Hell for Leather (Black Knights Inc. #6)(42)

Mac noticed her body’s reaction. Even in the dimly lit room, she saw his pupils dilate. And when he licked his lips, those deceivingly soft lips? Well, it took everything she had not to shimmy up his body like an electric worker shimmies up a pole.

“You think men are led around by their dicks, don’t you?” he asked. “You think all we want is sex.”

“No.” She shrugged, watching him narrowly as she inched just a tiny bit closer. “I think men want beer and whiskey, too. Pretzels. Football on Monday nights and—”

“Yeah, I get it.” He nodded jerkily, rubbing a finger down the length of his wonderfully crooked nose. “We’re just a bunch of shallow, two-dimensional creatures, slaves to our most basic desires, and—”

She pressed a finger over his lips. A zing of sensation tripped up her spine when his hot breath tickled her skin. “Why are you trying to change the subject?” she asked him. “And why are you fighting this?”

“I’m not fightin’ anything,” he scoffed, but there was a spark of…was that fear in his eyes?

But, why?

And then it occurred to her that she might be going about this all wrong. That maybe the best way to blow through Mac’s thick, prickly barriers wasn’t to come at him sledgehammers out and swinging. He was the standoffish sort and this blatant, in-his-face attack might be doing the opposite of what she intended…frightening him into running screaming in the opposite direction. But, what then? How was she supposed to accomplish her task of turning him into putty in her hands?

And then, as if a blast of divine inspiration was breathed into her, she knew. “You’re not fighting anything?” She lifted a brow, tapping her finger ever so gently above the heavy beat of his heart, nudging his hip subtly. “So, prove it, cowboy. Because, see, here’s the deal. I’ve got this…this thing where I can’t stop thinking about you. Thinking about kissing you again on that spectacular mouth of yours.”

“You think my mouth is spectacular?” His chin jerked back.

And how cute was that? The man was unaware of just how absolutely delicious he was in every way, shape, and form.

“I do.” She nodded. “And if you must know, it’s been screwing with my head for about four years now. So, if you’re not up for sex or something close to sex, despite that giant length of wood you slung out there in the front yard,” now his fabulous lips pulled down at the corners, “then at least do me the favor of kissing me. I mean really kissing me, full-on tongueage. That way I can get you out of my system.”

There. Deal made. And now the proverbial ball was in Mac’s court…

She worried that maybe she’d read him wrong again when he swallowed thickly and took a step back, but then something changed in his eyes. His expression became less…hunted—okay, so that wasn’t very flattering—and turned a bit more contemplative. Speculative, even.

She held her breath. One second. Two.

“Just the one kiss?” He slid her a sidelong glance. “Then you’ll stop harassin’ me? Stop propositionin’ me?”

She took offense to the “harassment” part of that, but whatever. Now was not the time to quibble over semantics. “Yes,” she said and hoped she wasn’t struck down by a bolt of lightning on the spot for lying straight through her teeth. “One kiss. That’s all.”

The seconds stretched out again. One. Two. Three…

“Okay,” he finally said.

“Okay?” She slowly puffed the oxygen from her lungs, trying not to smile from ear-to-ear.

“Yes.” He nodded. A swath of dark hair fell across his brow. “Go ahead.” His voice was so wonderfully low and gravelly. “Kiss me.”

“Uh…” She thought the plan had been for him to kiss her. But again, no time to quibble. “Okay.” She nodded, wondering just how best to do this for maximum effect. And then, apparently, she was still filled with that breath of divine inspiration because she knew. She’d tell him each step before doing it. Build the tension. So when she did finally do it, he’d be so worked up that he’d forget the deal was for one kiss only. Double booyah!

“So, first I’m…I’m just going to step into you,” she whispered. “Just press myself up against you.”

“Sounds like,” again with the Adam’s apple bob, “a decent start.”

“And then I’m going to slowly sssslide,” she said, drawing out the word, “my arms around your neck.”

“Okay, then.” He nodded jerkily.

“And then I’m going to reach up on my tiptoes and—”

Before she could finish, he grabbed her waist, pulled her to him with such force that her breath caught, and slammed his mouth over the top of hers.

Oh…heavens…

There were those lips, so unexpectedly soft. Though, the pressure he applied was all man. All about the plundering and conquering. All about proving that he was now the one in control. Which, truthfully, was fine by her. Because, really, who was she to argue with him about running the show? Especially when he was doing it so well?

She opened her mouth to the slick press of his tongue, moaning at the taste of him. At some point he’d chewed on a stick of spearmint gum and his breath was fresh and delicious. Talk about toes curling into the carpet. Then, when his tongue delved and retreated, delved and retreated in languid exploration of her mouth, she forgot all about her toes or the carpet or anything else for that matter, because her muscles turned to liquid. They just dissolved into mush at the onslaught of lust roaring through her veins. She fancied it was only the fortitude of her bones that kept her from sliding horizontal.