Reveal Me, Sir (Doms of Decadence 9)

“Let’s get you to your apartment,” he said.

“I know the way.” She shoved out her hand, determined to put some distance between them. “Thanks for driving us home.”

He looked down at her hand and smiled. Then he grabbed it. But instead of shaking it, he pulled it up to his mouth and kissed the back of it.

She stared at him for a moment. “What . . . what the fuck was that?”

She tried to tug her hand out of his hold, but he didn’t let go, instead he pulled her close. She fell into him, and he gently wrapped his arms around her. “That was a prel

ude to this.”

He dropped his mouth to hers, kissing her gently. She murmured something, probably telling him what a prick he was, but he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, and she melted against him.

He kissed her softly, slowly. When he wrapped his arms around her and she snuggled closer. Then she sealed things when she hugged him back. Oh, yeah, he’d known this attraction wasn’t all one-sided.

He cupped the side of her face and drew his mouth back. He stared down into her beautiful hazel-colored eyes. “Damn, you’re gorgeous.”

Her gaze narrowed. She pulled back. He let her go. Reluctantly.

“You don’t have to make up lines just to get in my pants.”

“I don’t?”

“Nope. I’d prefer you didn’t. It turns me off.”

It didn’t surprise him she didn’t know how beautiful she was. If he’d had the time, he might have worked to address her misconceptions.

But he didn’t have time. He’d finish this job and head back to Dallas.

Fuck. This was not where the night was meant to go. He’d intended to drive her home, lay down the law about following orders and not running towards trouble. He wasn’t supposed to be kissing her. He certainly wasn’t supposed to be thinking about where things could go from there.

“And what if it was the truth?”

She snorted. “Yeah, right. Whatever. I’m going home now. Do not follow me.”

He fell into step beside her. She sighed—loudly. He grinned. She was damn funny.

“You’re not going to let me go home on my own, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Have you always had these stalker urges? You should really see someone about them.”

Oh, no. He wasn’t going to put up with that. He reached out and grabbed her arm.

“What did you just say to me?” He lowered his voice, the disapproval in it clear.

She glanced up into his face then looked down.

“Do you really believe I would stalk you? Follow you around without your permission? Are you trying to tell me I forced that kiss on you? That you didn’t want it?”

He’d soon find out if she was a liar. Like Greta.

“Damn you. Of course, I’m not. But that doesn’t mean that it was a good idea. Or that it will happen again.”

It was pretty much the same thing he’d just been thinking. Yet he felt the ridiculous urge to argue with her. Instead he just followed her down to her apartment. “Also doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with you knowing where I live. I don’t know you.”

“Very wise of you.”