The Devil You Know (The Grumpy Devils, #3)

by Elizabeth O'Roark

I want the world to be a different place for the women who come after me. And the only way to make that happen is to ignore the fact that it isn’t different yet. But I’m so goddamned tired of staying silent just to get the things I deserve.

His eyes travel over my face, land on my mouth. His breathing is shallow and so is mine. I want him to kiss me. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything. The realization hits all at once, shocking and terrifying, and I stumble away, heading straight for the elevator. And he stands there, frozen, watching me go.

“I should have fucked you then, too,” he says, eyes flashing, “just to see how else surprise makes you yield.”

“I’ve wanted to watch your face when you come for so fucking long,” he says, gripping my hair, pulling my head back so all I can see is him. His jaw is locked tight, as if he’s barely restraining himself. “Go ahead. I know you want to.”

“God, I love that,” he rasps.

I flew across the country and drove over an hour, only to see you. I’m heading to my room. #312. The door is unlocked.

“Fuck,” he groans against my skin.

“Gemma, I’m doing exactly what I’ve wanted to do for two fucking years.”

But he says nothing. He doesn’t even smile. He simply moves forward, and he doesn’t stop until our bodies are flush. I gasp—some combination of surprise and pleasure—while his hands grip my hips, pulling me closer. “The outfits you wear fucking destroy me,” he says.

“I want to be someone you trust enough to invite home, Gemma. And I’m willing to wait for it.”

He pushes my skirt to the floor and moves back just enough to let me step out of it, his eyes traveling over me—now in nothing but lingerie and Louboutins. I start to kick the shoes off and he stops me. “Not yet,” he says. “Those goddamn heels of yours have tortured me for two years straight.”

And now you sound jealous.” “Yeah,” he replies, jaw grinding. “No shit.”

“You want to burn the whole world to ash, just to make sure every path she walks is cleared for her. I know the feeling.”

“I’m crazy about you, Gemma,” he whispers against the top of my head. “I don’t want to be, but I am.”

“Did. He. Kiss. You?” he demands. “Of course not!” I shout. “Why are you so obsess—” His mouth comes down on mine, hard and fast. Angry, demanding. I don’t let myself think about what this means. I just give in.

“Jesus,” he says, nostrils flaring as he looks at me. “You fucking love this, don’t you? Admit you love being held down and fucked.” I do, but I’m not about to give in that easily. “Not as much as you love doing it.” “I’m so goddamn close,” he says. “Keep running that smart mouth. Maybe I’ll just go ahead and come, and let you wait until later.” I can’t. I can’t let him do it. I’m so close. “I love it.”

When we get off the phone, I lock the office door then sit with my face in my hands, trying not to cry. I love him. I love him so fucking much it terrifies me.

You only stayed because you had something to prove, and I only stayed because I was in love with this woman there who loathed me.” “You love me?” I ask. His thumb swipes a tear off my cheek. “This can’t be a surprise to you. I’ve been in love with you for two years straight. You were the only reason I interviewed there in the first place.”