Marcus Kane slammed the door of his penthouse behind him, the violent crack echoing through the empty marble foyer. It was barely nine-thirty at night, but the day had been a relentless, throbbing agony. Every time Sienna had walked past his office, every lingering glance, every subtle sway of her hips had clawed deeper into his fraying sanity. He refused to let that spoiled brat sink her claws in any deeper.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself as he ripped his tie loose and poured a heavy glass of whiskey. "I've been working too damn hard. I'm just backed up and s*x-starved. That's all this is."
He needed a distraction tonight. Soft curves, sweet perfume, a warm, wet, and willing p***y that would remind him exactly what he craved. No more confusing thoughts. No more green eyes
