back to my hotel room, I don’t let him touch me until we’re inside and the door is shut behind us.

All the way here, I twisted away every time he tried to reach for me. I didn’t even speak to him, just let him follow behind me and ask questions. It didn’t take him long to figure out what was happening and where we were going.

And when he did, he shut up.

Now, though, our coats are shed, and my back is to the wall as he corners me. There’s a question in his eyes. He wants to know if he’s allowed to touch me yet. When I nod, he doesn’t waste time closing the distance and pulling me against him.

“I didn’t think we’d ever make it here,” he rasps as his hands greedily roam over my waist and hips, like he’s truly been dying to touch me and yet resisting the urge. “Now I can apologize to you properly.”

The way he seems intent on caressing every inch of me is flattering as fuck, especially because keeping my hands off him during our walk here was excruciating. And it was obvious he felt the same based on how many times he tried to grip my elbow or snag the sleeve of my coat to keep me close. I’m clearly not alone in this strange attraction.

But before this can go further, there are still questions that need answers.

“Wait,” I say, splaying my palms on his chest to push him back a little. “I need to know what we’re doing.”

His heated gaze flicks over me, taking away the last bit of chill from our walk. As nice as it is, it’s not enough to distract me from the discussion we need to have. “About to get you out of those clothes, I hope.”

“That’s not what I—” I take a deep breath to level myself. A snarky comment isn’t going to help us any. “I mean, what is this? I want to get that straight. Is this another one-time thing? Or is this going to be some sort of…friends with benefits situation?”

“We’re not friends, so it’s not that.”

He’s right, and had he been the one to ask me the question I would have replied with the same thing, but I’m not interested in sparring right now. “Daniel, come on, I just—”

“Hey.” He brushes my fingers from his chest and steps forward, cupping my face in his hands, all pretenses dropped. “It’s whatever you want it to be. Like I said, all of this is your choice. Do you want to sleep with me again?”

“Yes.” I wouldn’t have let him follow me back here if I didn’t.

“And you want to keep this casual?”

The answer should be obvious, but I respond anyway. “Considering we don’t really like each other, I don’t think there’s any other option here.”

He huffs out a laugh and drops his hands from my face. “I guess not.”

“And this has to stay between us,” I remind him, squeezing his bicep to emphasize my point. “I know Naiad is pretty relaxed about most rules, but I don’t think they’ve ever had employees get involved like…this.”

“I won’t tell anyone at the office.”

“They all know I hate you, so I doubt they’d believe you if you did,” I point out, a saving grace in this situation.

He makes a disappointed sound and shakes his head. “Come on, Selene, I just said you were smart. Don’t prove me wrong so quickly.”

I frown and drop my hands to my sides, taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“What was the most popular trope on the app last month?” he asks.

“Enemies to lovers,” I answer without missing a beat. “What does that—” I cut short, the relevance of it dawning on me before I scoff. “That’s fiction.”

He presses closer, letting me feel every inch of him. And God—there’s so much. “Then what do you call this?”

“Enemies fucking.” I shoot him a warning look. “Don’t try to compare us to a romance novel.” Don’t make this about work.

He chuckles and dips low to brush his lips over my racing pulse point. “Should we call this pure erotica, then?”

My eyes flutter shut at the way his words, combined with his touch, flood me with desire. “That seems like a safer bet.”

He’s kissing me hard a moment later to seal our agreement, and it’s a weight off my shoulders that we’re on the same page about this. It’s clear we’re compatible physically, that we’re drawn to one another, even if there’s no emotional aspect to it. No, that’s a lie, there is an emotional aspect—but that emotion is animosity, and I’m perfectly fine with that kind of attachment.

Daniel takes a step back, pulling me with him. I follow willingly, desperate to keep my mouth pressed to his, but that connection disappears as he shifts us. I tumble onto the mattress when the backs of my knees hit the bed, and I’m left a little winded. By the force of his movements and the fire in his eyes, I know this won’t be a gentle encounter. And I can’t wait. How many days can I expect the bruises to last this time?

He makes quick work of pulling off my boots and tossing them to the floor. Eagerly, I help him out by unbuttoning my jeans and peeling them down my hips. He takes over then and drags them the rest of the way over my legs. The mattress dips as he kneels on it and pushes my knees apart to inspect the snaps of my bodysuit. His gaze drags up to mine for a moment, his expression full of dismay.

“Always something complicated,” he murmurs, two fingers dipping under the fabric, between the snaps and my sheer panties. With surprising ease, the snaps come undone with satisfying pops.

“Complicated, maybe, but you know what you’re doing.” That’s as close to a compliment as he’ll get from me.

I sit up and pull the bodysuit off over my head, then let it float to the ground before taking his face in my hands and forcing his lips back to mine. He sweeps his tongue over mine, hot and pressing, but he pulls away a moment later, splaying a hand above my breasts to keep me back.

“Selene,” he says, teasingly scandalized, giving me a very thorough once-over. “Did you wear this just for me?”

I peer down at my body, remembering the black lingerie and the roaring tigers. “I don’t do anything just for you.”

“Of course not.” The words are condescending, like always, and yet they send a thrill through me.

After one more long look of admiration, my lingerie joins the rest of my clothes on the floor, and soon, all of his top the pile. I run my hands over his shoulders and down his chest and abs until I’m gripping his cock. When he groans in response, I can’t hold back my grin.

“I thought you said I’d have to work for it.” He’s breathless, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

Sliding my hand slowly up and down his length, I say, “You are.”

I let go abruptly and push him onto his back while he’s distracted. Without hesitation, I snag the condom he set on the bedside table and rip it open, then pinch the tip and roll it down his thick erection. He’s hot and heavy in my hand, and I’m wet from the anticipation alone—and our verbal brawl. But I have one caveat for tonight.

“You don’t get to come until I do,” I say. “Twice.”

He grips my hips as I straddle him and hover just above his cock. “I’d never dream of it,” he breathes out, drinking in every inch of my body. “Take what you want.”

So I do.

I sink onto him, slow and steady, remembering just how much I have to take. The ache between my legs is all-consuming, and it only grows as he fills me completely, inch by solid inch. I take a moment to focus on where we’re joined, blown away by how well we fit together, even though I’m stretched near to breaking.

“You just going to stare, mi amor?” Daniel asks with a note of amusement in his voice. The endearment is once again dripping with condescension. “Or are you going to use me?”

I exhale a shuddering breath, still adjusting to the feel of him. “Shut up.”

To emphasize the words, I drag my nails down his chest, savoring the sensation of his muscles tensing under my touch. It’s only then that I move. In a slow rhythm, I lift my hips just enough to create that delicious friction before lowering back down. The low, throaty sound of pleasure he makes only spurs me on. I want to hear it again—over and over.

But this isn’t about him. It’s about me taking what I want, just like he told me to.

I brace my hands on his solid pecs as I ride him, letting my eyes fall shut as I lose myself. His hands roam over my ass, squeezing and caressing, while he murmurs words I can’t quite make out. I don’t bother trying to. I don’t care what he has to say.

I can’t remember the last time I felt this free, this unobstructed by the worries that usually hold me back from crawling into bed with a man. With him, I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not. He knows I’m not fragile and doe-eyed; he’s seen the wildfire that burns in me and isn’t turned off by it. It’s the perk of fucking a man who knows I don’t like him on a deeper level, or even at all. I’m attracted to him physically, attracted to the chemistry between us, but it’s nothing more than that.

I open my eyes when he moves his hips beneath me, attempting to meet me thrust for thrust, to get more out of this than I’ve allowed. “Don’t you dare,” I pant, halting my movements and pinning him down. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

When I circle my hips, seeking a new, deeper angle, Daniel hisses and throws his head back into the pillow.

“Selene,” he murmurs, his voice strained as his fingertips dig into my thighs. “You keep doing that, and I won’t last.”

I tip forward until we’re nose to nose and plant my hands on either side of his head, keeping up my steady rhythm. “You better. I’m not there yet.”

But I’m close, so close. When he slides his fingers into my hair and wraps the dark strands around his fist, he pushes me so close to the precipice I’m teetering on the edge of. I move in quick, short movements, grinding against him, overwhelmed by the friction on my clit.

I lower my mouth to his and kiss him hard, muffling my moan. He takes that opportunity to tangle his tongue with mine, desperately, like we could consume each other. It’s wet and messy and nothing short of glorious. I’m like a ticking time bomb about to explode, and when he groans against my lips, that same needy sound that I wanted more of, I let go and let the flames consume me. And I burn all the way down.

Vaguely, I hear myself exhale his name as I ride the wave, slumped against his chest. I’m still pulsing around him when he sits up and bands one arm around my waist. Then he throws me down on my back and drives into me hard.

“My turn,” he says, hooking my legs over his shoulders.

There’s no mercy in his thrusts. This is payback. It hurts in the best way possible, but I don’t want gentle. Not from him. This is nothing but hate and revenge. I arch my back and take it.

I’m building up again, this second wave coming from somewhere deeper. The need is less sharp, less keening, but no less exquisite, and I can’t help the loud moans that leave my lips in response to it. If the neighbors complain, I won’t be surprised.

In hopes of warding it off, and, if I’m lucky, making this more difficult for Daniel, I tense beneath him. But he doesn’t ease up. If anything, he drives into me harder, pushing my knees to my chest and hitting the place that makes me beg for release. But I can’t. Because that feels like giving in to him. And I refuse to lose to this man.

As if he knows what I’m doing, he nips at my earlobe. “Don’t be stubborn, Selene,” he murmurs, his breath hot on my skin. “Let go.”

I turn my face away, unwilling to acquiesce. He doesn’t get to tell me what to do. This is my night. I’m here to take what I want, not to sit back and let him give it to me.

More breathless words—about how difficult I am, how I should give up, give in—spill from his lips. Then his hand is between us, pressing on my belly as his thumb finds my clit. It’s torture in its purest form.

“Let go, baby.”

Those words, and the intimacy behind them, catch me off guard. They’re a plea. A command I can’t defy.

And with that, I lose all control. The world explodes behind my eyes, then slowly knits back together. The ability to breathe, to speak, to think, is lost to me as I clench around him. In response, his hips stutter one last time, and his cock pulses, but I’m so lost in the high that his words barely register—a whisper of what a good girl I am. The moment is magnificent, even if it is a loss.

But if this is what losing to Daniel feels like, I don’t mind doing it over and over and over again.