Page 38 of Manhattan Secret

I have to diffuse whatever bomb he’s set off.

“He doesn’t look at me in any sort of a way, Lachlan. But if he did, that’s my business. Nothing I do is any of your business, okay?”

“Wrong.”

A sigh fills my lungs. Impossible boy.

“God forgive me, but it was good, okay.” I confess in a hushed whisper. “What we did was really good, but it can’t go further than that. You need to go pester girls your own age, not your freaking teacher.”

His eyes flare the moment of my confession and I watch how agitated his breathing becomes. In and out, almost pressing into my chest. “Is that what you want, to see me with other girls, little mouse?”

Ow. Why does that feel like a direct hit to my middle section?

I can’t answer, and Lachlan swoops in, dropping his head an inch to bring his eyes right into my vision. They’re every color of blue I can think of. Oceans and skies looking back at me. Desire and need pulsing through the irises.

Am I a challenge?

Am I a game?

My body doesn’t seem to care.

“Kiss me and I’ll go.”

“Lachlan,” I sigh. Lips already tingling. “That’s not going to help anything.”

“You want rid of me before someone comes in, Laney. Put your mouth on mine and I’ll go.”

Now the gorgeous blackmailing shit smirking at me thinks he’s in control of this situation.

Hell, who am I kidding? He’s played with my strings from the moment we clapped eyes on each other in that bar.

One step forward, pressing up against him to move him out of the way, I soon find out his body is immovable.

Rock solid and warm.

I freeze where I stand, body to body, my motor skills cease working and Lachlan groans, dropping his head another quarter inch to make it simpler for me to grab his lips.

“You need a better hobby,” I advise huskily, looking at him through rose colored horny glasses.

He snickers. “I have one. It’s you.”

One kiss. What can it hurt if it means he leaves me alone?

I push up on my toes and still we are far from being the same height—grasping a hand around the back of his thick neck, he groans at the contact and lets me direct him down. And then…god forgive my immortal slutty soul… I surge forward to crush a hard, closed lipped kiss to his mouth.

His lips are warm, so sweet and feelright.

I’m dizzy, breathless and straining up towards him against my own will—my better judgement. Only the heat and those magnificent lips have any say.

Within seconds, Lachlan lets me know this isn’t the kiss he wants, by licking the seam of my lips, slamming harder until they spring open like little randy moats and he comes inside, rolling his tongue around mine.

I might have stood there a week kissing the face off that boy if he wasn’t the one to come to his senses by drawing back, leaving me blind to anything else but the smell and taste of him all over me.

“See, mouse? Fucking flames. See you soon.”

And he leaves me there, alone.

Horny.

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