Page 26 of Playing Mr. Perfect

“Yeah, I know,” she says too cheerily.

I let it go and motion to the literary memorabilia decorating the walls to try to lighten the mood. “What do you think of all this?”

She gazes up at it. “It’s interesting, and I can see how it would be intriguing to Amber, since she owns a bookstore, and she’s into all things literary. But famous writers aren’t really my thing.”

“Mine either. But I’m glad I have this time with you.”

Her expression turns a little bashful, and it’s an incredibly sexy look on her.

“You can admit you’re having fun, you know.”

“I’m not having a bad time,” she says sassily.

“Damn, Pep. You sure know how to make a guy feel good.”

“I think I proved that last night,” she whispers, and then she giggles and covers her mouth, like she can’t believe she said it, and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

A quick look around tells me we’re alone, and I can’t resist getting her a little worked up. “Ah, the sensual vixen I had the pleasure of devouring last night comes out to play.” I lace our fingers together.

“Clay,” she warns, her gaze flicking between the two entryways.

“There’s nobody around, and I’m just holding a friend’s hand.” I tuck her hair behind her ear, speaking low. “Tell me, Pep. Do you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you right now?”

Her lips part, lust simmering in her eyes, but she doesn’t respond.

“You don’t have to say it,” I whisper, closing the small gap between us. “I can feel how much you want me.” I slide my hand beneath her hair to the nape of her neck, bringing our lips closer together. “Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll back off.”

She breathes harder, her eyes imploring me with as much desire as restraint. Her breasts brush against me with each breath. Her fingers curl tightly around mine, and she whispers, “Are you crazy? We can’t kiss here. It’s too open. Someone will see us.”

I want to push her limits and drag her into one of the dark alcoves we’ve passed to show her just how much we can do here, but there’s something about Pepper that makes me greedier than I’ve ever been. Wanting me isn’t enough. I want to be the guy she can’t stop thinking about. The guy she can’t keep her hands off.

I want her to want to be reckless with me.

There’s only one way to achieve that, so I take what feels like the biggest risk of my life and crush my lips to hers in the kiss we both want. The kiss I’ve been dying for since I woke up with her in my bed. She stiffens, but her resistance is no match for the lust pounding between us, and she melts against me, her hands moving beneath my jacket to my chest, her fingers curling into my shirt as she goes up on her toes, eagerly returning my efforts. The feel of her surrendering to our passion makes me want to take it further. But that won’t get me what I want. I want her to realize she wants, too.

Fighting that urge with everything I have, I pull back, leaving her hazy eyed and breathless. “Looks like you were wrong, sweetheart. We can kiss here.”

Pepper

My heart thunders as Clay steps away, like he didn’t just shatter my ability to think and leave me desperate for more. The man doesn’t just kiss. He consumes, like kissing is his superpower.

I don’t know how my rubbery legs make it through the rest of the bookstore, but somehow they do. Eventually we make it downstairs and out the front door. When the winter air hits my cheeks, my brain finally starts firing again. My body, however, is still reeling from that toe-curling kiss.

“Amber, where to next?” Clay asks, as casual as can be, as if he kisses like that every day.

For all I know, he does. Shut up. Why am I sticking up for him?

“The Notre-Dame Cathedral,” Amber says excitedly as she takes Dash’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Clay falls into step beside me, and we follow the others down the sidewalk. “How’re you doing, Reckless?”

“You’re the reckless one,” I whisper. “If my sisters find out we hooked up last night and I have to deal with their crap, you’re going to pay for it.”

“Careful tossing out promises like that. I might be into you punishing me.”

I shake my head, smiling. Smiling! I should scowl, but this is what he does to me. The man renders me stupid, and I don’t hate it.

“There’s that gorgeous smile that keeps me up at night.”