Silver Elite

by Dani Francis

“This mouth,” he warns, his thumb scraping the seam of my lips until it reaches the cut in the corner, “is going to get you in trouble, Dove.” It’s hard to draw a breath. When I finally do, my chest rises, and his gaze lowers to it. Redden. Cross Redden. Very slowly, I inch forward. He blinks in surprise. Our bodies are almost flush as I advance, walking him backward toward his desk. Until his ass hits the solid wood and he has nowhere else to go. I lick the corner of my mouth, and a coppery flavor coats my tongue. “Cross,” I say. He blinks again, as if surprised to hear his name leaving my lips. “I don’t know how the General raised you, but where I come from, you don’t touch a woman without her consent.” I rub the cut, scraping my nails over it so it spills open. Coating the pads of my fingers with blood. Then I reach out and drag those fingertips over the Silver Block emblem on his shirt. I smile as the silver coloring is stained red. His nostrils flare. “In other words,” I finish, my voice cold, “don’t touch me again without my permission.” Cross’s gaze never leaves my face. “Or what?”