Page 17 of Blame It On Midnight

For all of one second, he thought of pulling away, but then she groaned, or maybe it was him. Whoever it was, the sound was animalistic. It was real, it set his blood on fire. It expanded this thing between them. Encircled the two of them whole, and he was helpless to stop it. So he didn’t.

He grabbed her by the hips and moved her up against the wall, then smiled and dipped his head for another taste. He was done playing games.

Maybe he was done being scared.

Chapter Six

Collins was losing her mind. She had to be.

An hour ago, she was so angry with this man that she wanted to throat punch him. Toss words that hit like stones or pierced like a knife. She wanted to make him feel as bad as she’d felt when he’d rejected her in that barn.

And now he was kissing her like he was a man on fire. Like he was dying of thirst, and she was what he needed to survive. Like he hadn’t eaten for days and she was his sustenance. She could go on and on, because Good Lord, the man could kiss.

She thought she’d had the best of it in Nashville, but now she knew she was wrong. That was an appetizer. Never in her life had she been so thoroughly tasted. And it included that one time in Paris, and the chef who liked to dribble chocolate, then lick it up. This was next level. Romance book worthy. A toe-curling kind of thing, that had her panting for more before he’d barely begun.

“Damn, but you taste good.” Benton nuzzled her neck, and she sighed, leaning back so he had full access to her neck and chin and mouth and anything else he wanted. She threaded her hands in his hair and held him close, heart pounding a mile a minute, blood liquid fire.

His hands were up and down her body, fingers pressing here, palms caressing there. And the whole time, his mouth ravaged her. Could a girl die of heat and desire? Could she melt into a puddle of mush and still survive?

“Jesus, Benton,” she breathed, breath caught.

“There’s no room for him,” he growled, trailing his mouth along her jawline.

“Get a room!”

The words came from the dark, along with a good amount of laughter, and she felt Benton’s muscles bunch beneath her hands. He moved his body to shield her from prying eyes, something she’d think on later. Chest heaving and breaths coming fast, the two of them came up for air. Slowly, she lifted her head and met his hooded gaze directly.

It was visceral. The way her body and mind reacted to this man. Is this what it meant to imprint on someone? Was he the lone wolf she’d never forget?

“I don’t want this,” he said, his words slow and measured despite the rapidly beating heart at her fingertips.

In another time and place, those words would hurt. But not tonight. “I don’t think that matters because you feel this thing too,” she said, pressing forward for one more kiss. He didn’t resist, and she swept her mouth across his. Her body ached in places that needed some love and care, but she’d deal with that later. Right now, she had to make a point.

Collins kissed him lightly, then slowly pulled back, ignoring the throb between her legs and the handsome man who stood between them. Her breast was exposed, and she bit her tongue when he gently pulled her top back into place, though his fingers grazed the nipple. Could have been accidental, but she was guessing it was deliberate.

She watched him for a few moments until she felt that she could talk without sounding like an idiot. “I didn’t come all this way to turn tail and run, Benton. I came to Big Bend because I can’t stop thinking about the night we shared in Nashville.”

“It wasn’t a night,” he replied, voice coated in whiskey. “It was straight up sex, and it was supposed to be anonymous.”

“That’s very true.” She took a beat and slowly exhaled because she had to get this right. “If you can tell me that you haven’t thought of me since that night, I’ll leave. If you can swear that this kiss we just shared didn’t rock your entire world, I’ll leave. If you can say that you’re not lonely, that you’re not searching for that one thing to fill this hole inside you.” She pressed her hands against his chest. “The same hole I have, then I’ll hop on a plane tomorrow and take the job in Bali my agent is pushing for.” He swore, and the blood in her veins was so loud, she heard nothing else.

Benton glanced away and rubbed at the hair on his jaw. But he stayed silent. He didn’t deny her questions. Didn’t offer up anything else either.

“That’s what I thought,” she replied softly. She took another step and sucked in some fresh air, then glanced over her shoulder. “I’m sticking around Big Bend.”

“It’s a free country.”

“Yes. It is.” She put one foot on the bottom step. “When you go home tonight and the darkness covers you whole, it’s my face you’ll see. My lips you’ll dream of. And when I go back to Duffer’s Place and crawl into my bed, naked, it’s your hands I’ll feel on my body. This thing between us won’t go away. I know that now.”

“You don’t know shit,” he said, voice rough. “You’re barely out of high school.”

She smiled. “You’re pulling at straws now. And for the record, I got my high school diploma when I was sixteen. I’m not just a pretty face. I’ve seen and done more than most women ten years older than me, so don’t talk to me like I’m a child. I’m a grown woman, and you want me. Lucky for you, I feel the same way. That kind of connection doesn’t come along often in this life.” Something lit inside her, stoked by the devil on her shoulder. She smiled, a wicked sort of thing. “I’ll see you around, Benton.”

She walked up the steps and didn’t look back.

The bar was loud, and the energy was rowdy. The band had kicked into high gear, and she joined Jo behind the bar. She felt ragged. Like she’d just run a marathon.

“My God, I thought you left,” the bartender said, before tossing over three empty jugs. “Table four needs these. The domestic on tap.”

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