"Liar." He stops directly in front of me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body. "Your pupils are dilated. Your breathing's shallow. And I'd bet money that if I put my hand between your legs right now, you're flowing about as hard as my brother Jack's river during spring thaw."
What did he just say to me?
"That's..." I swallow hard, trying to ignore the fact that his assessment is correct, if not a bit dramatic. "That'scompletelyinappropriate."
My voice is breathy, my lungs burning like I’ve just run a marathon.
"So is the way you keep looking at my mouth."
Shit. He's right about that too.
"This is insane," I whisper. "It was the champagne’s fault. We barely know each other."
"I know plenty." His hand comes up to cup my jaw, thumb brushing across my lower lip in a gesture that's becoming familiar. "I know you're brilliant and brave and completely out of your element. I know you respond to me telling you what to do and when to do it. And I know that what happened between us last night wasn't some champagne-fueled mistake you're going to forget about. Am I right? And, don’t lie. I’ll know."
"It wasn't," I admit sure he’s telling the spot on truth about the lying thing. .
"Good." His thumb presses my lip into my bottom teeth, and I have to fight the urge to suck it into my mouth. "Because I meant what I said. You're mine. Three days in the wilderness is just going to make that more obvious."
"This is crazy," I breathe, but I don't pull away from his touch.
"You said that already and you’re probably right." His mouth curves in a smile that's equal parts dangerous and devastating. "You worried you can't handle a little crazy?"
The challenge in his voice sparks something defiant in my chest. I've been handling advanced coursework since I was seven years old. I've been managing academic pressure and social awkwardness and being the youngest person in every room for as long as I can remember.
I can handle one wilderness survival instructor, no matter how he makes me feel.
"I can handle it," I hiss, lifting my chin.
"We'll see." He steps back, putting distance between us that feels both like relief and loss. Then his eyes sharpen. "Speaking of handling things... you put your credit card number down for your deposit."
I blink at the sudden shift. "Yes? Is that a problem?"
"New policy. Cash only. Or the barter system." His voice has gone darker, more dangerous.
"I... Um… I don't have that much cash on me," I say, confused.
"Good girl," he says, the words sending little sparks of pure dopamine flowing through my veins. He moves closer again, backing me against the display until I'm trapped between hiking boots and his large frame. “Barter it is then.”
My breath catches. "I... don’t have anything to barter with."
"Oh, baby, you have plenty, trust me. But just for the deposit?" His hand comes up to trace my jawline. "It's between your legs. And I'm going to collect it with my tongue."
“No, wait…” Heat floods through me so fast I actually sway on my feet. "Here? Now?"
My voice sounds a little too eager, even to me. The cascade of pleasure from his fingers last night overriding everything else in my practical decision-making centers.
He grins. "Right here. Right now. Unless your pussy's going to start spitting out hundred-dollar bills. In which case, I'll still be collecting them with my mouth."
I should protest. This is totally inappropriate. Probably sexual harassment. I should pull out my phone and call the cops, call my parents, transfer money, find an ATM... Do anything except stand here with my heart hammering and my muscles clenching wondering how a tongue feels lapping up hundred-dollar bills from between my legs.
"I—I don't think..."
"Good girl, time for you to stop thinking." His hands are already at my waist, pushing me back against a shelf full of folded flannel shirts. "Spread your legs for me, Marley."
"Someone could see," I protest weakly, as I meet each of his forward steps with my backwards ones.
"Door's locked. Sign's flipped. If they see, I’ll take their eyes out later. No one gets to see you like this but me." He works at the button of my hiking pants, his movements efficient and sure."And I need my payment. When you come on my mouth, we have a deal. You're gonna pay me with your pleasure, baby."