Page 15 of Body Shot

“Here’s how hot I think you are.” He turns and sets his ass against the edge of a desk, tugging me closer. My breath catches in my throat as my body nears his, close enough to feel his heat. His gaze lands on my mouth and my skin flashes hot from my hairline to my toes. “I’m not a scientist, but I know a little something about explosives.”

“Oh yeah?” My voice comes out breathy and I set my fingertips lightly on his chest.

“Yeah. Chemical.” He bends his head and brushes his lips over mine. “Biological.” He kisses me again. “Nuclear.”

“Um, wow. That seems pretty extreme for a bartender.” I gaze up at him wide-eyed. My hands flatten on his chest as he pulls me closer to him, between his spread thighs. His heart thuds against my palm. He smells amazing, a crisp, woodsy, spicy scent, and I want to press my nose to the skin of his throat and breathe him in. “I don’t think Flaming Sambucas are that explosive.”

His chuckle is low and sexy in his throat as his hands close tighter over my hips. “Nope.”

5

BECK

She thinks I’m a bartender.

Well, I am. A lot of the time. I discovered an affinity for tending bar that has more to do with my enjoyment of socializing than it does with mixing drinks, although I’ve learned a lot about mixing drinks over the last year since we bought the bar. It isn’t rocket science. Nor is it locating, identifying, neutralizing, and disposing of ordnances like sea mines, torpedoes and depth charges, which I’ve been pretty damn good at.

But it is a helluva lot of fun.

So is this—holding this sweet, sexy woman in my arms, tasting warm, spicy tequila on her soft lips, flirting with her, coaxing her to let go of her inhibitions. I’m good at that too, which is excellent for increasing our female business. I don’t usually drag women into the back to kiss them, though. The heat between me and Hayden has definitely been combustible.

Is still combustible. Holy hell. It took me by surprise, because the other day when she bounced off that signpost and I caught her, I noticed she was pretty and had great legs, but she’d been flustered and all buttoned up in a modest shirt and skirt. Tonight, she looks way different, showing lots of smooth skin in that skimpy top, her hair down with messy curls around her face that make me think of sex hair . . . yet the shy, serious look in her eyes is the same.

She intrigues me. Her earnest questions about tequila, her focus on the tasting as if she’s going to be tested on what she’s learned, the tidy notes she’s made . . . so damn cute. She’s clearly smart, and apparently more serious about tequila than Marco is. And sure, this is about learning something, but it’s supposed to be fun too.

It seems like she just needs a little nudging to edge over from the intellectual world she lives in to the physical one. To just using her senses to enjoy the tequila.

And maybe to enjoy another kind of physical pleasure.

I watch her tongue slick over her bottom lip, her gaze focused on my mouth. She wants to be kissed. And I’m going to do it. My dick throbs behind my fly and with my hands on her hips, I ease her closer still until she presses against me. Her fingers flex on my pecs and her breathing changes as she feels my erection. Her eyelashes flutter, lowering, and I dip my head and find her mouth with mine.

Christ. My blood rushes south, leaving my head empty. The spice of the tequila mingles with her own sweet taste and I let my tongue touch her bottom lip, gently, lingering . . . when she groans, I open my mouth and take hers in a deeper kiss. Her hands slide up to my shoulders and grip my T-shirt, and she presses her breasts to my chest and her lower belly against my erection.

“Jesus,” I mutter, then kiss her again, licking into her mouth. Our tongues meet and she makes a soft moaning sound that has my dick twitching. Her fingers slide around the back of my neck and tease the sensitive skin there. Tingles course down my spine and the backs of my thighs.

I drag my open mouth down the side of her neck, lick over her collarbone, then kiss the top of one breast just above the sexy top she wears. I skim my lips over the top of her shoulder, pushing one skinny strap aside.

Another soft sound of pleasure rises in her throat, making me even harder. My hands slide up from her hips, beneath the loose top, curving around her waist and holding her as I ravish her mouth. Her skin is velvet beneath my rough hands, and I can’t resist sliding them higher. When I encounter bare breasts, heat flashes through my veins. “Oh, man,” I groan against her lips, then nip at her plump bottom one. “These sweet tits were bare under here the whole time.”

My body burns as I fill my palms with perfect, soft flesh tipped with hard nipples. My mouth waters with the need to taste. Hayden’s head falls back and her chest pushes forward as I palm her breasts, gently squeezing and rubbing. Sweet Jesus, there is nothing like the feel of a woman’s tits in my hands, so warm and lush and pliant. They rise and fall with her shuddering breaths, turning me on even more. And apparently turning her on too, judging by her response.

Wow,” she moans. “I feel so . . .”

“So what, baby?” I lick her bottom lip.

“So . . . hot.”

“Mmm. Me too. Look at you, sexy girl, all flushed and panting. Are you aching?”

“Yes. Oh God, yes. Right between my thighs.”

I groan. “Christ.”

I lift her and insert my thigh between hers. She gasps and holds on tighter. Deliberately I press my thigh into her pussy. Through our jeans, I can feel how hot and damp she is. A moan leaks from her lips and she moves against me. I know that movement, and what she’s seeking. Heat blasts through my body as I caress her breasts again and rock my quadriceps into her soft warmth.

“Oh yeah,” she pants, riding my thigh. “Oh, my God, that feels good.” Her head falls back. “Want more . . .”

My breathing stops and my body goes still. “Yeah?”

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