He smirked. “You asked what he should do, not what sounded spicy.”
I opened my mouth to say something smart, but he leaned closer, and the words dried up. There was less than a breath between us now. The scent of his cologne, something clean and rich and dark, wrapped around me. Studying me, he pulled his lip between his teeth. My eyes dropped to his mouth before I could stop them. Of course, he noticed. He winked at me, and I wanted to touch… smack him.
His thumb brushed my chin, and it was crazy how much that tiny touch affected me. My skin warmed. My nipples tightened. My stomach fluttered.Not right now, I addressed my traitorous body. I was going to have to address thisbetrayal later.
“You’re a good writer,malyshka. The spice should already be there.”
His mouth hovered above mine, not quite a kiss. My breath caught before I could stop it. His lips curved when he heard it.
“You know, like the heroine still wants her husband,” he suggested.
“She still irritated with him.”
“Mm-hmm.” His nose brushed against mine. “And still thinking about how fine he is.”
I kissed my teeth. “You think highly of this imaginary man,” I muttered.
“I think he knows his wife.”
I was about to move. Really. I told myself to put some distance between us, get back to my desk and the story I was writing. Instead, I stayed there like he had me pinned.
“You know spicy ain’t gotta be him taking her over or under or through something.”
“Oh?”
“No.” His hand gently grasped my hip. “Maybe it’s him standing close enough to make it hard for her to think. Touching her so he distracts her. Looking at her like he remember exactly what she taste like.”
I felt my mouth fall open. I thanked God my panties couldn’t fall off.
“Targen—”
“I mean, this all hypothetical. For your story.”
“Lies you tell.”
His smile widened. “And guess what the heroine does?”
“She should tell his ass to go to hell.”
“While standing there like she stuck?”
I wanted to cuss him out. Instead, I said, “Maybe.”
“Then, maybe the husband realizes his wife’s mouth saying one thing and her body saying another.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are so full of yourself.”
He clutched at invisible pearls. “Me? Not at all. Just committed to helping your characters.”
I couldn’t help laughing at his faux shocked expression.
“And what does this very helpful husband do next?” I asked before common sense could save me.
“He makes it an action story.”
Then he kissed me. It was all warm and deliberate, like he was proving some point. His lips moved over mine, coaxing instead of demanding. His hand tightened on my hip. Just a little. And right when I gave in and rose to my tiptoes… he pulled back. I stared up at him, annoyed and breathing unevenly.
“That gets her attention,” he said calmly.
