“Fine.”

She kept her gaze averted for the rest of the ride, counting down the miles and praying she hadn’t made a huge mistake.

He shouldn’t have mentioned the kiss.

Tristan drove and tried to ignore the screaming silence between them. He’d sworn to push the encounter out of his mind, chalking it up to impulse, fear, and curiosity about the past. But he’d never expected such an intense reaction, from either of them. It was as if the kiss was bigger than them, swallowing good intentions and reminding him of all the wonderful things Sydney had brought to his life. Besides the most powerful physical chemistry he’d ever experienced with a woman, there was an emotional connection bridged from their shared memories. They knew each other. Had experienced great love and great pain. She was the only one who’d stripped down all of his layers and truly seen the man he was.

And she’d loved him anyway.

Though, she ended up betraying him.

Once she’d turned nineteen, he began to lose the battle not to touch her. They worked together for almost a year while he fought his body with a crazed intention. But eventually, it was too much for either of them. She used every opportunity to get close and tortured him with sweeping generalizations about her dates with other men, hinting at physical intimacy. Her eyes told him she wanted him if only he had the balls to ask. To seduce. To take.

The lines had blurred, until he walked around with a constant erection and woke from lustful dreams of her naked in his bed. He was slowly being driven insane, until that one late night in the office pushed them both over the edge.

“I hate this software system,” he grumbled, banging on the keyboard as columns of numbers flashed in front of him. “It sucks. Why did we have to upgrade?”

“Because it’s better, and once we’re trained, it’ll be worth it.”

Her calm dismissal of his grumpiness only irritated him further. Her outfit was driving him nuts. Weren’t redheads supposed to stay away from pink? Well, she’d broken that damn rule. The hot-pink little suit barely covered her curves, and the conservative white blouse only emphasized the illegal length of her skirt. Her hair was loose today, and extra wild, as if teasing him to try to tame the strands.

To try to tame her.

He told himself to focus, but he was really directing the order at his dick.

“It’s not calculating the supply orders properly. I don’t have time for this, Syd.”

“Here, let me show you.” Her scent whispered behind him, tantalizing. She leaned over behind his chair, her breath rushing against his ear, the full curve of her breast pressing into his shoulder. “You need to hit the equal button and make sure you highlight this column. Then drag it over. See?”

Her scarlet-tipped nails clicked deftly over the keys. His muscles tensed as her hair brushed his cheek. Both her arms stretched forward, caging in his body.

He bit back a tortured groan. Slowly she withdrew and placed her soft hands on his biceps. Then squeezed.

He stilled. Dragged in a breath. And waited for her to move away.

She didn’t.

“Tristan?”

His name on her lips was a question that burned with need. Smothering a vicious curse, head pounding with desire, he swiveled his chair around to look at her. His dick strained against his pants at the naked want gleaming in her green eyes.

“Be sure you know what you’re doing, Syd.” His body craved to pull her into his arms and show her every pleasure a man could bring. “I don’t fool around with little girls.”

She surprised him with her boldness. Though her hands shook, she slid onto his lap, looping her arms around his neck. Her touch burned through his shirt. He could practically smell her arousal, her nipples straining against her blouse, begging for his mouth. “I’m not a little girl anymore, Tristan.” Her voice was full of smoke and sex, leaving innocence behind. “I know things you don’t think I do.”

The rage that shook through him at the idea of her being with some clumsy boy egged him on. He growled and twisted his fingers in her hair, tugging back her head. Her pupils dilated with arousal, no fear reflected on her face. “I don’t like a tease, either.” He gave in to the need to taste her, bending to swipe his tongue down the exposed curve of her neck. She shuddered. “Are you a virgin?”

Color flooded her cheeks. He was ready to stop right then and there, but she arched toward him, gaze fastened on his. “Yes. I’ve been waiting for you.”

He closed his eyes, fighting for control. His ego screamed with satisfaction that he’d be her first, that he’d be carved in her memory for the rest of her life, that he could make it so good for her, she’d never forget him. “Be sure,” he said again. “Your virginity is a gift, Syd. I don’t intend to screw with it.”

“I know exactly what I want, Tristan Pierce.” She looked him straight in the eye with resolve and a raw ache that ripped at his heart. “I want you.”

He didn’t need any more convincing. Keeping her head still, he took her lips with his and drowned in pure sweetness and exotic spice. He devoured her with a hunger he’d never experienced before. She burned up in his arms, her skin blistering hot, her mouth and tongue and lips giving back to him with both inexperience and eagerness. The kiss became an explosion of hidden wants he never even knew he had, and Tristan feasted on her body without regret or apology.

His fingers dove under her tight little skirt, brushing against the lace of her panties, savoring the sopping wetness he found there. She jerked in his arms, eyes wide open in pure surprise. “You like that?” he murmured, moving his thumb to rub softly against her clit. She writhed in questing need, grinding her sweet pussy against his thumb, trying to get there. He refused to take her virginity tonight. Sydney didn’t deserve a quickie on the office chair, but God, his entire body pulsed with a raw ache that desperately needed fulfillment. “Answer me, baby.”

Her face turned red, but she gave him what he needed. “Yes. Oh, I need—more—”

“I know. Let me play a bit. Show you how good I can make you feel.” His index finger slipped under the elastic at the same time that he opened the top buttons on her shirt to reveal her breasts. Clad in delicate white lace, she was a vision in front of him, and he wondered if he was going to come in his pants like a kid. He closed his mouth around one stiff nipple and sucked her through the lace while his finger traced the swollen folds of her sex, ramping up her need. She writhed in his lap, dragging her thigh against his erection, caught in the pleasure only he could give her. Mesmerized by each expression flickering over her face, he pushed his finger inside her tight channel, groaning at the way she tightened around him.