Page 37 of Not Your Average Vixen
Ha! He was attracted to her!
It was time to strike while the iron was hot. She gripped the collar of his coat and pulled him in closer.
“This is your warning! Do not derail this wedding. And don’t think I didn’t hear about the strippers!” she hissed, her voice low and deadly.
That sexy smirk pulled across his smug lips. “Tom’s not ready for marriage. I’m his best friend. It’s my job to look out for him.”
“The hell it is. Tom is lucky to have Lori. And news flash! He proposed to her. He’s crazy in love with her,” she shot back.
Soren pinned her with his gaze. “He’s not crazy in love. He’s confused.”
Nearly a breath apart, she wasn’t about to blink. “This wedding is happening. And I have a warning for you.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” he challenged, his breath tickling her lips.
Her pulse thrummed. Her entire body vibrated with frantic energy. It was as if every cell in her body ached for this man’s touch.
“Do not mess with me,Scooter,” she growled, channeling her badass pretend vixen.
“That’s how it’s going to be?” he growled back, that sexy rasp coating each word.
“My way or the highway,Scooter,” she replied with a smirk of her own.
He twisted a lock of her hair between his fingers. “Call me Scooter one more time and see what happens.”
He was playing with her. If he wanted to raise the stakes, that was his funeral.
She tightened her grip on his collar and met those cat-like green eyes head-on. Heat blazed in his eyes, and fire roared through her veins.
It was hardcore vixen time.
She moistened her lips with her tongue, then narrowed her gaze.
“Scooter.”
They hovered there, eye to eye, their breaths mingling. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. It could have been a fraction of a second or, quite possibly, a quarter of a century. But as if a switch had flipped, she tightened her grip on his collar. His hands flew to her face, cupping her cheeks and sending electric sparks down her spine. Her body, which must not have gotten the memo that this slimeball was off-limits, melted into his touch as their mouths came together in an angry, ravenous kiss fueled by lust and loathing.
It was…glorious. Their tongues fought and retreated. Their lips crashed in a frenzy of furious passion.
“I don’t like you,Scooter!” she breathed, then bit his lip.
“I don’t like you either,Birdie!” he said, meeting her bite with one of his own.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, then wove her fingers into his dark shampoo-commercial-ready hair. Endorphins flooded her system in a dizzying state of complete make out mania. She’d never hate-kissed anyone. Before Soren, Scooter, whatever, making out with your adversary seemed like something only idiots did in rom-coms.
She wanted to construct a witty retort. She wanted to tell him just how much of an asshat a person would have to be to go to a wedding with the sole intention of stopping it. The whole “I don’t like you” response reeked of seventh grade. She could do better. But as soon as this man’s lips connected with hers, her brain turned into a gelatinous mound of mush.
He kissed a trail along her jawline, then combed his fingers into her hair, holding her at just the right angle. “This wedding is a mistake,Birdie. And I plan on making damn sure Tom knows it,” he murmured against the sensitive skin below her earlobe.
She tilted her head, her treacherous body welcoming the heat of his touch. “Well,Scooter, unlike you, I put others’ happiness and wellbeing above my own, and that especially includes my little sister. I am ride or die when it comes to her. So, you better not sabotage this wedding!” she threatened, followed by a dirty little sigh, which may have reduced the mafia hitman effect she was going for.
He stilled, and she pulled back, expecting to meet his gaze brimming with contempt or conceit. But something more akin to panic or possibly grief flashed in his green-gold eyes. But before she could blink, he had his asshat glare back. Still, she couldn’t look away.
“Soren, why are you against this wedding?” she whispered, stroking his cheek just as she’d done when she’d left him this morning.
He closed his eyes, rested his forehead against hers, then released a pained sigh.
It didn’t make sense. Tom’s family had welcomed Lori with open arms. Why wouldn’t his best friend feel the same way?
