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"Yeah? You'd make a hell of a nun. Might even give me a fetish." His eyes dance over me again, darkening. "If he thinks a habit, a remote location, and a few devout old ladies would keep me from getting to you, he's wrong, though. I'd fuck you up against a wall in a convent, lickety-split."
"Oh, my god. Stop talking!" I feel the heat blazing like the sun in my cheeks. Does he ever say anything normal or is everything that comes out of his mouth shameless and filthy? I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that question.
He pushes away from the railing, grabbing for me.
Before I can even think to evade him, he's got his arms around me, dragging me up against his chest. For a man with a concussion, he moves quick. I melt into him without meaning to do it, my body pressed to his as if it's exactly where I belong. Electricity hums against my skin everywhere we touch, as if it's collecting there, preparing to unleash in a shower of lightning.
"Fuck," he growls, backing me up against the wall beside the door. "I planned on being a gentleman but that sassy fucking mouth of yours is ruining my plans, Temptation."
"Liar," I breathe. We both know he had no intention of being a gentleman. We both know that he's going to use every trick in the book to break through my defenses while we're on the road together. I knew it before I even agreed to drive him, but I agreed anyway. Because that's the power this man has over me. Because that's how crazy he makes me.
"Not lying," he says, brushing his nose against mine. His minty breath is wreaking havoc on my senses. Or maybe that's his cologne. Or the fact that I feel his erection against my belly. Or the fact that he's got his arms around me as if I belong to him. Perhaps it's all of the above. But I'm having trouble remembering why this shouldn't happen. "I did plan to be a gentleman. When I'm inside you, you'll come first. That's downright saintly, Temptation. Because I already know I'm not going to last for shit."
"Who says I'm going to sleep with you?"
His lips skim across the side of my face. "That soaked pussy says it, Gabbi," he growls against my ear. "You can lie to yourself about why you agreed to this trip, but we both know you said yes because you're fucking dying to feel me inside you."
"Atlas," I groan. It's supposed to be a warning for him to shut up. It comes out more like a needy plea for him to keep talking.
"Fuck." He draws the word out as if he's in pain. "You can't say my name like that if you don't want to give your neighbors a show." His lips settle against the side of my throat. Either my heart stops or it starts beating for the first time ever. I'm not sure. But I feel him as if he's laying a brand on my soul.
My head spins, all the reasons we can't do this threatening to drift away. In this moment, the fact that he could lose his career doesn't seem like such a big obstacle. His lips are against my skin and it's the closest to God I've ever come.
"Jesus Christ, Temptation. You're going to ruin me, aren't you?"
Probably. Just like he's going to ruin me. I think I knew it the moment I set eyes on him. I fought it because I thought he was someone he wasn't. But I knew if I let him close, he'd change my life. He's barely even entered it, and it's already upending everything, turning my neatly ordered life to chaos. And I don't hate it at all.
I feel braver and freer since I met him than I've ever felt.
"Yeah, you are," he says when I don't answer, seeking my lips with his. I think he intends the kiss to be a sweet punctuation to his statement. But it's anything but. As soon as his tongue touches my bottom lip, reality spirals away.
We end up locked in a heated embrace, kissing each other as if we've been separated by war. I lose track of everything except the way he possesses my mouth, coming back again and again to sip from my lips.
"Goddamn," he rasps, breaking away when a car door slams in the parking lot below. "Been waiting to do that since the arena."
I press my hot face to his throat, my mind reeling. I'm in way, way over my head with this man. And not even Jordan's threats are going to stop what's happening between us. It's far too late for that.
"Hell no," he growls thirty minutes later, staring at my Mercedes GT as if it just pooped on his carpet. "We're not taking your car."
"Yes, we are." I smirk at him. "I'm babysitting you. That makes me the boss of this trip. And the boss says we're taking my car. I adore my car. Rome bought it for me as a graduation present last year. It's small and flashy, but I love it.
"Temptation, if I try to fit in that goddamn thing, my feet are going to power through the floorboard. I'll be able to Flintstone us to New Mexico." He points at the car accusingly. "They didn't make it for a motherfucker my size."
"Well, they didn't make your truck for a woman my size," I say. "If I try to drive it, we aren't even going to make it out of the parking lot before I wreck."
"Wreck my truck and I'll be spanking your pretty little ass."
"How do you expect me to drive it when I can't even reach the peddles or see over the dashboard, Atlas?" I huff at him, annoyed. "I'm not built like freaking Goliath over here." I'm not even sure I'm capable of getting into his truck. I don't think it's lifted, but it's huge.
He glances at me and then at the truck and then back to me. "Fucking hell."
"The driver makes the rules."
"Yeah? You think so?"
"It's the law," I say primly. We both know I'm full of it, but his smile is awful arrogant. And hot. Lord, whichever angel crafted this man deserves a high five and a raise.
"Mmhmm," he says. "Get in the truck, Temptation. We're going to my place."
