Page 63 of Mud, Love, and Chemistry

“But you’re afraid of Maya?” I say in a teasing tone.

“No. I’m not afraid,” he bites out. “Just exhausted. She never stops talking.”

I throw my hand over my mouth to muffle the laughter that bursts from me.

“Why is that funny?”

I hold up my finger, signaling I need a second to catch my breath. “I thought I was the only one who felt that way.”

“Well, you’re not.” He folds his arms and leans against the shelves.

“So, what’s your plan? You going to hide out in here all night?”

“No, we’re only hiding until the coast is clear.”

“Ha, no way I’m staying in here with you any longer than I have to.” I take a step toward the door, but Sam doesn’t move. “Excuse me. I’d like to leave now.”

Sam shakes his head. “You’re not leaving until I say so. You’ll blow my cover.”

“Um, try again. I’ll leave when I’m good and ready, which is now.” I lift my cup to twirl it in the air. “I’m going to need a refill soon.”

“There’s juice in here.” His head turns in all directions as is he’s surveying the selves.

“Nope. No way. I’m going to need something stronger if I’m stuck in here with you.”

A flash of hurt graces his face before being replaced with mischief. “I can think of worse company.” His gaze scans my length again, this time lingering on my half-covered chest.

I self-consciously wrap my arms around my middle, but that only emphasizes my cleavage. I drop my arms. “And Maya is that worse company? I really thought you enjoyed her attention.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being flattered by a pretty girl flirting with you.” He runs a hand through his curls. “But being able to hold an intelligent conversation makes all the difference.”

The smolder in his eyes makes my mouth run dry, so I take another drink. I keep drinking until my cup is empty, then turn it upside down. “Time for a refill. Move please.”

“Nope.”

“Sam. Get out of the way.”

“Uh uh.”

I narrow my eyes at him. When I catch his gaze flick down to my chest again, an idea pops into my head. “But Sam...” I purr, pouting my lips and batting my fake lashes. “Please?”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” I exaggerate the syllables, letting my tongue slide between my teeth.

He swallows deeply. “Stop it, Brynn.”

I clasp my hands in front of me and use my biceps to push up my breasts. “Why? You liked it earlier.”

He downs the last of his drink, crushes the cup, and tosses it to the side. With one big step, he closes the gap between us. One of his hands loops around my waist, yanking me to him and making my stomach flip, while the other cups the back of my head.

I drop my cup and splay my hands across his chest, a thrill shooting through me, both from shock and desire.

“I still like it,” he growls before crashing his mouth to mine.

At first, I want to protest, but I quickly fall into a swoon. His kiss is as I remember, tender with notes of passion laced through it. With a moan, I thread one of my hands into his hair, and the other grips onto his muscular shoulder.

As he slowly unzips my costume, the anticipation of his touch builds within me. When he slides his hand along the bare skin of my stomach and up my ribs, I’m on fire, but he’s not done.

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