“But you want me to kiss you,” he said, plucking my glass from my tightened fingers and placing it on the table behind him alongside his.
I couldn’t argue—I wasn’t a liar.
“The blush across your cheek . . .”
He stood right in front of me, so close I could feel the heat rolling off his body. He reached behind me and pulled my hair free from the tie, slowly, deliberately as if he was savoring some kind of transformation. “The way your nipples tighten when I’m close. The way your pussy is aching right now . . . it all tells me how much you want me to kiss you.”
I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth and glanced at my feet. I couldn’t move, couldn’t contradict the dirty things he was saying. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was right, or because his words were just so damn filthy, but I couldn’t remember ever being so turned on by a man who’d barely touched me.
His thumb swept across my bottom lip, coaxing it free of my teeth, then
he tilted my head up to face him. He stared into my eyes intently as if he were communicating, telling me he’d stop if that was what I wanted.
But I didn’t.
I wanted to forget he was a guest and I was a stewardess.
I wanted to forget I was putting my job on the line at that precise moment.
I wanted him to kiss me.
He stepped forward, his thighs scraping against my hips as he cupped my face in his hands, sweeping his thumbs across my cheekbones.
I sank against his body, needing more of him, desperate for his lips on mine. He sighed and closed his eyelids lazily before pressing his lips to mine. My skin began to buzz. I wasn’t sure if it were in warning or pleasure, but either way, I didn’t care. I was right where I wanted to be, selfishly enjoying the man in front of me. He snaked his arm around me, pressing his huge palm into the small of my back, pulling me against him.
I opened my mouth with a groan and he slipped his tongue into my mouth. He tasted masculine, like heat and earth, as if he was the center of everything, and at that moment he was. He was solid. I could trust him. He’d look after me and protect me and a long-buried part of myself burst into relief. My knees buckled, but he kept me upright. His arms felt as if they were exactly where they were meant to be—around me.
I’d kissed men before—of course I had—but I wasn’t sure I’d ever been kissed, not like this, not with Hayden’s possessive, perfect way.
I slid my hands up his chest, heat against heat, his heartbeat hammering against my palm. He pulled back for a second, narrowed his eyes and dived to my neck, pressing kisses into the dip between my collarbone, then trailing up, nipping and sucking before pulling away again, looking at me as if I was some kind of prize he’d never thought he would win and didn’t think he deserved, then hungrily found my lips again.
He was right, my pussy was tight and hot. I arched my body against him, trying to give it some peace. He moaned into my mouth, grabbing my ass, sliding his hand down the back of my thigh and raising my leg as he pressed his erection against my belly.
The heat between us winched up, higher and higher, with no telling when or if it would stop or explode.
My sounds were getting louder and I knew I needed things to stop before . . . before I became incapable. I couldn’t lose control. I was so close to not caring about anything but this moment, about anyone except Hayden and me.
The breeze carried laughter from a nearby yacht, echoing into the quiet night now the fireworks had stopped. If we could hear them, could they hear us, see us?
I pushed my hand against his chest and he pulled back, looking me right in the eye. I shook my head. “We have to stop this.” I wanted him to keep kissing me. I wanted to feel the heat coursing through my body for just a few more minutes, but I had to end this now.
“But you don’t want me to stop,” he murmured, scraping his scruff-covered cheek against mine.
“You’re right. I don’t,” I whispered, need spreading across my skin, but I managed to resist him and stepped back, out of his arms. “But I need to go.” I should never have come up here. I knew it would lead to trouble, however sweet it might feel in the short term. It was too risky. There was too much at stake. My brother’s care and my career were never going take second place to any man. But the choice had never felt so difficult, had never stung quite so painfully, as it did when I turned away from Hayden Wolf.