7
I PULLED OUT of Hunt’s grasp as a laugh rumbled deep in his chest.
“Just for that, funny guy … you’re buying.”
Our drinks arrived, and I raised an eyebrow at him in a challenge. While he stood to pay, I stole his barstool. It was both bizarre and empowering to be in a completely normal setting like a bar, but in a completely abnormal outfit that wasn’t much of an outfit at all. But I wasn’t complaining. It gave me the chance to get a good look at Hunt and his beautiful back—sculpted in muscles and cloaked in tan skin. My military suspicions were confirmed by the USMC tattoo above his right shoulder blade. It was a lesson in self-control, tracing the letters with my eyes but not my hands.
He turned to face me, drinks in hand, and I didn’t even bother pretending like I wasn’t ogling him.
He was ogle-able. And he knew it.
A laughing Jen leaned over and clinked her glass with mine, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Hunt.
Jen whispered in my ear, “Not that you would know it, Miss Distracted, but Operation Tau is going very well.”
“Sounds good.”
“And I’m guessing you won’t be coming home with us tonight?”
“Sounds great.”
I bit my lip to hide a smile, and Hunt’s eyes devoured me even as I sipped the sweet drink, savoring the smooth taste. His gaze flicked to his glass for a second, then back to me.
“So, Hunt,” I asked. “Where are you from?”
“Where am I not from would be the easier question.”
“Military brat?”
He smiled, and it took me right back to that first sighting. It was almost offensive how gorgeous he was. He was like that smart kid in class that ruined the curve for everyone else. Only instead of being good at equations, he was just good at existing. I crossed my legs, and his eyes followed. He said, “Are you calling me a brat?”
“If I were going to call you names, brat would not be my first choice.”
His fingers brushed my ankle, and that small touch set my skin on fire.
“What would you call me, then?”
“Well, I’ve already called you soft.” His lovely eyes narrowed. “But I’m not above admitting when I’m wrong.”
His fingers traveled from my ankle up the back of my calf. My muscles flexed on instinct, and I really, really just wanted to skip the witty banter and get to the part where his mouth was on mine. Or on any part of me, really.
“What brings you to Budapest?” he asked.
I shrugged and hooked my foot around the back of his knee.
“Nothing in particular. It just seemed like an interesting place.” I pushed lightly, and he stepped away from the bar, closer to me. “What about you?”
His fingertips were close to the sensitive skin at the back of my knee, and he stood close enough now that if I wanted to wrap my legs around him to tug him forward, I could. He answered, “Following a whim.”
I wet my lips, and his eyes dropped down to my mouth. I was so close to getting him to follow another whim.
I said, “Do you ever get any less cryptic?”
“I thought women liked a mystery.”
His voice pitched low, and it must have hit some special frequency because it sent vibrations all the way through me. Yellow and green neon lights flashed, casting a glow across his face.
“Women love a mystery. But only if we think we can figure it out.” His gaze met mine, the intensity there was at once unnerving and intoxicating. “Are you going to let me figure you out, Hunt?”
He braced a hand on the edge of my stool, and his head dipped down toward my ear. The heat of his breath struck shivers across my skin like lightning. “That’s a two-way street, princess.”
I was about to tell him that he was dodging the question when Jenny popped up over his shoulder, Tau close by her side.
“We’re going back in the bath, you two coming?”
Hunt pulled away, and I fought the urge to wrap my limbs around him to keep him from going too far.
I held up a glass that was still almost full and said, “We’re still working on these. You guys go. Have fun.”
Jenny gave me a quick salute in lieu of a goodbye, and I had a feeling we wouldn’t be seeing each other again tonight.
When she was gone, I took another sip of my drink and met Hunt’s gaze. He wasn’t holding his glass, and when I looked behind him, it was sitting on the bar completely full.
“You’ve not touched your drink. I know it looks a little girly, but I swear you’ll like it.”
He smiled and took a seat on one of the stools that the others had vacated. “I’m okay. Really.”
“Oh, come on.” I slid off my stool to stand in front of him. Leaning against his knee, I said, “Try mine.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re so serious. Loosen up a little. Have some fun.” I took another sip, then ran my tongue against my bottom lip to catch a stray drop. “Just try it. For me?”
I settled between his knees, and his hands went to my waist.
I imagined what his mouth would taste like, how hot our bodies would burn pressed together. Were his lips as soft as they looked? I could almost feel them, smooth and sure, at odds with the rasp of stubble on his chin. Just imagining it had my body coiling tight. I let out an unsteady breath, and he said, “If you’ll answer a question for me.”
I tilted my head just an inch, and one of his hands cupped the curve of my neck.
“Deal.”
I took another sip of my drink, and then handed it to him. Water dripped off the outside of the glass, and he stared at me for a few seconds. I didn’t get his reluctance, and I wondered if it went back to that chivalry he claimed not to have. He acted like he didn’t trust himself where alcohol was concerned. And I, for one, was one hundred percent in favor of him getting a little crazy. With me, specifically.
He sighed, and his eyes flicked down to the half-empty glass. He pulled it to his lips, and took a quick sip. I gave him a look, and he took the rest of it in one gulp.