Page 27 of Claim to Fame

Watching the way her skin flushed pink, that’s what.

She laughed. “You remember correctly. I still can’t believe you were interested in me that night. I must have looked ridiculous.”

“You looked beautiful. And only a little ridiculous. The Dockside makes a great milkshake. We can go for milkshakes tomorrow.” He set a glass in front of her. “But that is the best chocolate milk you’ll ever have.”

She eyed the drink skeptically. “Looks like ordinary chocolate milk to me.”

He raised an eyebrow in challenge and took a sip from his own glass, his eyes locked with hers the entire time. A blush crawled up her throat and his body hummed in recognition. He was fairly certain that if he kissed her, she’d let him. More than that, she’d kiss him back.

Stop. You’re not supposed to be kissing her.

Why does she have to be so goddamn kissable?

He set his glass down on the counter and waited for her to drink. She rolled her eyes, the corners of her lips tugging up into a smile, and took a sip from her glass. “Oh my God.” Her eyes fell closed. “Why is that so good?” she moaned, the sound going straight to his cock.

“It’s Tessa’s chocolate sauce. She adds espresso powder and I don’t even know what else.”

“You win. That is the best chocolate milk I’ve ever had.”

He leaned his forearms on the counter between them so his eyes were level with hers. “What exactly do I win?”

The air between them hummed with the electricity of three years’ worth of one-night stands, three years of meetings that ended with her writhing beneath him, screaming his name.

But that couldn’t be the way things worked anymore, not when she was publicly involved with another man. Some boy band punk who had publicly humiliated her and left her to deal with the fall out. It was hard to maintain those boundaries when she was sitting in his kitchen, though, her bare feet dangling from the bar stool, her eyes hooded as they roamed his face.

“What do you want?” she asked.

Your thighs around my head. Your taste on my tongue.

Not helpful.

“What happens after two drinks?”

She blinked, the lust clearing from her expression as she processed his question. “After two drinks, I tend to make decisions that aren’t very good for me.”

“What kinds of decisions?”

She hesitated, then took another sip of her milk. Finally, “That information will cost you more than chocolate milk.”

“Yeah? And what is ityouwant, sweetheart?” he asked, leaning closer and taking a sip of his own milk, watching her over the rim of his glass.

Her eyes dropped to his lips, and she got to her feet. “You have some chocolate…”

She swiped a stray bead of chocolate from the corner of his mouth with her thumb and he grabbed her wrist, holding her there for a moment, feeling her pulse jump beneath his fingers. He could kiss her. God, he wanted to.

He let her wrist fall from his hold and dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans, balling them into fists to keep himself from grabbing her again.

Like a freaking caveman. She came here to get away, to feel safe, and you’re grabbing her like you have a right to.

Hannah held his gaze as she lifted her thumb to her own mouth, sucking it between her lips to lick the chocolate from her finger. Heat seared down his spine, gathering in his groin with a demanding pulse as he tracked the flick of her tongue, the scrape of her teeth, over the soft pad of her thumb.

“Ethan…”

He stumbled back a step, even though every part of him was screaming to get closer. He wanted to lift her onto the counter and kiss her until she remembered how good they were together, until all the tension in the lines of her forehead was replaced by the soft, languid expression of a woman who had been well pleasured.

After two drinks, I tend to make decisions that aren’t very good for me.

He took a step back, dumping the rest of his milk down the sink so he wouldn’t have to look at her while embarrassment clawed its way through his stomach. She was a guest in his home, a woman in need of sanctuary. And she’d already rejected him once, mere days ago. The sting of it still prickled at the back of his neck.

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