Page 73 of Slow Hands Cowboy

There was a bit of a spark in her eyes, something angry, but also something that was more than a little bit horny.

The fight was what had always gotten to him. Well, not the fight alone, but he had always enjoyed the fight. It was sexy, it was exciting. Maybe it was because he had spent so many years with women who were willing to debase themselves to be with him.

Not that he was doing the debasing. It was about how they felt. In their hearts, they felt like they were better than him. They felt like they were lowering themselves to be with him, and it excited them. He had been happy to let them do it, just because it was hot.

But Addison... she hadn’t done that. She had been a bitch, she had been aloof, she had done her damnedest to run from this and from him, but she had never used him like that, and actually, he could appreciate it. He could appreciate that, whatever dysfunctional bullshit had occurred between them, she hadn’t done that.

And he wasn’t debasing her, not here, even though she might feel like it right now. All he wanted was to marinate in that spark. The challenge. The thing between the two of them that didn’t exist between him and anybody else.

It was wholly unique, exciting, and it was what had always done it for him.

He had spent a lot of years being ashamed about that. That there was something about her inaccessibility that had turned him on. But he was past shame now.

Hell, if she could be, he certainly could be.

So he took her hand and drew her up from the table, positioned her so that she was standing right in front of him. “All I’m saying is, without a proper kiss, how can you make a decision about whether or not you want to do this?”

“You have to be kidding me.”

“Impatience is pointless. Particularly when you’ve been denying this for the last thirteen years.”

“Walker, I swear to God⁠—”

“You don’t need to swear to him. You might see him soon.”

“You arrogant⁠—”

He didn’t let her finish. Instead, he lowered his head, slowly, and touched his mouth to hers. It was slow. Light. Tentative, and he didn’t feel like being or doing any of those things, but he wanted to tease her. He wanted to show her what he was talking about. Show her exactly what he meant.

She stopped talking. Her breath came out in a short shudder, and then he touched his tongue to her top lip. It was enough to make him nearly burst with need. But he didn’t want her to see that, he wanted her to be the one doing that. He wanted to be the one on top.

Which brought to mind an image that just about ended things then and there. He wasn’t going to go down like that.

Instead, he traced the outline of her lips with the tip of his tongue, while she nearly melted underneath his touch. He cupped her face, held her there, held her still so that he could deepen the kiss, deeper and deeper until his mouth was locked with hers, until his tongue was deep, sliding against hers and the slick friction was driving them both mad.

He didn’t crush her body against his, didn’t hold anything but her face, didn’t let his hands roam over her curves, and it was torture, but the most delicious, sweetest kind of torture.

When he pulled away, they were both shaking, lips swollen, slick, whole body desperate.

“There.” His voice sounded husky, rough. He didn’t sound like himself at all.

He was used to making the woman need, but he wasn’t used to needing in return, and even while he played this game, he didn’t feel like he was winning. He felt like he was balanced on the edge of a cliff, and a slight breeze could send him right over the edge. Where he would be exposed, revealed. Where it would become obvious that he was just as desperate for this, as greedy for this as she was.

Where he might end up being the one on his knees begging, and that just wasn’t how he did things.

“Oh,” she said, her voice a hushed exclamation, her eyelashes fluttering.

“Do you understand now?”

When she opened her eyes, and they met his, he could see that she was irritated. Irritated that he was right, but too far gone to put up a fight about it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a brat,” he said. “Has anyone ever told you that before?”

“No,” she said. “No one would dare.”

“Except me. I dare plenty. And you’re about to see just how much.”