Page 22 of Mister Rival

Sexy, sexy Tristan Lucas that I hate.

Shit. I must really be smashed. It doesn’t stop my eyes being glued to his mouth, where I can only imagine a whole new world awaits there. The things he could do with those lips and that tongue…

“How was it?”

It’s only then I realize I’m pulling a face, and it’s because of my slightly delayed reaction to the awful shot I just consumed. “Umm?—”

He laughs as I watch his eyes dip to my lips while I lick them clean. I still shudder from the taste which seems to amuse him even more. “The look on your face tells a story.”

“Let’s go another!” I announce with unadulterated enthusiasm. Clearly I’ve lost any kind of plot I may have been holding onto.

“I think we better pace ourselves,Ali Archer.”

“A night cap then?” I suggest with a waggle of my eyebrows. “Do you think you can drink me under the table,Tristan Lucas?”

His lips twitch again in that cheeky smile he’s been sporting for most of the evening. “Oh honey, if you knew what I could do under the table, you wouldn’t be still sitting here with me.”

My head whips around to stare at his profile. His deep blue eyes dance with amusement. I think he enjoys teasing me. My kryptonite? Him throwing in some unexpected innuendo just to shock me.

“Ooh, where would I be?” I prod him in the chest. His eyes trail down to my finger, still pressing into him. Is it just me, or is he scorching hot wearing that tux? Though, he’d look good wearing a paper bag.

Then those sapphire blue eyes shift… to that slit in my dress? It’s an inch of a second, but if I’m not mistaken, he’s checking me out. Big time.

“If you were anyone else, you’d be in bed wrapped around me.”

I gasp at his words and surety. “If I was anyone else?”

“Someone who didn’t hate me,” he teases.

“Nonsense! I don’thateyou. Okay, we’ve had our differences, and you can be annoying — especially when you think you have the upper hand. I’m sure it’s a tradeoff. You can’t be perfect at everything and still look good in a three-piece suit?” I can’t seem to stop my overflowing blabbermouth. Okay, I’m one tequila away from completely losing my mind. If that happens, all filters, inhibitions, and anything else this respectable mother, champion PTA coordinator and successful realtor will go by the wayside, at least for tonight.

And in any case, why can’t I have a good time just because I am all those things? Is there some law against single moms witha career who’ve been cheated on saying we have to wallow in self-pity forever?

“I bet your tongue works just as good as your negotiating skills,” I throw in, just in case he missed the flirt.

He chuckles darkly, and it ignites every sense in my body. The fact that he denies nothing makes me ache in places I thought were closed for business. “You’re a pistol.” He leans closer to my ear. “And I like that mouth.”

I roll my lips, but he says nothing more. I swear I can hear the beating of both our hearts as I try to control my ragged breathing.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, Lucas.” I walk my fingers up his arm toward his tie again, and give it a tug. Leaning into him, on the edge of my seat, I let my hand skate around his neck, my lips seeking more of his warmth. He turns his head at just the right time to catch my lips.

It’s only to show my ex,I keep telling myself.And I’m a little drunk.

The salt, the lime and the tequila still lingers on his mouth as he presses the kiss into me. It’s long, drawn out, sexy and just a little dark. It’s like there is no one else in the room, but in reality, it’s full of our old classmates staring.

“Is this still for show?” he mutters against my mouth without breaking our contact.

I can’t tell anymore myself. All I know is that I can’t seem to get close enough to him, and his kiss is illicit. It’s so good, it should be illegal.

“What do you want it to be,Lucas?”

Chapter Eleven

TRISTAN

The caveman in me wants to scoop her up, fling her over my shoulder and get her upstairs pronto to my suite. I haven’t been able to stop my wild thoughts about ravaging her gorgeous little body, or how sweet she would taste, since the second I walked into this reunion.

And now I’m at a crossroads. We’ve had a few drinks. We’re both getting touchy and we can’t keep our mouths off one another. I meant it, I don’t know if we’re still faking it or not, and the bigger part of me wants her to mean it. She ignites something in me that I thought was dead and gone.

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