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“It does,” Nash continued, bending forward.
Honey inhaled sharply and wanted to look away, but, mouth dry, she couldn’t do anything other than stare up at him helplessly.
“Why’s that?” she managed to ask, glad she could get the words out.
That wicked grin touched his lips once more, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away if her life depended on it. She closed her eyes when his warmth caressed the skin beneath her ear, and little shivers of need rolled over her. She felt his mouth, a whisper away from her skin, and an image flashed behind her eyes. Naked limbs. Straining muscles. That delicious butt thrusting slow and steady.
Her eyes flew open, and she stared at the ceiling as he whispered, “I was thinking I might kiss you.”
Could he hear her heart? Sense her need?
“That would be a bad idea,” she managed to reply, slowly pulling back so she could see his face. Which was the wrong thing to do, because Nash Booker made no effort to hide the naked desire that sat there.
He reached up and grabbed a long tendril of hair, twisting it between his fingers, though his gaze never left her. “Because I’m not a short, balding man with a beer gut?”
“Yes,” she replied, mind racing and surprised at her thoughts. She wanted this.
He slid his fingers along each side of her cheek. “But I do have the hands.” His long fingers buried themselves in the hair at her nape as he gently pulled her forward. “That has to count for something.”
His mouth was near hers, and the heat from his body slid over her like a warm caress. Her fingers splayed across his chest, and she felt his heart beating as rapidly as hers.
“No strings,” she whispered. “Just sex.”
“Now you’re talking my language.” She felt his erection against her stomach, and suddenly, her knees were weak. She’d not been intimate since before she’d come to Crystal Lake, and that had been months ago. The need to connect to another human pushed her forward, though her mind still had doubts. She could have sex with any of the men who came into the bar. Why was she focused on Nash?
“It’s still a bad idea.” She was finding it hard to concentrate.
His mouth slid to the corner of hers. “True. But I think we can handle it. Though I’ll leave that to you to decide.”
“You’re such a gentleman,” she murmured, the ache between her legs intensifying.
“Not really,” he replied, moving his mouth slightly and nipping her skin. “I know this is going to happen.”
She slid her hands up to his shoulders and pressed her body against him. She didn’t say a word, because there was no point. She wasn’t in control. For a woman used to driving the train, so to speak, the feeling wasn’t something she was used to. Honey would regret this, there was no doubt about that. But for whatever reason, she didn’t care.
Nash was right. This was going to happen.
8
What the fuck am I doing?
The question was a legitimate one. And if Nash Booker was in a better frame of mind, he might even have answered it. But he was so far away from thinking with a straight head (because of the current situation with the head between his legs), that as soon as the thought whispered through his brain, he pushed it away. He ignored everything in him that was saying this right here was a bad idea. Probably the wrong play, but he was past doing the right thing.
It was that very thing that should have given him pause.
As it was, Nash couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman as much as he wanted Honey. Sure, sex with Jade had been good. Melinda too. Hell, any woman he’d been with got the job done. But right now, his entire body was on fire with the need to bury himself deep inside the woman before him.
And they weren’t even friends. Not really.
If he’d been paying attention, he’d have noticed the signs. The slow burn that took hold in his gut tonight and never left. Though, if he was honest with himself, it was a slow burn that had been simmering for weeks. Nope. Check that. Simmering for months. And up until now, he’d handled things. He’d backed off because he was smarter than this.
So what changed? Was it the sight of Cam and Honey getting close as they’d worked his bar? Jack Hazel asking him at least ten times for her phone number? Or the fact he’d caught her staring at Hudson several times, a strange expression on her face. He knew virtually nothing about the woman, and that made him wonder about a lot of things. But then, so did the damn tattoo up her spine. He sure as hell wanted to see that again.
And maybe find the hidden ones.
She made a noise at the back of her throat, and his dick swelled to the point of pain. Did he really give a shit about any of the reasons that brought him here? To this moment with this woman?
He inhaled sharply, but had enough sense to drag his mouth from her skin so he could look her in the eye. He had to take a moment and clear his throat.
