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Friends, my psyche snorts.
Marcus doesn’t bother looking toward the area I’m pointing at. Instead, he bats my hand out of the air and says, coolly, “If it’s work clothes you’re looking for, you won’t be finding what you need in any of those boutiques.”
I don’t know what comes over me, but in a panic, I raise my chin and lie right through my teeth. “Actually, I need a dress.”
A rush of smug satisfaction slithers through me when his smile fades. “A dress?”
“Mm-hmm. For a date,” I blurt, followed by, “with Ernesto.”
Oh boy.
Marcus cocks his head, his eyes narrowing as I give him my most innocent smile. “And since you think I’m soincapable, I’ve decided I’ll no longer be helping on the ranch.”
A hint of anger flickers in those blues.
“That’s not what I meant,” he says, but I’m distracted by a glint of refracted light.
My face scrunches as if someone has a mirror and they’re shining it directly into my eye. I blink at the wooded area behind the parking lot, but when I raise a hand to block the irritation, my body freezes in place.
“What is it?” Marcus asks without a trace of humor before placing his body in front of mine.
I calculate how many steps it’ll take to get us inside the yellow-striped tent. There’s no time to explain that in a matter of seconds, a photographer will have a slew of pictures for any greedy magazine or tabloid willing to pay.
A shot of Marcus’s face will sell for thousands, but there’s nothing paparazzi hate more than a blocked shot. In their world, they’re practically worthless.
“Move,” I whisper, stepping in front of him and giving him a push.
Scowling, he digs in his heels, refusing to budge. “What the hell are you doing?”
Infuriating man.
Quick on my feet, I slap both hands over Marcus’s cheeks, making sure my back is to the camera.
“Kiss me,” I say in a rush.
“Wha—”
Knowing we’re out of time, I haul his mouth down to mine, hoping my hat and body will block him enough to be unrecognizable.
At first, he’s shocked still, his lips unmoving but luxuriously warm.
With his mind otherwise preoccupied, I’m finally able to get his feet moving backward into the sand until we’re tripping through the entrance of the tent.
Lucifer’s balls, these lips are just as pillowy soft as they appear.
Once we’re safely tucked inside, a dam breaks loose. He moans, and it’s the most decadent sound I’ve ever heard. “I’ve been dying to do this.”
Dying?I’m reeling over his admission when one hand swiftly winds across my neck. Marcus hauls me into him and grabs my chin with the other, and the pinching grip tugs my jaw down enough that I open for him.
I don’t have a moment to think before his tongue effortlessly slips inside my mouth. He licks and lures every nerve ending along my responding tongue to the surface.
Yes, yes, yes.A sleeping goddess awakens, and she’s ravenous.
Hot lava sluices my veins, accompanied by a delicious throb between my legs.
Kissing Marcus is like jumping into a hot spring, naked. Every heated stroke and swipe become my undoing, but warning bells blare behind the haze of sensory overload.
It takes the last ounce of effort I have to pry myself off him, disconnecting the kiss.
