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“Spare me. For a man who’s so resistant to human connection that he’d rather die alone than possibly risk getting close to someone, I don’t think your opinion on chemistry matters very much.”
If only she knew the truth, that the only parts of Keaton’s day that felt real sometimes were the moments he shared with Leah and his mom. The rest—work, deals, the career climbing—helped to numb him from all the emotions he didn’t want to feel.
“You don’t know anything about me,” he said.
Something flickered in August’s eyes. Instead of being scared by that side of him, she came closer. Unfolded her arms. Reached a hand to his chest. Of course she would—she dealt with animals all the time. A little growling didn’t scare her.
“I know more than you think,” she said. “More, probably, than you’d prefer me to know.”
“I doubt it.” Control was in his grasp again, smirk firmly in place as he clasped her hand in his.Gotcha.“You see what I want you to see.”
“Only a fool would take you at face value, Keaton.” She tipped her face up to his. “And, for the record, you don’t intimidate me.”
“So in control of your emotions, August. So unaffected.” His smile turned wolfish. “I bet if I tried to kiss you now, you’d melt like a stick of butter on a hundred-degree day.”
“Dream on.”
Satisfaction coursed through him when her nostrils flared, giving her true feelings away despite the cool response. He dipped his head lower so he could whisper right into her ear. “And I bet you’d cling to me like you were lost at sea.”
Her breath stuttered. “You’re not as attractive as you think you are.”
“Maybe not to some people,” he replied. “But I am to you.”
It wasn’t cocky if it was fact, right?
“I bet you’d feel a hundred times more chemistry with me than you felt with Asher,” he said.
“I don’t want chemistry,” she said stubbornly. “Chemistry is unreliable. And you vastly overestimate your impact on me.”
“Bullshit.”
Defiance rolled off her in waves, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. She was torn between being desperate to prove him wrong—to maintain the distance between them—and her fear that her own response was out of her control.
“Do something, then,” she taunted. “Because I’m starting to feel like you’re all talk and no action.”
“Be careful what you wish for.”
“Full permission. Do your worst and I promise you’ll find my reaction disappointing. Maybe even a little ego bruising,” she said. “I’m sick of your teasing. You never act on it, so it’s all just hot air to me. In fact—”
She squeaked in surprise when he shoved her against the wall, trapping her with his chest, the palm of one hand planted beside her head and the other tipping her face up to his. He caught how her eyes widened when she realized that he was the spider and she was the fly—and that he fully intended to rise to her challenge.
“Full permission, huh? Well, I’m not going to waste such an opportunity.”
“Keaton...” Her breath came in ragged bursts, but she didn’t tell him to stop. Instead she flattened her hands against the wall behind her and looked up at him. She wasn’t backing down.
Her body was warm and soft against his, her curves pressing against him in all the best places. His lips hovered over hers, their breath mingling in that delicious pre-kiss limbo. As predicted, her lips parted in that final second, welcoming him in. He pressed against her, locking her down with his hips and his mouth.
She didn’t kiss like a woman who had someone else she’d rather be kissing. Hell, no. She kissed like a woman starved. A woman who’d been denied what she wanted and finally had the go-ahead to take it all. Any pretense of resistance was crushed when her tongue slid along his, her hands coming up to his arms—not pushing away but pulling toward.
She ground her hips against him and his cock pulsed. No fear. No resistance. No demons shouting inside his head.
He felt like the old Keaton again.
He was tantalized by the thought of unzipping her pants so he could slide a hand into them. It would be oh-so easy to glide the zipper head down and feel her hot against his hand. To show her that he didn’t want to stop at a kiss.
You’re playing with fire. Redheaded, curvy fire.
He had to force himself not to wind the silken lengths around his fist so he could yank her head back and plunder that pouty little mouth further. What on earth was she doing to him? Heneverlost control.
