Page 69 of No Interest in Love

The words come out of her lips and not three seconds later another dog leaps from nowhere, sporting a pretty large red rocket. Shay and I jump back, both of us falling flat on our asses while Red Rocket gets into position and wastes no time pushing Ms. Heat against the glass.

Ar, ar, arroooo!

The dogs pound against the glass door, shaking the bell on the knob. I lean up on my elbows, glancing at Shay with a raised eyebrow. She looks back at me.

“I th-think,” I stutter, “I think you’re right.”

And she laughs.

I mean, a bolting laugh. It’s not silent or suppressed or one of those she uses to humor me. It’s the most gorgeous sound in the world. It drowns out the banging and clanging and howling. It lifts the corners of her mouth, shows me her teeth, creates lines near her beautiful eyes, and next thing I know, my hand finds the back of her neck and I push my lips flush against hers.

She’s cold. The hair tangled in my fingers is still damp from her shower, her cheeks chilled, and her mouth like ice. The smallest touch of her hand taps my wrist and squeezes at my pounding pulse.

I should probably break away. But I’m feeling her lips melt, her cheeks warm under my thumbs.

I suddenly have a million kisses Ihaveto give to her.

Three million.

Like they were reserved for this moment right here, not for the countless lips I saw in my future but for the lips that own the most gorgeous laugh I’ve ever heard.

And it scares the hell out of me.

My mouth leaves hers with a heavy sigh that comes from deep in my gut. I’m not sure if what I’m feeling is guilt or embarrassment oramazement, but it takes me a few seconds before I can let go of her neck.

She’s looking at me like she has no clue what just happened, and I wish I could tell her. All I know is that it felt good. That I want more, but I’m not surehow much more. She swallows hard, eyes darting to her shaking hand on my wrist. I realize then that she’s not sure how much she wants either. Or if she even wants it.

“Shit,” I say, untangling from her. I rest my elbow on my knee and cover my eyes because I’m a damn coward. She should leave. Run as far and as fast as she can from me—the asshole. Shay deserves commitment, someone who’s sure of themselves. As soon as the humping dogs are out of the way we’ll go to our separate rooms and I’ll make wishes for a time machine to go back and erase my lapse in judgment.

But the thought of that bludgeons me in the chest.

Then a slightly cold touch on my wrist makes me drop my hand, and I lock eyes with her for two seconds before her lips come crashing down on mine.

They’re still cold, but her tongue…

Her tongue is blazing hot.

And it’s in my mouth.

I push her back, lock eyes with her again, silently asking her if she really wants this, because I’m not even sure if I do.

She gives me a barely-there nod.

I grab at her neck while she grabs at mine and we fight for each other’s tongues. She pushes me to my back, yanking my hands from her face and pinning them to the floor. Her stomach falls flush with mine, and it’s hard. Firm. Surprising…

I thought she’d be fragile and softeverywhere, but she’s not. She’s better. She’s a soft woman who is fighting me for control, clawing to get closer, relentless in her quest for satisfaction. It makes me want to fight back, claw back, be as rough and as anxious as I’m feeling. I manage to get out of her firm hold, swinging her around, pinning her with my hips to the floor. She rips her hands out of my grasp, scrapes her nails through my hair, and yanks on the endshard—making sure I don’t go anywhere, but I’m not goinganywhere. I don’t think I want to go anywhere ever again. Screw leaving the ice machine. Screw going back to separate rooms. Hell, screw the audition.

She makes a throaty noise and I realize how hard my fingers are digging into her ass. I loosen my hold and run my hand up that ugly, adorable shirt, clutching what I know is her tattoo. My lips make a hard path across her jaw and down her neck, and she arches for me to get better access. Then she shivers and flexes under me, her knees trapping my leg between hers.

Woody’s getting anxious. He’s urging my hips forward, trying to find the soft spot on Shay before we both get our heads back on. He’s relentless, the horny bastard. Nudging me forward when I know I shouldn’t. And like he hears me yelling at him to back off, he stretches harder, causing months’ worth of pain that I just want to get rid of in the best way possible.

Shay’s fingers tug on my hair again, pull my lips back to hers for one wet, hot kiss, before she breaks it.

And she bites into my shoulder.

I blink, gasp, grunt, and try to see, because I’m pretty sure I just blacked out.

When I come to, Woody has taken over. And he’s not stopping.

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