My lips twisted in a wry smile. This woman thought she had me figured out. What had she called me? Straight-laced.
I always did love a challenge.
My hand dropped between her thighs—over her jeans, and I cupped her heat, nearly coming undone at the warmth radiating against my skin. “If I had you naked?” I started, running my lips over the piercings that ran down her ear. “I’d lay you back on this table, spread your sweet little thighs, and drape them over my shoulders.” I pressed in with my middle finger, pushing the seam of her jeans against her clit.
She cried out again, her thighs tightening around my hips.
My cock throbbed, but I ignored its demand and concentrated on Echo, moving my lips to her jaw.
“Then, I’d lick and suck at you until you were shaking under me, begging me to come.” I rubbed against her clit, and she whimpered. When she tried to rock forward on her own, I lightened the pressure, keeping her from taking control. Then I pulled back just far enough so I could look in her eyes, so she’d know I meant every word. “Once you were delirious with need, bucking against my mouth, I’d fuck you with my tongue so I could taste you when you came.”
My own game got to me because now that was all I wanted to do.
Her lips parted, her eyes flaring with surprise and something so primal that I almost went for her zipper.
“So, we said a kiss, not seven minutes in heaven!” Connell’s Scottish bur was muffled slightly by the kitchen door.
My gaze shot to the door, and the window in it, but he wasn’t looking in. Good, now I didn’t have to actually kill him.
“Holy shit,” Echo whispered, letting her forehead fall against my shoulder.
I eased my hand from between her thighs and tucked her breast back into her clothing before wrapping my arms around her. “Yeah,” I agreed. Holy shit was about right.
“I guess we should go back out there,” she grumbled.
“Right.” My chest heaved as I tried to calm my breathing. “Just as soon as you let go of my dick.” If she squeezed me one more time we were going to be here way longer than seven minutes.
She gave a little squeak of surprise and then laughed as she released me. “Sorry,” she said with zero apology in her tone or expression.
“I’m not,” I told her. Sorry was the furthest word from my thoughts. Hard, aching, pulsing...those were way closer.
I gripped her waist and lowered her to the tile floor. Her eyes locked with mine, and that tension snapped back into place, hot enough to burn us both to the ground. I quickly put a few feet between us, knowing I’d have her back on that counter in a millisecond if I didn’t get some distance.
Her eyes dropped to my erection, and she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. Then she quickly shook her head and swallowed. “Okay, um, follow me.”
“I might need a minute,” I countered, my voice sounding like I’d just raked it over shards of broken glass.
She marched ahead of me, her distressed jeans cupping her ass so well that I groaned.
“Come on,” she urged, offering me a shaky smile as she looked over her shoulder. “I’ve got you covered. Trust me.”
Well, either she had me covered, or I was about to open myself up to locker room torture for the next five years. I followed her out, and when I cleared the door, she tugged me forward three steps...right against the bar where I was hidden from the waist down.
“Ten! I give it a ten!” Langley called out.
“Eleven!” Harper offered.
“Did you see the way he picked her up? So fucking hot. That’s definitely a twelve!” Faith added from Lukas’ lap.
“Yeah, yeah,” Echo waved them off. If I hadn’t seen the fine tremble in her hand, I would have thought that kiss hadn’t affected her. What else was she good at hiding? How much of that prickly exterior was just armor? “I’m taking Sawyer’s dare,” she announced, pulling the tequila from the shelf. “I’m daring every Reaper in this room—with exceptions”—she sent a pointed look to the guys who didn’t drink—“to get over here and take a shot.” She winked at me, and I dutifully took the shot glasses from beneath the bar and lined them up on the granite as she started to pour.
The guys—and some of their wives—stepped up to take their shots.
“To the newest Carolina Reaper,” Echo toasted, lifting her shot in the air and locking her eyes on mine. “Sawyer McCoy.”
“Sawyer!” the guys shouted.
The tequila slid down my throat, sharp and sweet.
“So this is why you have the bar closed down,” a voice came from behind me.
I turned to see three guys and a girl standing just inside the swinging door. Before I could ask who the fuck they were and why they’d come through the back door, Echo quickly put herself in between us.