“I’m not.”
Her lips part.
That is enough.
I kiss her.
I mean to take it slow. I tell myself that even as my mouth covers hers. One kiss. Enough to teach her how to answer me in public. Enough to stop her from looking shocked when I put my mouth on hers in front of her family.
Then she makes a soft, needy sound against my lips, and the wordmineburns through me so fast I have no time to bury it.
I cup the back of her neck and deepen the kiss.
She opens for me, clumsy for one second and hungry the next, and every ounce of restraint I own starts to come apart in my hands. Her fingers grip my shirt. Her body melts toward mine. She follows the pressure of my mouth like she trusts me to lead her somewhere she has wanted to go and never dared to name.
I lift her onto the desk.
She gasps into my mouth.
I step between her thighs and pull her closer, letting her feel the hard line of me against the soft heat of her body. Her dress rides up. My hand finds bare skin above her knee, and she trembles so hard I break the kiss to look at her.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
Her eyes are dazed. Her mouth is swollen from mine.
“I don’t.”
The words come out quiet, but they land like a match in gasoline.
I kiss her again, rougher this time. Her hands slide over my shoulders and into my hair. She tugs at it, and the sound that leaves my throat is closer to a growl than anything civilized.
I have held lines under fire. I have waited through nights when every shadow could mean death. I have trained my body to obey before desire, hunger, rage, or fear.
None of that compares to keeping myself from burying deep inside Natalie Mullen on my desk while she shakes in my arms and kisses me like she has been starving for this too.
I tear my mouth from hers and drag air into my lungs.
She follows me for half an inch, chasing the kiss before she realizes it.
That nearly ends me.
My hand tightens on her thigh. “Careful.”
Her eyes flutter open. “Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“I’m just sitting here.”
“You are making this difficult.”
A tiny smile curves her mouth, shy and breathless and too pleased with herself for my safety.
“Am I?”
I lower my forehead to hers because if I keep looking at that smile, I will forget every reason to stop.
“Yes.”
