Whispered Curses

He was hot. Wildly, wickedly hot. And he was looking at me as if he wanted to eat me alive.

Time seemed to slow down. A choice floated before me. I could be the timid, shy girl I always was. I could blush, and run away. I could dream about the amazing hot hunk who seemed to like me.

Or I could take him. Stretching up, I brought my lips near his, signaling precisely what I wanted. His eyes blazed, then his mouth barely brushed against mine. I moved with him, gliding my lips against his in a feather-light tease. We both shuddered, and he held me tighter.

“You’re delicious,” he murmured against my lips.

“You should taste me when I’ve been drinking blue beaches,” I giggled. “My tongue would be blue but I’d taste like sugar.”

“What are you drinking tonight?”

“Tequila.” Then I hiccuped twice.

He laughed, slipping an arm around me to whisper in my ear, “You know, they say that’s the devil’s drink. Let’s get you some water.” He led us to the end of the bar that had a water pitcher, and poured for me.

Although I didn’t require babysitting, it was sweet that he wanted to take care of me. After a half glass of water, and managing to only splash a tiny bit on the front of my rather low cut dress, the hiccups stopped.

I saw his eyes tracking my lips. “What?” I asked. “Did I smudge my lip gloss?” How was I able to speak with him so normally? I was always so timid around men. Oh right, the booze. Tequila is a chatty drink.

Lifting his hand, he cupped my face while running his thumb along my bottom lip. His mouth came closer, as my eyes riveted to those perfect, full lips. Then he swerved to my ear again to breathe, “It’s causing me physical pain to not really kiss you hard right now.”

Wrapping my arm around his back, I press my body against his. My other hand began to wander across his chest, the front of his shoulders. Good grief, he must work out a lot. Or work construction or something. The layers of muscle simply added to his insanely attractive physique.

Looking up into those hypnotic dark eyes, I asked, “Why on earth would a guy as gorgeous as you want to kiss someone like me?”

In my tipsy haze, it was a perfectly reasonable question. But he looked at me like I was nuts.

“Beautiful, I couldn’t think of a single man in this entire place that wouldn’t want you.” He paused. “Okay, I did see two guys dancing close together in the corner. You might not be their type. Ninety-nine percent of the guys at this club would gladly switch places with me.”

Stretching up, I tipped my chin so that our mouths were only an inch apart. “Maybe you should kiss me then, instead of holding yourself back.” I blinked hard, not believing I’d just said that.

His gaze filled with hunger as he stared from my eyes to my lips. “You luscious little temptress,” he smiled. “I know that I’m a bad man, but I can’t take advantage of a drunk girl.”

I raised a finger to tweak his nose. “For the record, I am not drunk. Very slightly tipsy.”

He pulled me tighter, as we began to sway again to the terrible music. “It sounds like you would rather I were a bad man than a good man.”

“Actually,” I said, trying desperately to sound logical, “It would make you a very good man. I am pretty sure that a hard kiss from you

would be healing. Therapeutic.”

His thick eyebrow raised in a smirk. “How so?”

“The last man who kissed me was bad. Very, very bad. Evil, actually. So, you’d be helping to burn him out of my mind. That’s healthy. Right?”

“Mmm, intriguing,” he purred into my ear. Then the tip of his tongue tapped the edge of my earlobe and a deep, hot tremor ran through me. “Tell me, as your new therapist, I need to know how long it’s been.”

“Six months,” I confessed.

“No...” he drawled, staring at me as if I were a buffet and he was starving. Nobody had ever looked at me like that, and it was disturbing how much I enjoyed it. “You could not have been single for six whole months. The vultures would have swooped in.”

I shook my head, then immediately wished that I hadn’t, since a few things were a tiny bit fuzzy around the edges. “No swooping. There has been no swooping at all.”

His hand began stroking my lower back in firm circles as he held me. “Poor little kitten. Have you been lonely?” I nodded carefully.

Cupping my face again, his thumb teased my bottom lip until I could barely hold back a whimper. I’d never needed to kiss a man so badly in my life, and he was going to make me snap if he didn’t do it soon.

“Has this gorgeous little treasure needed some affection?”