“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Samantha said, her voice quiet. She stood in front of his desk, her head bowed, slim fingers tracing a pattern on the surface. “I thought you’d activate your body armor. It slows you down.”

He’d thought that was what she’d been up to. Taking his strength and turning it into a weakness showed an intelligence and cunning that was impressive. He remembered her remorse in the alley after it happened. She’d tried to make sure he was taken care of before she’d left.

She could’ve just left him there. Most street rats would have.

But he had the feeling Samantha wasn’t like most street rats.

“I tried to activate it,” he said, coming up behind her. “It didn’t work. I don’t know why. It worked later on. I’ll figure it out, but right now I’ve got other things on my mind.” Trey placed his hands on her shoulders and gently urged her around to face him. When she kept her head lowered, he tipped her chin up. Wide eyes met his. “I know you thought I wouldn’t be hurt, cher. I’m willing to chalk it up as an accident. But that doesn’t mean I don’t expect you to settle up.”

He barely caught her answering grin before he took her mouth, hard. He wanted explanations from her and knew he had a better chance of getting them if he kept her off balance. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and he groaned, pulling her into his arms.

The job had less to do with this than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t as concerned about getting answers as he was with getting…her. That was all he could think of. Sliding her under him, her legs wrapped around his hips, her hot cunt grasping his cock.

When he ended the kiss, his mouth moved to the sensitive skin of her throat. She gasped and clutched his back. Impatience rode him and he decided to forego getting his answers so he could move onto more important things.

Things that would result in him getting lost in the snug clasp of her body.

With an oath, he swung her into his arms and walked the few meters it took to reach his bed. He laid her down and settled on top of her. Nestling his groin in the notch of her thighs, he framed her face with his hands. The interview would wait. Right now, he had to get inside her.

“Tell me you want me, Samantha.” He claimed her mouth in a hard, bruising kiss, then almost immediately calmed, sipping from her lips with gentle nibbles. “Tell me you want this,” he murmured, and pressed his erection against the cleft of her body.

In response, she slipped her hands under his form-fitting shirt and traced the contours of his chest, stopping to rub her thumbs against his tight nipples. When he drew in a sharp breath, she smiled, a sultry curve of lips meant to be kissed, and kissed often. Her hands wandered around to his back and skimmed down his spine to slip under the waistband of his trousers, coming to rest on the curve of his ass.

“Are you sure you want this with me?” she whispered, her eyes searching his. “I’m nothing but a street rat, after all.”

He took her mouth again, gently this time, assuring her without words she was exactly where he wanted her to be. When he drew back, they were both breathing faster. “You’re so much more than a street rat, cher. Don’t you ever put yourself down to me. Comprends?”

She nodded. “I understand.” She brought her hands back up to his waist and he felt her take hold of the hem of his shirt. “I think you have on too many clothes for what you have in mind.”

He grinned, the relief almost as great as his lust. She wanted him.