Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men, #1)

Dear God.

My bra suddenly felt itchy around my way-too-sensitive girly parts, and my panties were no longer all that comfortable either. I’d never grown so turned on, like full-out aroused, by simply looking at a guy before, as in, one more lick of frosting would have me screaming out a healthy release.

But Mason Lowe let off some powerful pheromones. My body soaked them in and begged for more.

As if he knew he was causing all my hormones to whimper and squirm, his eyes heated and he swayed toward me. A foot of space between us became six inches. Then three.

Danger. Danger, Will Robinson, my heart screamed, thudding against my ribcage as if it were pounding on the door to my head to get my attention and pull me back to reason.

Holding my breath, I turned away and snagged up the can of mixed nuts to open the lid. “You know, I might’ve been saving that frosting for later.”

His chuckle was strained. “But you know me. If you have food on you, I’m bound to steal it.”

“True.” I ripped off the freshness seal to the nuts before offering him some.

“See, you do know me.” With a sensual grin, he took out a handful.

His fingers lingered in the jar, so I frowned. “Don’t take them all. The guests might want some.”

His grin fell flat. “Those guests better start treating my sister right, or they can kiss my ass.”

Not fair. If anyone was getting the honor of touching his perfect, tight tush, it really should be me, not a bunch of snobby little teens who were upsetting his sister. Really.

“Don’t worry,” I told him with a wink. “I have a plan for the little children. They’ll be eating out of Sarah’s hand before the end of the day.”

Mason shook his head. “You’re smiling a bit too evilly right now. I don’t know whether to be awed or scared.”

“Awed,” I answered as I fluttered my fingers over the rough stubble on his cheek with flair. “Always be awed of me.”

He smiled and swayed close, looking drugged by my touch. “I usually am.”

His reaction did naughty things to me. Things I loved but couldn’t think about right now. What was important was that I had successfully calmed all his frazzled nerves. Damn, was I good or what?

But with Mason pacified, it was time to save my little buddy.





CHAPTER NINETEEN




“We’ve got food,” I cheered as I entered the living room in front of Mason with my arms loaded with plates full of cake and ice cream and mixed nuts. Serving Sarah first, I set her treat on the TV tray beside her chair and manually placed the plastic fork in her hand. “Here you go, my lovely. I made sure you got the most frosting on your—” I gasped. “Oh, my God, we didn’t sing happy birthday and let you blow out the candles.”

“Sarah has too much trouble with candles,” Mason answered as he gave his mother a plate of food and then handed another to Leann. “We usually skip that part.”

“Oh. Well, we could still sing to her, couldn’t we?” Since Dawn looked too relaxed in her La-Z-Boy with the feet kicked up to organize a song, I began singing as I passed out snacks to Sorcha and Brittany.

Thankfully, Mason and his mom and the three guests sang along with me. Afterward, I clapped, and everyone followed suit.

“We’ll be right back with drinks,” I said.

Mason stumbled after me as I grabbed his arm and dragged him along.

“See,” I said once we hit the hallway. “That wasn’t so bad.”

He snickered. “Probably because you didn’t give anyone else a chance to talk.”

Not appreciative of his teasing, I jabbed him in the ribs with my poky pointer finger. “Just keep watching, buddy. You’re about to behold the miracle that is Reese.”

“Okay,” he relented on another laugh. “I’ll trust you. But Mom didn’t have to sit over by the brats and totally ostracize Sarah like that.”

“She’s probably trying to make them feel more comfortable.” Entering the kitchen, I handed him four cups of already poured punch.

Scowling as he juggled them in his arms, he muttered, “Well, it’s not helping Sarah feel more comfortable.”

“Hey.” I would’ve told Mason to calm down and picture Chris and Liam too. But sadly, I don’t think that would’ve worked on him. Guys could be no fun sometimes. “I have a plan.”

Instantly, I remembered when he’d said that very phrase last night, right before his fingers had—

I shuddered and shook my head, refusing to go there. So not the time.

After making sure everyone had what they needed, Mason and I served ourselves and joined the group, sitting together on the only piece of furniture left in the living room—the loveseat. Talk about a giant tease, being cozied up next to him like we were a couple.

Though the three guests were almost finished with their cake, I said to Sarah, “Why don’t you open your gifts while we all eat.”