His gaze dropped to her mouth, giving her a clear indication of his first move. Anticipation and anxiety collided in her chest, battling each other as he lowered his face to hers. I can do this, she told herself. She could absolutely… Warm breath bathed her lips. Shit! Kat pushed against his chest until he yielded.
His eyes probed hers in confusion. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” Liar!
“Then why can’t I kiss you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t like kissing on the mouth. Is that a big deal?”
He studied her for long moments. Finally, he said, “Depends.”
“On what?”
“The reason.”
She took a step back until his hands dropped, and then crossed her arms in front of her. “I don’t get the attraction of having my face eaten.”
“Face eaten. You been kissing zombies?”
Zombies, no. But, monsters? Definitely. Trying for sarcasm she didn’t feel, she said, “Very funny.”
He crossed his arms over his muscled chest and mimicked her stance as he narrowed his eyes slightly to study her. She imagined what they must look like as they faced each other, leaning on the wall with arms folded defensively. The window spilled moonlight onto the floor like an un-crossable canyon yawning between them.
At last he said, “Sounds to me like you’ve never been kissed by a man who knows what he’s doin’.”
Memories reared up of hot breath, heavy with the stench of cheap whiskey and chewing tobacco, tainting her air and assaulting her nose and lungs. Bruising lips and choking tongues. Sloppy wetness and vile tastes that had starred in her nightmares for years.
Turning away from him, she faced the corner of the room. Kat stiffened when his arms snaked around her waist.
“Don’t shut me out, kitten.” Irish nuzzled her neck and held her tight. “Talk to me.”
Damn him. She didn’t want to talk about any of it. Didn’t want to remember any of it. If he knew about her past, he’d be disgusted. He’d never want to touch her again.
And she needed him to touch her. She couldn’t explain it. Knew she didn’t deserve it. But needed it all the same.
Distract him. Get his blood pumping and he’ll forget all about talking. She turned in his arms and trailed kisses along his chest as her fingers explored the contours of his defined abs. Her lips found one of his pierced nipples and she tongued the barbell before sucking it into the heat of her mouth. He groaned in appreciation, and his strong fingers contracted at her waist. The heady feeling of a power she’d never known before—the power to make a man twice her size heel—gave birth to a desire to take the reins even more. To see how far she could go.
Irish cursed, grabbed her arms, and set her back from him. Frustration and probably more sexual tension than she wanted to think about tightened the lines in his face. She was way out of her league here.
“As much as I was enjoying that, distracting me is only going to get you so far, Kat. Because eventually I’m gonna get wrapped up in what’s happening and scare you again or try something else you don’t wanna do. So unless you tell me what’s going on with you, everything stops right here.”
“Fine,” she said as she backed away from him. “We’ll stop, then.”
He advanced, his stare solid and unwavering. She retreated farther. Not out of fear that he would harm her but of what he’d pull out of her. No one had ever chipped away at her defenses before—no one had given a damn enough to try—and now she realized how weak they truly were. She needed an upgrade and fast, or this man would topple them like a house of cards.
When the corner of the room met her back, his arms caged her in, his large frame invading her space and making it impossible to ignore him. With a strength and resolve she didn’t feel, Kat tilted her head up and met his intense gaze.
“What?” she demanded.
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
With one hand, he trailed the backs of his fingers across her cheek, a tenderness that belied the rough feeling of his scarred knuckles. “Tell me what happened to put those ghosts in your eyes.”
She bit down on her lip. “Please,” she pleaded, “don’t make me talk about it.”
“Ah, kitten, I’d never make you do anything.” Irish gathered her against him. Though she kept her arms tucked between them, she rested her head on his chest and sank into his embrace. “But that’s why I wanna know things. I don’t wanna do anything to hurt you. You understand?”
She nodded.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you into bed.”
Kat’s stomach dropped out when she became weightless as he cradled her against his chest. She looped her arms around his neck and held on, checking her distance from the floor as he crossed the room.
“Any tighter and you’ll have me in a decent choke hold. You afraid I’ll drop you?”
A flush of embarrassment heated her face despite the humor in his eyes. She loosened her grip and apologized. “Maybe a little. Which I guess is stupid. You’re probably strong enough to carry Ally.”