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His nose was firm but looked like it had been broken a time or two. Then there was his mouth. She honestly didn’t know which she wanted to feel on her body more. His lips or his beard. Either way, it would probably count as a win. Both would be a jackpot.
She realized she was letting her thoughts go down a path they shouldn’t. She met his intense hazel gaze head-on.
“No,” he replied. “I’m trying to talk some sense into you, but if you would prefer that I fuck it into you instead, that can be arranged.”
She shook her head. “Just when I thought we were going to be able to come to an agreement.”
“We already have,” he countered. “You just aren’t willing to admit it.”
Exhaling heavily, she closed her eyes briefly. “This is a train wreck waiting to happen. We are like oil and water. You need someone submissive who won’t challenge you and will do whatever you say without complaint. I’m not her.”
He placed his hands on the counter beside her, trapping her neatly against him. But she knew he would let her go if she asked. Only she didn’t want him to. A pesky fact that she was going to ignore.
“What gives you the impression that I want a woman like that?” he asked. “Or are you just saying shit with the hopes that I’ll walk away without a fight?”
She brought her hands up and placed them against his chest with the intent to push him away. The second she did, she realized her mistake. It was the first time she’d ever touched him, and it would be the last. The only problem was she didn’t seem to be able to lower her hands.
The air between them became thick with anticipation. Touching him seemed to ramp up the attraction simmering between them for far too long.
Trigger leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her earlobe. She shivered, her senses heightened by his tantalizing proximity. His fingers traced a path down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Her breath hitched, a mixture of nervousness and excitement coursing through her veins.
“Harley,” he whispered, his voice a low, velvety whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. “I’m making it known to you first that I’m officially claiming you as mine.
Their eyes locked, the intensity of their connection igniting a fire that couldn’t be contained. Trigger’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her lower lip. Her heart raced as her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.
Without warning, he closed the remaining distance between them, his lips crashing onto hers in a searing kiss that left her breathless. His mouth was warm and demanding, a promise of the passion that had been brewing beneath the surface. She responded with equal fervor, her fingers sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders.
Their kiss was a symphony of desire, a rhythm that matched the beat of their racing hearts. Trigger’s hands slid down her back, pulling her impossibly closer until there was no space left between them. The sensation of his body pressed against her sent shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of her being.
She held him to her as if afraid he might disappear. His lips trailed a blazing path down her jawline, igniting sparks wherever they touched. He nipped at her collarbone, his actions both tender and electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her veins.
Their lips met again, this time with a slow and sensual exploration that left her even more intoxicated with need. Trigger’s hands roamed over her curves as if memorizing every inch of her body. Her breath hitched as his fingers grazed her breast, the electric touch sending jolts of desire straight to her core.
Harley’s inhibitions melted as the kiss deepened, replaced by an urgent hunger that demanded satisfaction. Her hands explored the contours of Trigger’s body, tracing the hard lines of his muscles and reveling in the sensation of his skin beneath her fingertips. With a fierce passion, she pressed closer to him, her lips leaving a trail of heated kisses down his neck.
Trigger’s fingers found the clasp of her jeans and undid it. However, the sound of her zipper made her stiffen as if a bucket of cold water had doused her.
“No,” she mumbled as she pushed away from him.
To her amazement, Trigger took another step back, putting additional distance between them. She pressed her fingers to her mouth, still tasting and feeling Trigger there.
She’d just screwed up big time.
If only she could turn back the hands of time. But she couldn’t, which meant this train was moving full speed ahead whether she was onboard or not. However, something told her that she stood a better chance of coming out sane if she was on it instead of in front of it.
Boy, was she fucked.
