The hate between Mia and Tyler kept growing at work, but so did the hunger. Every argument in the office made them want to tear each other’s clothes off even more. The angrier they got, the harder they f****d. It was like the fights were foreplay now.
One Wednesday after a long team meeting where they clashed again in front of everyone, Tyler sent Mia a text: “Parking garage. Level 3. My car. Ten minutes.”
Mia’s heart raced as she took the elevator down. She hated how excited she felt. When she reached his black SUV in the dimly lit garage, Tyler was already waiting in the driver’s seat. She climbed into the back and barely had time to close the door before he pulled her over the console.
Their mouths attacked each other — rough, angry kisses, teeth nipping, tongues fighting. Tyler yank
