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Chapter Four
Noah
McKenzie Prescott is nothing like what I expected. El Gato told me she was cautious and reserved, a twenty-four-year-old somewhat naive and mousy girl prone to panic attacks, a girl who spent more time with women than men designing elaborate wedding gowns for a living and who was slightly afraid of her own shadow. But the girl walking toward me with the hint of a smile on her pouty lips is anything but mousy. This woman is pure sex on a stick, with dark blonde hair hanging in a sexy riot of waves halfway down her back, long-lashed, smoky blue eyes, luscious curves perfectly showcased in a black, body-hugging slip of a dress with cutouts up the side that show a tantalizing glimpse of flesh, and a confident swing of her hips as she walks boldly toward me.
I stand up slowly, enjoying the view as she approaches. She’s nearly in front of me when the heel of her six-inch black stiletto catches on the edge of the carpet, and I instinctively reach out to steady her. The electricity that sizzles between us as my hands make contact with her bare skin is palpable, and my cock hardens instantaneously. Damn. I haven’t felt this sort of visceral attraction to a woman in years. Maybe ever.
I mentally shake my head. I’m here to do a job, not get laid. Still, I leave my hand on the curve of her hip, not willing to break the physical contact just yet. Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t move away.
“Why were you watching me?” she asks. Her low-pitched voice has the barest hint of a southern accent.
“Just wondering what your lips would taste like when I kissed you,” I answer evenly, looking straight into eyes so blue you could drown in them.
Her eyes widen and then her lashes lower, but not before I see them dilate in response. She keeps her gaze averted for one long moment, and then she looks back up at me. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
I take another step closer, and with one hand still on her waist, I cup my other hand around the side of her neck as my thumb brushes her cheek. I lean forward and kiss her, and the electricity that crackled between us when I first touched her erupts into a full conflagration as our lips meet. Her lips are soft and I gently coax them open, slipping my tongue into her mouth. There’s a sharp little intake of breath, and then her tongue meets mine tentatively. She tastes like honey on a hot summer’s day—so sweet and rich you want to dip back in for seconds. I do just that, deepening the kiss as my tongue sweeps over hers, devouring the little sigh that escapes from her. When I finally pull back slightly, our lips still mere inches from each other, it takes a minute for her eyes to open and focus.
“Do you always kiss girls you don’t know like that?” she asks breathlessly.
“No.”
Her eyes widen again, but before she can say anything else, her friends are there, pulling her back out to dance with them and the pathetically eager group of spare pricks they’re dancing with. She goes reluctantly, her eyes still fixed on mine, until she finally breaks our gaze and follows her friends. Five seconds later, she stops and looks back at me over her shoulder as the auburn-haired one grabs her arm laughingly, urging her to come.
“Do you want to dance?” McKenzie asks me.
I follow her onto the dance floor, stepping right in front of the fresh-faced kid with a boner for McKenzie who’s been trying to work up the courage to dirty dance with her for the last hour. I grasp her hips firmly, pulling her sweet little ass against my pelvis. She looks up over her shoulder at me briefly, hesitation in her eyes, but then she gives herself over to the music, circling her hips in time to the music as we dance together. She’s provocative without trying, keeping some distance between us so she’s not pressed too intimately against me. Still, her tight, curvy bottom brushes against me enough that she has to know exactly how hard I am for her.
She’s a good dancer, and her body follows the beat like it pulses through her veins. We dance to several more songs as the kid shoots daggers at me and her friends eye me speculatively.
I lean forward so my lips are near her ear. “Want to go back to my cabana and get a drink?”
She nods, murmurs something to her friends, and follows me back to the curtained space along the edge of the pool, where she carefully settles herself on the sofa next to me. Instantly, a waiter appears. “The usual, sir?” he asks.
I nod. “What would you like?” I ask her.
“Crown and Coke, please,” she says.
After the waiter disappears, she says, “I don’t usually do this.” Her gesture encompasses the entire club, and I’m not sure if she’s talking about Vegas, the nightclub, or me.
“Vegas?”
“Vegas, clubs, dancing like that, kissing men I don’t know…” She trails off as the waiter returns with our drinks.
“Why are you now?” I ask. I’m curious, yes, but I want to know if she feels the same sexual draw I do, even though I know I can’t do a damn thing about it.
She shrugs and then smiles right at me, and my dick throbs in response to the full wattage of her smile. “Just feeling reckless tonight, I guess.”
“Well, I’m glad you decided to choose tonight to feel reckless. I feel lucky that I happened to be here,” I say, although luck has nothing to do with it.
She licks her lips nervously, and I want nothing more than to push her back against the plush sofa and ravish her mouth until her lips are bruised, her fingers are fisted in my hair, and she’s whimpering my name.
I shake my head. I have no business thinking like that. McKenzie Prescott is off-limits. She’s a target, not a conquest, and I can’t let thinking with my dick fuck up this assignment. But I wasn’t expecting this visceral attraction, this overwhelming need to touch her and mark her and make her mine. Still, it can’t hurt to flirt a little. No harm, no foul.
I lift her hand. It feels small and delicate in mine. “You’re very beautiful,” I murmur, my voice low.
“And you’re very dangerous,” she counters, but she’s smiling.
She has no idea just how dangerous I am.
“I don’t even know your name,” she says, looking down at our fingers threaded together.
“It’s Noah.” What the hell? I might as well tell her my real name.
“Hi, Noah. I’m McKenzie.” Her voice is a seductive purr.
Turning toward her, I cup her face with my hand and brush my mouth across her lips softly. “Tell me, McKenzie. Do you feel like gambling tonight?”
