Incompatibly Yours: Charity Anthology Supporting Fertility Research

She's so damn beautiful.

Her hands land on my chest while my arms embrace her. I watch as she blinks and her long lashes sweep over her skin. It's like everything's happening in slow motion and I'm overcome with emotions. Jesus, I want this woman more than I realised. She's bewitched me in a way I don't ever recall experiencing before.

"Mr Ink is what my sister and I call you," she finally admits. "You know, because of all the tattoos you have." I can tell by the hesitant, almost shy tone in her voice that she doesn't want to tell me this.

"You've been talking to your sister about me?" The fact I fucking love this is evident in my grin, and when she returns that smile, I want to kiss her and celebrate my first victory.

Her walls are coming down.

I don't kiss her yet, but I'm working up to it. She might have laid down the law about no sex tonight, but she didn't say anything about me kissing her.

All traces of hesitancy are gone when she replies to my question. Goddess mode is back. "I had to tell someone that I met an inked guy with a confidence problem, and she's my person. She was the one who named you Mr Ink."

I chuckle. "A confidence problem?"

Her eyes twinkle and I don't miss the fact her hands relax against my chest. "Yeah, as in way too much confidence."

"Bullshit. I don't have too much confidence. How did you come up with that?" She's right, but I'm not letting her have that one.

"Uh, almost the first moment we met. You said, and I quote, 'I'm amused when a woman, who is clearly attracted to me, flinches at my tattoos.' Tell me that's not confidence."

"That is not confidence, sweetheart. That is the truth."

One of her hands begins to trace lazy patterns on my chest, but I'm not sure she even realises. She stares at me for a long moment, not saying anything. "My sister would agree with you."

My breathing slows. "But would you?"

Now her breathing slows and I love her voice when it is all breathless like this. "I would."

I was going to wait to kiss her, but I only have so much self-control, and when it comes to breathless women standing in front of me letting their walls down a little, I can't hold myself back. Bending, I brush my lips over hers. It's only a whisper of a kiss, but when her hands slide up my chest and loop around my neck, I press my lips to hers and give her another reason why she should take a chance on me. As our tongues tangle, I tighten my hold on her, forcing our bodies together. Her scent—some kind of flower, rose maybe—is driving me crazy, and I can't get close enough.

I want everything she has to give.

Now.

Fuck.

I need to end the kiss or I may not be able to stop, but she's moved her fingers to thread through my hair, and it feels so damn good that I don't want to ever pull away.

Groaning into her mouth, I attempt to get myself under control. "Sweetheart, as much as I'm enjoying the hell out of this kiss, we need to stop."

Her lust-filled eyes blink and she looks up at me in confusion. "We do?" Jesus, even her voice is made of lust, and I groan again.

"We do. If you keep kissing me like that, with those soft lips of yours and those fingers doing that thing they're doing in my hair… I'm not sure I'll be able to drop you back at your house and not ask you for more."

Her fingers stop moving as she sucks her bottom lip in and bites it. "We should stop," she whispers, but it's clear that's the last thing she wants to do.

I need to take charge here, but goddamn it, this shit is hard. Taking a deep breath, I let her go and take a step back. I rake my fingers through my hair and watch as she tries to get her breathing back to normal. "Just so you know, that's the hardest thing I've had to do in a long time."

She's still biting her lip. God, I wish that was my lip. Closing the distance between us again, she stands on her tiptoes, places a quick kiss on my lips, and agrees. "Not stopping you was the hardest thing I've had to do in a while." Once her words are out, she steps around me and walks to the edge of the roof.

Staying where I am, I track her steps. My gaze travels the length of her body and when I get to her heels, I silently thank the universe for leading my sister to her.

While my eyes are glued to her arse, she spins around and catches me looking. Her arms spread across the ledge she's leaning against, and she shakes her head at me while still smiling.

I grin and head over to where she is. "A man can't be blamed for admiring beauty."

"You say all the right things, Tanner Brady. I feel like you've had a lot more practise at this than me."

"I'm older than you by a couple of years. I've definitely had more practice at this."

"That's not what I was getting at, and you know it."

Moving close to her so I'm standing in her personal space, I take hold of her chin. "You can practice on me."

A.C. Bextor, Teresa Gabelman, S.R. Grey, Nina Levine's books