The Harder You Fall by Gena Showalter

absolutely perfect for her while also absolutely unexpected.
    Oh, she’d known he’d give her one sooner or later. He and his friends were old school and enjoyed renaming the women in their lives. Jase always called Brook Lynn “angel” and Beck called Harlow everything from “beauty” to “hag,” her initials. Well, HAG prewedding. But Jessie Kay had prepared herself for “demoness” or the always classic “bitch.”
    â€œDogs and cats can be friends,” he said, “especially when the dog minds his manners. I promise you, things will be different from now on.”
    â€œWell.” Reeling, she could come up with no witty reply. “We could try, I guess.”
    â€œGood.” His gaze dropped to her lips, heated a few more degrees. “Now all we have to do is decide what kind of friends we should be.”
    Her heart started kicking up a fuss again, breath abandoning her lungs. “What do you mean?”
    â€œText frequently? Call each other occasionally? Only speak when we’re with our other friends?” He backed her into a shelf and cans rattled, threatening to fall. “Or should we be friends with benefits?”
    Aaand the tingles returned, sweeping over her skin and sinking deep, deep into bone. Her entire body ached with need so powerful it nearly felled her. How long since a man had focused the full scope of his masculinity on her? Too long and never like this. West took everything to the next level. Somehow he reduced her to a quivering mess of femininity and whoremones.
    â€œI vote...we only speak when we’re with our other friends,” she said, embarrassed by the breathless tremor in her voice.
    â€œWhat if I want all of it?” He placed his hands at her temples and several of the cans rolled to the floor. “The texts, the calls...and the benefits.”
    â€œNo?” A question? Really? “No to the last.” Better. “You have a date.”
    He scowled at her as if she’d done something wrong. “See, that’s the real problem, kitten. I don’t want her. I want you.”
    * * *
    W EST CALLED HIMSELF a thousand kinds of fool. He’d planned to apologize, return to the sanctuary, witness his friend’s wedding and start the countdown with Monica. The moment he’d gotten Jessie Kay inside the closet, her pecans-and-cinnamon scent in his nose, those plans burned to ash. Only one thing mattered.
    Getting his hands on her.
    From day one, she’d been a vertical g-force too strong to deny, pulling, pulling, pulling him into a bottomless vortex. He’d fought it every minute of every day since meeting her, and he’d gotten nowhere fast. Why not give in? Stop the madness?
    Just once...
    â€œWe’ve been dancing around this for months,” he said. “I’m scum for picking here and now to hash this out with you, and I’ll care tomorrow. Right now, I think it’s time we did something about our feelings.”
    â€œI don’t...” She began to soften against him, only to snap to attention. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t.”
    â€œYou won’t. ” But I can change your mind...
    She nibbled on her bottom lip.
    Something he would kill to do. So he did it. He leaned into her, caught her bottom lip between his teeth and ran the plump morsel through. “Do you want me, Jessie Kay?”
    Her eyes closed for a moment, a shiver rocking her. “You say you’ll care tomorrow, so I’ll give you an answer then. As for today, I... I... I’m leaving.” But she made no effort to move away, and he knew. She did want him. As badly as he wanted her. “Yes. Leaving. Any moment now...”
    Acting without thought—purely on instinct—he placed his hands on her waist and pressed her against the hard line of his body. “I want you to stay. I want you, period.”
    â€œWest.” The new tremor in her voice