This Man by Jodi Ellen Malpas

says simply.
    I yank my wrist from his grip, backing up until my butt hits the wall behind me.
    ‘Because you want to hear how loud I’ll scream?’
    ‘No!’
    ‘You are, undeniably, the most arrogant arsehole I’ve ever met. I’m not interested in becoming a sexual conquest.’
    ‘Conquest?’ he snorts, turning away and commencing pointless pacing. ‘What fucking planet are you on, woman?’
    I stand there in utter shock. How dare he come here and start shouting the odds at me. I feel my unease disappear and my earlier irritation convert into boiling rage.
    The urgent need to defend myself, to put him straight, has my jaw clenched to aching point. His opinion of me is very low if he thinks I’ll just jump into bed with any man I meet. But then, I don’t have to answer to him. The fact that he has a girlfriend is immaterial at this point. He thinks he can just take what he wants or throw a wobbly if he meets some resistance.
    ‘Get out!’
    He stops pacing and looks at me. ‘No!’
    he yells, recommencing his marching.
    I start thinking of how to get him out of the house. I’m never going to be able to manhandle him and touching him would be a massive mistake. ‘I’m not fucking interested! Now, get out.’ My shaky voice lets down my cool front, but I stand firm.
    ‘Watch your fucking mouth!’
    Oh, the cheek. ‘Get out!’
    ‘Okay,’ he says simply, quitting the marching to hammer me with his stare.
    ‘Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want to see me again, and I’ll go. You’ll never have to lay eyes on me again.’

    Okay, that should be relatively easy, but to my utter shock, the thought of not seeing him again actually sends a nasty ache to my stomach, which is, of course, completely ridiculous. He’s a virtual stranger to me, but God does he spark a reaction in me. He makes me feel... I’m not sure exactly what it is. But even now, when I’m raging at his damn nerve, I’m fighting to control the unwanted reactions he sparks in me.
    When I say nothing, he starts advancing towards me, his long, even strides having him directly in front of me in just a few paces. There’s barely an inch between us.
    ‘Say it.’ he breathes.
    I can’t get my mouth to function. I’m aware of my shallow breathing, pounding heart and a dull throb in my groin. I’m alert to similar reactions emanating from him. I can see his heart hammering under his pale pink shirt. I can feel his heavy, minty breath on my face. I can’t vouch for the throb, but I suspect it’s there. The sexual tension ricocheting between our close bodies is tangible.
    ‘You can’t, can you?’ he whispers.
    I can’t! I’m trying. I’m trying really hard, but the bloody words won’t come out. The proximity of our bodies and him breathing on me is re-establishing all of those incredible feelings. I’ve been catapulted back to our previous encounter, except this time there’s no risk of being interrupted by unfriendly girlfriends. Nothing to stop me, apart from my conscience, but that’s drowning in desire right now, so it’s of no help to me, whatsoever.
    He places the tip of his finger on my shoulder, his touch sending an inferno racing through me, and slowly, lightly, he drags his finger up the column of my neck until it rests at the sensitive pressure point under my ear.
    My heart goes into overdrive.
    ‘Boom…boom…boom,’ he breathes. ‘I can feel it, Ava.’
    I go rigid, pushing myself further into the wall. ‘Please, leave.’ I barely get the words out.
    ‘Put your hand over my heart.’ he whispers, grabbing my hand and placing it on his chest. He needn’t have done that. I can see his heart going ten to the dozen under his shirt. I didn’t need to feel it.
    ‘What’s your point?’ I ask quietly. I know exactly what his point is. He’s just as affected by me as I am by him.
    ‘You are one stubborn woman. Let me ask you the same question.’
    ‘What do you mean?’ I ask quietly, still not looking at