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“I’m a little buzzed.” Come to me.
He stayed where he was.
She picked up the tequila. “Do you want a shot?”
His gray eyes darkened to a storm cloud. “That depends.”
“On what?” She gulped, excitement beating fast in the pulse of her neck.
“Do I get to lick the salt from your skin?”
She practically melted into a puddle. “That seems fair.”
He uncrossed his arms and walked to her, slow, steady, and predatory. So much hotter than if he’d hurried.
Her heart pounded in her ears.
When he stood in front of her, he slid his hands onto her hips before lifting her onto the counter. Sophie might burst into flames.
Eyes a dark gray filled with intent, he picked up the salt shaker. He met her eyes. “Where should I put it, Sophie?”
Her voice was husky when she spoke. “Drinker’s choice.”
He curled his free hand around her neck, letting his fingers tangle in her hair. All thoughts of stopping this madness between them evaporated into thin air. Besides, who was she kidding? It had been game on since they laid eyes on each other. With his thumb, he trailed a path down her jaw before brushing it over her mouth. Her lips parted and he hissed out a breath as he swept over their wetness, making her tingle all over.
His expression turned feral and he fisted her hair and pulled her head back.
She moaned and braced herself on the counter.
With slow, deliberate movements, he leaned down and slowly licked right where her collarbone and neck met.
Oh dear God.
Her legs parted, and when he stepped between them, her thighs tightened on his hips.
This, right here, was the hottest thing that had ever been done to her. One touch and he’d blown sex out of the water.
His teeth scraped over her skin, and he licked again and she clutched the counter.
Not letting go of her hair, he pulled back and shook the salt onto her wet skin before his tongue fluttered over her pulse.
She was about to come on the spot.
He pulled back, releasing his grip on her hair so the base of her neck tingled.
He straightened and, eyes never leaving hers, drank from the bottle. How gray eyes could look so hot was a mystery, but he burned her up.
He didn’t bother with the lime. Instead he put down the bottle and put a hand on either side of her on the counter. He shook his head. “This is not good.”
She was going to hyperventilate. “Not good at all.”
“What are we going to do about this, Sophie?”
She bit her lip. “I don’t know, Ryder.”
He rested his big hands on her hips. “No ideas?”
“Stop?” Voice so breathless it belied the word.
