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He knew that already.
She rolled right on by saying, “I’m curious about cops. I’m curious about big, broody, not-bartenders who glare at me with seriously intense, brown eyes.” She held up her hand as she continued ticking off her points. “I’m curious about the fact that you don’t even blink when a notorious serial killer is mentioned, even though that killer told me, not even twenty-four hours ago, that he’d visited your bar shortly before his arrest.”
Sonofabitch. “You spend lots of time hanging out with serial killers? Is that your hobby?” It was more than a hobby.
“Ah, see, now you’re curious.”
His jaw locked. Her choice of profession had always caused him alarm. He’d needed to take extra steps to ensure her protection. You just had to enjoy hanging with killers, didn’t you?
“You’re curious about me and my questions.” Her face became very, very somber. “I can satisfy your curiosity.”
Baby, I bet you could satisfy all sorts of things. “I believe I told you before that you should leave.” If he hadn’t told her, he should have. Never in a million years should she be in his bar. She shouldn’t be so close to him. She shouldn’t be talking to him.
How am I supposed to hold on to my control now?
“I can tell you exactly why the cops are here.” She wet her lips. Nearly had him growling. But then she continued, “And when I do that, you can tell me why you’re pretending that you don’t know exactly who I am.”
He almost forgot to breathe. And he didn’t do that shit. He wasn’t some dumb punk. “You told me you were Avalon?—”
She surged over the bar counter and grabbed his shirtfront in her hand. Fisted it. “Listen, Mr. Big, Bad, and Dangerous.”
He looked down at her hand.
“I remember you.” Low. Even huskier. “It’s pretty hard to forget the man who saved my life, even if he has grown up to have insane muscles, a jaw that looks like granite couldn’t chip it, and eyes that have me feeling like you’ve stripped me naked a dozen times since we first started talking.”
Shit. He’d been trying not to look too hungry. But in his mind, hell, yes, he’d stripped her naked more than a dozen times already.
“I remember you,” she repeated, even softer. “Hard for a girl to forget her hero.”
His eyes slowly lifted until they locked on hers. “You are making a mistake.” She should understand that fact right now. “I’m no one’s hero.”
“You are mine.” She jerked him forward and planted her lips on his.
Chapter Two
Bad mistake. Super bad. Horrible, tragic, huge mistake.
But when a hero walked straight out of a woman’s memories—dreams and fantasies—you had to be ready to seize the moment. Or, in this particular instance, be ready to seize the hero. And she had.
Avalon had practically crawled across the bar counter. She’d nearly torn his white t-shirt as she hauled Beau closer. And her mouth was currently planted hard to his. And he was…
Doing nothing.
Standing there. Still as a statue. And just as hard as one, too.
She should retreat. Pull back. She’d made a serious tactical mistake. But she just hadn’t expected to walk into this warehouse-turned-bar and find her hero waiting with those sexy-as-sin eyes. Dark and deep eyes that Avalon swore could see straight into her soul. Eyes like his know every secret I possess.
And he wasn’t moving.
“Uh, boss?”
It was the guy she suspected to be the real bartender.
Beau still wasn’t kissing her in return. She should retreat and try to pull up her tattered pride. Clearly, Beau was not even mildly interested in her, and she needed to calm the hell down. It was definitely not appropriate behavior to jump your hero when you saw him. Her bad.
But before she could pull up her pride and make her embarrassing retreat, his big, powerful hands flew out and locked around her waist. One swift move had her completely over the bar top before she could even gasp. Her lips did part, and in that instant, his tongue plunged inside as he took over the kiss. Beau’s strength was incredible, super sexy beyond belief, and she found herself curling her arms around his neck and holding on tightly as she enjoyed what was quickly becoming the absolute hottest kiss of her life.
He didn’t kiss gently. No subtle seduction. He tasted her like someone who’d been starving for years. Stroked and thrust and his wicked, wicked tongue had her moaning and arching closer.
