Page 81 of The Trouble with Tigers
“But we’re not,” she argued without any heat. “Not really.”
His gaze had not strayed.
Her lips parted of their own accord, a silent demand for his kiss.
“Finally, we’re getting somewhere.” His fingertips skimmed over the curve of one ear, then danced feather light across her cheek. “How are we to convince anyone if you don’t believe yourself?”
She closed her eyes and nibbled at her lower lip.
She heard his soft laugh, then felt his hair tickle her nose as he dipped his head, bringing his mouth to hover over hers.
“For the next several months,” he said, brushing his lips over hers, “you must believe yourself engaged to me. Can you do that, Kitty?”
The best she could do was nod as a desperate hunger tore at her insides. “Please,” she heard herself whisper, a moment before his lips sealed over hers in a hot, drugging kiss.Kitty grasped his hard, broad shoulders and held on for dear life. Combustible heat flooded her veins, burning her from the inside out.
She tugged, urging him closer. Maddeningly, he refused to budge. She wanted his body touching hers, everywhere, and she never wanted him to stop kissing her.
When the tip of his tongue played at the corners of her mouth, her lips parted in a gasp of pleasure.
“That’s it. Let me taste you, sweetheart,” Zeke murmured. When his mouth covered hers again, his tongue slid past her lips.
Tentatively, she touched the tip of her tongue to his.
Delight surged through her as, instantly, his arms banded around her.
Braver now, she traced her tongue over the soft inside of his full lower lip.
His hands coursed over her back, her waist, her nape, the sides of her face, as if he were as desperate to touch and feel all of her as she was desperate for him to do so. Tiny tremors vibrated through him.
She wanted to purr in awe as she recognized her own womanly power over this confusing, seductive, enigmatic lion of a man.
Her arms twined around his neck, her greedy fingers slipping into his thick mane of hair. She kneaded like a kitten, loving the feel of the silken gold.
“Kitty,” Zeke gasped against her lips, and pressed her back into the sofa cushions.
The weight of him felt so good. Still, he wasn’t close enough. She whimpered with a nameless need and arched into him.
He hissed in a breath, and loosed an agonized groan. A moment later his lips left hers, leaving her dazed and oddly desolate.
His face pressed into the curve of her neck like a hot stone, his body heaving with ragged, labored breaths.
“Zeke?” she whispered.
He didn’t respond immediately, and Kitty wondered if he’d heard. Then she felt the scrape of his stubble against the underside of her jaw as he smiled. Though his heart pounded into her chest like a base drum, he pressed a light kiss against the abraded skin and asked in an amused tone, “Yes?”
“Was Garrick watching from the hallway again?”
His shoulders began to tremble, then his entire body shook. A moment later, he pushed himself off of her to balance on his knees. He threw his head back and bellowed with laughter. “Oh, Kitty,” he breathed when his mirth finally subsided. “Was that a serious question?”
She glared up at him from her reclined position on the sofa. “The last time you kissed me, you told me you’d done so to impress Garrick and—”
He shushed her holding one finger to her lips. “No. To my knowledge, we had no audience.”
He unfolded from his kneeling position to sit beside her on the sofa. He reached out to smooth the damp tendrils at her temples, an indulgent smile curving his lips.
“Then why?”
His smile grew cocksure. “Why did I kiss you?”
