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Her lips are softer than the smack on the mouth she gave me at the bar. Soft and warm and something I want to taste.
I don’t think. I slide my hands up her arms and hold her, my gaze colliding with hers. Those hazel depths are liquid and full of something that looks like desire.
So I do it. I brush my mouth against hers in a teasing taste of a kiss.
And she moans. A soft little sound. And it calls to me.
This time it isn’t about thinking or not thinking. It’s just feeling.
“I’m going to kiss you again,” I say, running a thumb over her lips, parting them, “thoroughly.”
Once more, I lower my mouth to hers.
Chapter Six
Scarlett
Oh my sweet, sweet Lord.
This man can kiss.
His mouth is hot and wet and firm on mine, and tendrils of desire bloom like insane flowers inside me.
The first kiss was divine, but this is a game changer. It’s seduction, it melts my bones, and my heart is hammering in my chest as he draws me into him. I’m wrapped around him, his erection pressing against my stomach though he makes no move to do anything but kiss.
I’m burning. I’m pure sensation and I want to go deeper and deeper into the kiss to see where it goes. My clit throbs with need as my insides clench, like there’s something they must have. That pleasure-filled desire is blooming madly and if I could crawl into this kiss, I would. Right down into its depths.
There are songs written about kisses, books. Movies made. Legends built and this kiss blows them all into nothing more than dust.
And I’m melting into him. His tongue is magic in my mouth and he tastes like Scotch and sin and wicked promises.
His hand slides down my spine, a soft, tantalizing touch I feel everywhere, and then the kiss is over and he’s let me go.
I’m a mess. I’m panting. I thought running earlier was my undoing, but really, it’s this. My blood pounds loudly in my ears and my entire body is encased in some kind of heat haze that the running could only dream of creating. And inside, down deep in my core, right there between my legs, I’m a throbbing, needing, mass of nerve ends that are tight and aching in that good way I know his touch can both rile and soothe and push me over the edge and he—
Hudson Sinclair looks cucumber cool and spectacularly unruffled, like he didn’t just have the kiss of his life.
I hit the concrete hard. Metaphorically, that is. Reality floods my veins with a coolness that a vat of ice never could.
For all I know, Hudson wasn’t moved by that kiss like I am. Or was. I’m over it now. At least, that’s what I tell myself. He’s rich, he dates the kind of gorgeous women I could never hope to be. And he thinks I’m some airhead rich girl who can’t hold on to money.
I thought I was wildly attracted to him before, but that was mere passing fancy. This is a drop your panties attraction. That kiss opened something in me.
But not for him, because this is fake. And now he’s staring at me. I have to say something. “That was…nice.”
His eyebrows rise and I want to melt away.
“It’s good,” I say, “to know we can do that in case we have to. For…appearances.”
Hudson’s mouth quirks a little. “Do you want me to walk you in?”
“God no!” I stop and a woman walking by casts me a long look. I ignore her, just like I ignore the burn in my cheeks that’s all embarrassment. “People will talk.”
What I want is for him to kiss me again. I think about doing it, just to see if that was a fluke, but I don’t have the nerve. Besides, I’m horribly aware I don’t live in the building behind me and I’m lying to the man who said he’d destroy me if I do that.
I don’t think he will, but there’s that martini quality to him. The bite beneath the smooth that worries me.
It’s not like he’s going to find out, but I’d rather not test that, so I step away and say, “I’ll see you tomorrow at work. For you.”
