Taking her up on her offer made him feel guilty, but it didn’t stop him from accepting. He kept a hand on the small of her back, steadying her when she tripped and launched herself at the door. Taking the key from her, he inserted it and opened the door.
“The bedroom’s through that door. I’ll be right back,” she said and headed for the bathroom.
Six steps took him down the hallway to her bedroom, where a tornado must have touched down recently, because clothes were tossed everywhere. Maddie wasn’t a tidy person. Apparently, she attacked getting dressed as gleefully as she did life. She also had awesome choices in panties. He stepped over the duvet that she’d wadded up and kicked to the floor. He’d bet she was as uninhibited in bed as she was licking whipped cream off his mouth.
Still, he didn’t want to pressure her into anything. She had to make the call about tonight because, God, he was a bastard. He’d stolen her laptop and shadowed her every footstep for days—even if she didn’t know it—and now he wanted to have sex with her? Yeah. Sign him up for the Asshole of the Month Club.
Maddie stepped into the room and his self-control problem was back just like that. It wasn’t just that Maddie was pretty, or that he really liked her. Because she was damn gorgeous and he did. She was Maddie. Liking her was pretty much a given. But she didn’t know he had an ulterior motive for asking her out, or that all this dating stuff wasn’t him. He was just following a script written by a magazine writer, and the ability to carry out directions didn’t make him worthy of having her.
“I should go,” he said brusquely. Off-limits, he reminded himself.
“Stay.” That was his Maddie. Blunt. Sexy. An unstoppable force of nature—although the champagne seemed to have put a dent in her ability to stand straight. She swayed a little and then pressed her palm against the wall to steady herself. She was cute when she was tipsy. Barefoot, she curled her toes into the hardwood, rocking backward as she stared at him, coming to some sort of decision. She’d painted her toenails bright red with little white daisies. That kind of decoration was hard to do, as he knew firsthand because his sisters had roped him into nail-painting duty more than once.
“Are you sure?”
“Two hundred percent.” She blinked at him. “I could make it three hundred percent though, if you’re feeling insecure.”
“Tell me you’re not drunk.”
She blew him a kiss. “I shouldn’t operate heavy machinery at the moment, but I’m not that tipsy. I’ll even make up drink names if it makes you feel better.”
“Yes.” Damn it. He sounded hoarse and more than a little desperate.
“Oh, good.” She launched herself at him. “I thought you’d never give it up.”
9
Ladies, tonight’s the night! That’s all I’m going to say, other than: wish me luck! I’m a woman on a mission and Mr. Fantasy Fodder doesn’t stand a chance. I’m ordering rose petals for the bed and a bottle of champagne (oh, all-inclusive resort! How I love thee!), plus I have what has to be the world’s biggest box of condoms. I am wondering though, how you all handle the pressure of the Wedding Night. I want tonight to be absolutely perfect. I want to blow his mind and be the best lover he’s ever had. Am I overthinking this? Underthinking it? I’m worried the main course will seem boring after all the fun appetizers. Help!
—MADDIE, Kiss and Tulle
“YOU SURE YOU want to play games with me?” Mason’s gruff voice in her ear almost put the brakes on Maddie’s pleasure. Almost, but not quite. Trying to get him into bed had been like racing an iceberg. She’d been getting nowhere fast, but now he wrapped his arms around her, one hand pulling her closer to his muscled chest and the other cupping her butt, and that was a mighty fine answer. He wanted her. He definitely didn’t want to let go. And that made her insides feel molten instead of icy, so maybe there was hope for that iceberg after all.
“You talk too much.”
He stared down at her for a moment, all big, stern man, and then his mouth quirked up. “You’re telling me that I talk too much?”
Picky beast. She slid her hand beneath his shirt. The man had muscles on his muscles, but the rest of him was smooth with just a sprinkling of hair. The pair of dog tags was a nice surprise, too. Winding the chain around her fingers, she tugged him into kissing distance.