“Ha! That’s two questions. Drink up, baby!” she shouts into the night as I cringe, realizing my mistake the minute the second question was out of my mouth. Beaux pours a shot of liquid and hands it over. I toss back the drink, and she immediately takes the glass from me and pours one for herself. This time she hisses when she downs it.
“Wait, you’re not answering the question?” I’m a little surprised since the question was so innocent in nature, no hidden agenda other than getting to understand her background better.
“And there’s another question!” She laughs. “Before you know it, Tanner Thomas, you are going to be putty in my hands.”
“I see how you are. Trying to win this little game by default.” I laugh. And it feels so good to laugh after all of the shit over the past few months. It feels even better to have someone next to me even if I’m not supposed to like her. When she reaches for the bottle and I shift it away from her at the same time so that she falls partially on top of me, it jolts me back to reality.
And makes me so very conscious of the heat of her body against mine, the scent of her shampoo as she moves her hair out of her face and angles her face up to meet my eyes. Her breath hitches and fingers grip tighter over mine on the neck of the bottle at our sides. Everything about her is like a high-definition television all of a sudden, so damn perfect you want to touch but know it’s not real.
“Your turn,” she murmurs, her whiskey-scented breath feathering over my lips. “Why’d you kiss me today?”
I stare at her, my free hand itching to touch her, drag her beneath me, and lose myself in every goddamn contradiction she has to offer – but I know that would only complicate things even further. But it seems that lately everything about my life has become complicated… so why should I care if I add one more thing to the mix?
“I think the question you should ask yourself is why did I stop?”
Her hand moves up the plane of my chest, teasing me with an unnecessary reminder of temptation because what she has to offer is already permanently etched in my mind. My muscles tense; the need to take and plunder those lips of hers that are in a devastatingly close range to mine is more than most men would be able to resist.
“You stopped because you hate how I make you feel. You tell me you don’t like me, but I’m pretty sure what is pressing against my thigh tells me otherwise.” She leans closer into me, her voice a seduction all in itself. “Admitting it is half the battle,” she whispers before brushing her lips ever so softly against mine.
I don’t respond, my body strung so goddamn tight that when she tries it a second time, my hand fists in her hair to prevent her from doing any further damage.
“I’m trying to do what’s right here, Beaux.” My voice is strained, the pressure of my restraint so obvious that I sound desperate for her.
“Rule breaker.” She chuckles so the warmth of her breath hits mine. “Remember, sometimes what’s right isn’t always what’s needed. Sometimes what’s needed isn’t always what’s wanted. And sometimes you just have to live in the moment, take what’s given, and sort out the consequences later.”
“Fuck the consequences. They’re rarely worth it.”
“I’m worth it.” Her lips brush against mine as she says the words, the whisper of touch almost more intimate than the kiss itself. “Wouldn’t you rather be fucking me than the consequences?”
I clench my jaw as my control slips further. The mixture of her words and her proximity is too much to bear. My hesitation is fleeting before I give in to the desire waging its own war within me.