Siren Song by A. C. Warneke

solid wall of his chest was not quite touching her breasts and she never knew torment could be so pleasurable.
    “ You want me,” she breathed, as he foolishly kept closing the distance between them. He was so close his breath fanned over her face and she could smell the woods at midnight; she could feel the latent strength of his body as it almost touched hers.
    “ That was before you worked for me,” he whispered. Tentatively, he reached up with his hand, touching her cheek with the tips of his fingers. Her eyes started to roll back before she caught herself and forced her eyes to remain open. “But, Lexi, this can’t happen.”
    “ It’s just sex,” she whispered bluntly. She knew she was going to burn because the fire was too pretty and she wanted to touch.
    He laughed without humor, his fingers trailing to her jaw as he continued to caress her without seeming to realize he was touching her. “Somehow I doubt that it would be just sex between us and I cannot offer anything more.”
    She swallowed as his fingers moved across her skin, her throat, threatening to dip into her shirt. His eyes focused on his hand as he came dangerously close to her cleavage where she wanted him to touch her, to make him burn like she burned. “If it can’t happen then why are you still here, torturing me with what I can’t have?”
    “ Hmmm?” he murmured, lost in his own sensual haze. He lifted his gaze, “What?”
    “ You keep telling me that we can’t but you are destroying me with your touch,” she said softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Couldn’t you break your rules for one afternoon, maybe lose yourself in my body for a few hours and then forget me?”
    “ I can’t forget you,” he said, his hand moving over her skin to the side of her breast, his thumb separating from his fingers and brushing over her taut nipple. He looked down and she knew he would see that her nipples were hard, aroused. When he looked up again, he bent his head forward, his mouth so close to hers but not touching, not taking. And when he spoke, his air entered her, sliding in with effortless ease, “God knows I’ve tried but I can’t.”
    “ Is there someone else? Maybe the red head?” she asked, feeling her breath mingling with his, mating. His pull was too strong and she wanted to experience this overwhelming lust until she bled
    “ I told you I’m not seeing anyone.” He shook his head in denial, moving his head in imitation of kissing her, but not kissing her. He took the final step, closing the distance between their bodies, pressing his hard muscled body against hers until she could feel the thickness of his erection against her stomach. Pressing his arousal against her, he whispered, “But that doesn’t change anything; we cannot give in to this madness.”
    “ Yes, we can but you’re being stubborn,” she whispered, her eyes dropping to his lips, wondering why they weren’t connected to hers. Her eyes closed as his breath heated her skin and she waited for him to finish, to begin. The scent of coffee washed over her skin, teasing her, tempting her. Making her want, making her yearn, for everything.
    And then there was nothing. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw him looking at her, a strained expression on his all-too-handsome face. His nostrils flared as he took deep breaths, a tic working in his jaw as he held himself apart from her. Tilting her head to the side, mystified, she asked, “What is it?”
    His brows furrowed together as he swallowed, the movement of his throat emphasizing his golden skin. He shook his head as he dragged his fingers through his hair. His silver eyes were tortured as he looked at her with a hint of desperation, “I have to resist you, Lexi, otherwise I am no better than an animal, a wild beast.”
    "What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked as he continued to look at her, anger and confusion and lust warring in his silver eyes. Her eyes narrowed as he straightened his tie,