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And her mouth—he’d give anything to taste that mouth, was being for the first time in his life reckless, selfish, for that very mouth. A mouth that promised all the innocence he’d never had, trust, beauty, affection he’d never had.
Without any further thought, he pulled her close. “One kiss. Right now.”
“But you’re my boss,” she breathed, clutching his shirt collar with a death grip. But her bright, luminous green eyes gazed up at him. And those eyes said yes.
Her lips were plush, parted, eager for his. He brought his thumb back to scrape them. “Just pretend I’m not him.”
“But you are him—”
“I don’t want to be him, I want to be…just Marcos.” Their relationship had been wrapped in rules, limited by their roles. What if Virginia had been just a woman? And he just a man? She would have been his, might still be his. “Only Marcos.”
The passing city lights caused slanted shadows to shift across her face—she looked splendid, wary, wanting.
“A kiss is harmless, Virginia.” His vision blurred with desire as he stretched his arm out on the seat behind her and dipped his head. Their breaths mingled, their mouths opened. “People kiss their pets. They kiss their enemies on the cheeks. They kiss a letter. They even blow kisses into the air. You can kiss me.”
“This is a little unexpected.”
“God, I’d hate to be predictable.” His arm slid from the back of the seat and went around her shoulders, loosely holding her to him. His fingers played with the soft, bouncy curls at her nape. His accent got unbearably thick—like his blood, a terse string of lust flooding his veins. It took concentration to give her a smile meant to disarm. “Stop thinking about it and kiss me.”
Her curls bounced at the shake of her head. “We don’t have to kiss to pretend to be…together. I can pretend convincingly without kissing.”
No kissing? Christ, no. He had a fascination with her mouth, the delicate bow at her upper lip, the ripe flesh of the bottom one. He’d been kissing that mouth for days, weeks, months, in his mind. “You’re wrong, amor.” He bussed her temple with his lips, aware of his muscles flexing heatedly under his clothes, his skin feverish with pent-up desire as she continued clinging to his shirt. “We must kiss. And we must kiss convincingly.”
“I—You didn’t mention this before.”
He caressed her cheekbone with the back of one finger and noted the frantic pulse fluttering at the base of her throat. Christ, once again she was fixated with his mouth, and he wanted to give it to her. Now. Right now. Slam it over hers, push into her, taste all of her. “Kiss me, Virginia. Kiss me senseless.” He barely held himself in check with his ruthless self-discipline.
She hesitated. Then, in a burdened breath, “Only a kiss.”
His heart rammed into his ribs at the realization that she had agreed. To kiss him. Ay, Dios.
He urged himself to ease back on the seat and stifled the impulse to take matters into his own hands. He was a second away from losing his mind. A second away from tearing off her clothes, the necklace at her throat, his shirt, everything that separated them. Still, he wanted to be sure, sure she wanted this. Him. Them.
He groaned and said, “Kiss me until we can’t breathe.”
“I… The driver could see us.” She sounded as excited as he, and the breathless anticipation in her voice plunged him even deeper into wild, mad desire.
“Look at me, not him.”
“You’re all I’m looking at, Marcos.”
He didn’t know who breathed harder, who was seducing whom here. She laid her hands over his abdomen. He hissed. The muscles under her palms clenched. His erection strained painfully.
Her hands slid up his chest, a barely there touch. Fever. She cradled his jaw with two cool, dry palms…and waited. Hesitant, inexperienced. In a ragged plea, she croaked, “Close your eyes.”
He did. Not because she asked, but because her fingers lovingly stroked his temple, down his jaw. Her hands drifted lower and curled around his shoulders, rubbing along the muscles so sensually he gritted his teeth. This was murder.
She had to stop. She had to go on.
“Do it. Do it now.” The helpless urgency in his voice startled him as much as the other emotions coursing through him. Arousal ripped through him like a living beast.
Then he felt the warm mist of her breath on his face, sensed the nearness of her parting lips, heard through the roaring in his ears her tremulous whisper. “I’m a bit out of practice—”
He didn’t let her finish. He reached out and slipped a hand beneath the fall of hair at her nape and hauled her to him. “Virginia,” he rasped, and slammed her mouth with his.
Four
Virginia had meant for a quick kiss. Only a taste. A taste to satisfy her curiosity. Her need. A taste because she could not, could never, deny this man. But when he pulled her down and his mouth, so strong and fierce and hungry, touched hers, there was no stopping what came over her.
