Hot Number (Hot Zone 2)
Page 61
She placed her hand in his and pulled him close.
He met her gaze, desire flaring in his expressi
on. "Micki…"
Her name was meant as a warning, she knew.
For the first time in what seemed like ages, she heard Roper telling her to step up and take what she wanted. One night of fun, she reminded herself and rose to her tiptoes to touch her mouth to his. She lingered for a while, just savoring his warm lips and his arousing masculine scent that had her stomach flipping in purely sensual anticipation. Micki's bones seemed to torn to liquid and she thought she'd melt right on the spot. When he lifted his hands and cupped her face, holding her head in place so he could take control, all the yearning and desire she'd been holding back rose to the surface.
He tipped her head and slid his mouth over hers, moving his lips deftly from side to side in a kiss that suddenly turned hot. Drugging. Her chest rose and fell and her breasts grew heavy, aching for his touch. She stepped closer, so her chest brushed against his, but the light friction did little to ease the building, burning need. She moaned and curled her hands around the fabric of his shirt. It was all she could do not to strip him right here and make up for lost time.
"Ahem. I know my eyes are blurry but I think I'm seeing clearly enough to know this ain't the place for hanky-panky," Uncle Yank said, interrupting them.
Damian jumped back first, while Micki closed her eyes so she could take a minute to compose herself. "Ever hear of knocking?” she asked her uncle.
"Ever hear of behind closed doors?" he retorted.
She let out a frustrated groan.
"I'm sorry," Damian said, stepping farther away. "That wasn't appropriate.”
Micki blinked. "Oh this is great. You're apologizing to my uncle for kissing his twenty-six-year-old niece!"
"It's a matter of respect," both her uncle and Damian said at the same time.
"Well at least we agree on something." Uncle Yank nodded, obviously pleased.
Micki pushed her curls out of her face, completely mortified by the two men and their frank talk. Because she'd been such a tomboy, she'd never gone through a traditional dating phase that included Uncle Yank interrogating boyfriends. She didn't want to begin one now.
She stomped over to her desk and picked up her purse, which she'd forgotten the first time she'd tried to leave, and turned to the two men standing by the door. "Well, don't we have a party to get to?" she asked.
With any luck her uncle would have his driver waiting and she could get a minute alone with Damian before heading over to the large family gathering.
"We sure do. Let's get a move on so I can open my presents." Uncle Yank shoved Damian through the door first, then held it open for Micki.
"We'll meet you there," she promised
"I thought we'd go together." Her uncle rubbed his palms in anticipation, not the least bit concerned that three was a crowd.
“I’ll drive," Damian offered.
"Fine," Micki muttered. A short drive with her uncle as chaperone wouldn't be so bad. They had all night to enjoy their time together.
And to see whether or not they planned to go any further than that kiss.
DAMIAN WANTED TO SURPRISE MICKI and spend time with her before his road trip. Just the two of them hanging out, having fun, no talk of anything serious. Instead he'd ended up having to invite himself to Yank's party if he wanted to see Micki at all before he left for the week. He'd had to do some fancy talking to get Sophie to let him come.
Hell, he'd had to flat out beg. Damian knew he'd look out for his own sisters the same way. Considering Sophie had threatened to rip his hotshot balls off if he hurt Micki again, Damian considered himself fairly warned.
He’d been prepared for Micki to be wary and he hadn't been disappointed. He'd sensed the war going on inside her as she'd fought not to let herself get close to him, but somehow she'd ended up not only giving in, but treating him to a hot, sensual kiss.
He wasn't stupid enough to think they were picking up where they'd left off on the island and he knew damn well it wouldn't be a good idea. But he could admit to himself that the cold showers he'd been taking since she'd come back into his life just weren't cutting it. He was walking around with a permanent hard-on courtesy of Micki Jordan and that kiss had been an appetizer that had him hungry for more.
Now he and Micki, along with Yank and a curly-haired cream puff of a dog walked into the restaurant. "Morgan party," Yank said to the hostess, using his gruffest, meanest voice.
The young woman's gaze darted from Micki and Damian to Yank and then lower to his pet. "I'm sorry, Mr. Morgan, but there are no dogs allowed. The health code prohibits it," she explained.
"I may be going blind but I ain't deaf and I don't really think you just told me I can't bring my Seeing Eye dog into this establishment."