Page 102 of Up in Smoke

“Were you going to say maybe?”

I ignore his question because how am I supposed to speak when he unbuckles his belt and pulls it off with one hand? It’s borderline pornographic. My eyes drift down, and I attempt to x-ray vision my way to seeing his abs.

“Or were you going to say yes?”

“I’m not sure,” I lie. “I was just thinking it over for a second.”

“That’s a shame,” he sighs. “Take your time, honey. But I can’t do what I want to do until you give me an answer.”

My hand covers the side of my neck. What does he want to do?

I’m still not used to seeing him in a formal suit. It’s well-fitted, though, and I stare at the way his tight shirt tapers down toward his narrow hips. I wonder if he has any idea how cruel it is to be that downright seductive without even trying.

“What if Ididsay maybe?”

He removes the bowtie under his collar. “I’d kiss you goodnight. Let you be the big spoon while we go to sleep.”

I almost break out in a celebratory dance. He’s always claiming the big spoon position. This is a tough opportunity to turn down. Still, my thoughts drift to what we’d be doing if I said yes. I’m blinking slower now, and I watch every deft movement of his fingers closely.

“Okay. And what if I said yes?” My heart races as he unbuttons his shirt. “What would you do?”

He leans forward with a fearless smirk. I track the space between us disappearing inch by inch. Once his mouth is close to my ear and I can no longer see his face, he lowers his voice to a whisper.

“Guess.”

My hands are screaming to reach out and touch him. Grab and hold onto what’s mine, once and for all.

He lifts his head enough to study my reaction. Tingles prick the surface of my skin as I look into his hazel eyes. I’ve seen every version of them, from bloodshot tears to radiant joy. Right now, they’re drenched in lust, and I have a feeling that mine look the exact same.

I take a wild guess. “Remove my dress?”

“That’s a given.”

“Put your mouth on me?”

He hums a moan and lifts his hand to trail across the lines of my collarbone. The thought of him exploring me with his lips and tongue again is enough to make me light-headed.

“More,” he nearly growls.

His fingers gravitate to my shoulder, hooking a dress strap and pulling it down. He does the same on the other side until I’m gripping the tight bodice and forcing it over my hips and straight to the floor.

“More,” I repeat his promise, desperately encouraging him to keep going.

The impatience in my voice is the opposite of his movements—like he’s taking his time to savor each and every touch. I’m frantic beneath the surface while he unhooks my strapless bra, tosses it toward the closet, and then slides my panties down.

I step out of them with no hesitation. The brim of his hat teases the side of my neck when he bends to hook an arm around my waist. We’re close to the bed, and it only takes one quick lift and turn to place me down again.

My fingers clutch the comforter on either side of my thighs. I look up—breathless, fully naked, and mesmerized as he finishes unbuttoning his dress shirt.

Bare chest and abs, slick felt cowboy hat still on his head, sinfully fitted slacks hanging just below the deep V of muscle at his waist . . . I’m about to launch myself toward him when he lowers himself to his knees in front of me.

Jackpot.

I smile as he brackets my hips with his hands and yanks me toward him until I’m barely sitting on the edge of the bed. There’s going to be a matching set of faint imprints on the top of my ass tomorrow with the way his hands dig ruthlessly into my flesh.

“If you say yes, I’m going to fuck you, Mesa.”

My focus is split between the image of him ravaging me completely and the wetness between my legs. I let his pledge hang in the air between us. He’s cunning in a way that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to resist. It’s a wonder any womaneverhas.

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