Defying Desire by A. C. Arthur

built and looked like he could possibly survive a round or two before Trent would eventually beat him down but Tia wasn’t willing to risk it. She’d defused the situation the best way she knew how. She agreed to talk to Trent alone. But the moment Carlo left, the familiar fear of Trent Donovan had risen, clogging her throat so that words were difficult to come. Her best defense was to run, in the most dignified way possible, of course.
    Damn him, he’d followed her. A small part of her knew that he would. Trent was not a man to give up when he wanted something. That was a fact she’d already learned about him.
    How foolish of her was it to go into the stairwell? The answer was resoundingly clear as she was now facing the wall, his hands around her waist, his lips on her neck. She could scream from wanting this man so badly. But it wouldn’t do her much good.

    Logic and past heartache told her to run, to forget appearances and get the hell out of Dodge. Yet something else held her still. A small part of her wanted his touch, his admission to wanting her easing an ache that had occupied her heart for much too long. But Trent wasn’t looking to touch her heart. He wanted her body. Another fact made perfectly clear by the thick erection pressing into her bottom.
    This she could do, Tia thought with relief. Unlike most women sex for her wasn’t a key to her heart. It was as natural and instinctive as breathing. She and Trent were attracted to each other and for once she’d agree that he was correct, there was no use in either of them trying to deny the obvious. So why not continue to sleep with him? As long as they kept it just sex. It would be nice to feel a warm body next to hers on the regular.
    “I know you’re not afraid of me, Tia,” he was saying, his large palms splaying over the exposed skin of her stomach.
    “No,” she whispered resting her forehead on the wall. “I’m not afraid of you, Trent.”
    “Then stop trying to run from me.” His words were punctuated by one hand slipping beneath the rim of her shorts and the other headed north to cup her already aching breast. Again he’d pressed the thick bulge of his arousal into her bottom as if he would enter her right now if not for the barrier of their clothing.
    That thought had Tia’s heart pounding, her mouth and center growing moist. She couldn’t run now even if she wanted to. As his palm moved farther south cupping her mound, she hissed and arched back into his arms.
    “It’s like instant fire between us. From that day on the runway when I simply touched your hand I’ve been craving you.”
    His voice was hoarse with desire, both his hands working their magic on her until the mere thought of defying this desire between them was out of the question.
    “I know,” she whispered, then licked her lips.
    Trent had been running his tongue alluringly over the line of her neck, but the moment she moistened her lips seemed like his open invitation. With a nudge of his shoulder her head was turning so that claiming her mouth was inevitable.
    And with lightning fast strokes his tongue entered her mouth, taking hers on an endless ride of passion, stoking this undeniable fire he’d mentioned between them.
    No, denying it was useless, so instead she fell right in line with Trent’s intentions, lifting a hand to cup the back of his head, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. That action earned a deep growl from Trent as his fingers splayed over her mound, one devious digit parting her moist lips, finding her tightened bud. Over and over the pad of his finger worked the puckered flesh until Tia’s knees were growing weak, her breath coming in quick, hot pants.
    “Trent,” she sighed when his mouth had moved from hers to nip at her chin.
    “I know, baby. I know,” he said stepping back far enough to turn her around to face him.
    It took ten seconds, maybe less for him to maneuver one of her legs out of her shorts. Simultaneously Tia’s hands were