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“Maybe I’d like to go home with you tonight and show you just how much I like the growl you just made by making you do it a hell of a lot more,” she said, tracing circles on his knuckles.
He caught her other hand and pressed a kiss to her wrist, pinning her down with his eyes. Yeah, this man liked control almost as much as she did. “That could be arranged.”
“Hm.” She licked her lips again, not dropping his stare. “And maybe I want to go home with you right now.”
He pulled her across the table so she was practically lying across it, then leaned in until his mouth was at her ear. “Maybe I’d like that, sweetheart.”
The solid surge of desire caught her off guard. This was supposed to be a game—a way to teach a lesson to the man who’d automatically jumped to nasty conclusions about her. The very same man who spoke about women like they were stoplights instead of human beings. She wasn’t supposed to want him. It was time to finish it and go home. Alone. “You know what I think?”
He ran his fingers through her hair, his touch feather light. “No, but I think you’ll tell me.”
“I think…” She lifted her face to his, their lips no more than a breath apart. The desire to close the distance, to see if he was a good kisser or not, consumed her, but she stayed on target. “That you smell good.”
And he did.
His fingers flexed on her and he moved in for the kiss. She pulled free and slid a finger in between their mouths, denying him the kiss he sought. He moved back and looked down at her in surprise, which then faded away into frustration. “What are you doing?”
She placed a hand on his shirt, curling her fist into the fabric and pulling him just a little bit closer. For a second, just a tiny second, she debated keeping him there. Debated forgetting about revenge, and instead getting a fabulous orgasm out of this man.
“I’m thinking,” she flicked her tongue over his lips, “that next time you call a woman a stripper, you should be absolutely sure she is one first. Have a good night with your hand, sweetheart.”
She shoved him back in the booth, stood up, and left. She couldn’t resist stealing another look back at him. And what she saw shot little thrills of anticipation shooting up her spine, then back down to twist her stomach into knots.
He was looking at her like she’d just declared war on him…and he intended to win.
Chapter Three
“Oh, hell no,” he muttered to himself. “She did not just do that.”
He’d known she wanted him. Could see it in her eyes. But instead of kissing him, she decided to get revenge on him. If he weren’t so damned turned on right now, he’d be impressed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been shot down. But right now he had an issue to resolve—and his target was leaving the building as if her sweet little ass was on fire.
Mike practically leapt out of the booth and chased after Morgan. The little minx was good. Real good. If he hadn’t seen the way she reacted to him, he would accept the play she’d just laid down and go home defeated. But he’d seen the desire in her eyes when they almost kissed. And when she grabbed his shirt, for a second she pulled him closer instead of pushing him away.
She wanted him as much as he wanted her—but she was running from the desire.
He, however, wasn’t going to run from it. Hell, no. He craved more. Though he teased with his buddies and made himself sound like a manwhore, it had been almost six months since he’d gone home with a girl. Six months since he’d met someone who made him want to take her home. And now Morgan came along, stormed into his world, and decided to leave him hanging like that?
No fucking way.
He wasn’t kidding about not wanting relationships—and he definitely wasn’t kidding about his stoplight theory, either. He was a single man and proud of it. But he wasn’t letting her get away with that move. Not tonight.
Tonight he saw green lights all the way.
When he caught up with her outside the bar, he grabbed her arm and spun her against the brick wall outside the door. People moved all around them, shoving their way down the crowded Strip, but he felt like she was the only one here with him. It was only the two of them and he wasn’t letting go until she at least admitted she wanted him.
He pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the spot by placing an arm on either side of her body. She breathed heavily, her cheeks flushed a fetching pink, and glared up at him, challenging him without a word. Instead of trying to wriggle loose from his grip, she grabbed his shoulders so she held him in place, too.
His cock hardened to painful extremes and he pushed against her. “My turn to tell you what I think,” he said, breathing into her ear.
“Fine. Go ahead.”
“I think you’ve gotten your little revenge and you liked it. You got me good. I’ll admit it. I also deserved it.” He rotated his hips against her soft belly and she swallowed a whimper. “But I also think you’re a smart girl and you know if we go home together, you’ll be a hell of a lot happier at the end of the night than you would be alone in your bed.”
“Oh yeah?” She tilted her head back and he saw the challenge in her eyes. Man, she was a little spitfire. He liked it. “What makes you think I’d be alone? I hate to break it to you but you’re not the only man in Vegas.”
White-hot jealousy coursed through his blood. Ridiculous jealousy. But it was there, nonetheless. He wanted this woman to be his tonight. Not some other man’s. “No, but I’m the only one who will make you feel like this.”
He slid his thumbs under her chin to hold her in place and their mouths collided. The second their lips met, all hell broke loose. She shoved at his shoulders, and he stumbled
