your secrets. I like for you to trust me.”
“Can I trust you?” She leaned into his touch.
Instead of answering her, he bent and brushed his lips over hers. A soft, gentle caress. “With your life,” Dex swore against her mouth. He meant it. He would do anything to keep her safe. He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt Lacey. Hurting her was not part of any plan that he had.
He forced his hand to fall away from her. Forced his head to lift when all he wanted was to lock his mouth tightly to hers and take and take and take. Dex cleared his throat and walked around Lacey. Ditching his suit jacket, he headed for the chair in the corner of the room. Dex threw himself into it and grabbed the arms of the chair. He held on a little too tightly. “Why don’t you go get some sleep?” His voice was gruff. Hard.
Yeah, like my voice is the only thing hard. His dick was shoving out at full attention. His fingers dug into the chair arms. Do not move from this spot.
Lacey turned toward him. One hand went to her hip. “You like kissing me, don’t you, Dex?”
Pretty much more than he liked breathing. Instead of confessing that rather unsettling truth, he gave her a cocky smile. And a wink. “You like kissing me, too, sweetheart.”
“Absolutely.” She stepped toward him. The bottom of her dress trailed over the floor. “I’m very picky about my lovers. I don’t trust easily.”
Don’t want to think about her and other men. Don’t want to have to go out, hunt them down, and kick all their asses.
He didn’t speak.
Lacey kept advancing on him. When she was about a foot away from his chair, she bent and lifted the cascading falls of her dress.
Oh, sweet hell…
Her legs were freaking perfect. And she had that knife strapped to the top of her thigh and it looked so hot. Every bit of moisture dried from his mouth, and Dex found himself angling forward far too eagerly. “Wh-what are you doing?” Damn. Had he just stuttered? He never stuttered.
Lacey released a soft, sensual laugh. Her left hand casually removed the knife and the strap. “Can’t very well to go bed with a knife strapped to my thigh.” She put the weapon on the nearby table. Slowly let the dress fall back to the floor.
Dex looked up at her face. The drumming of his own heartbeat was far too loud in his ears. He got caught by her gaze and couldn’t look away. Curious, intrigued, he asked, “Are you playing a game with me?”
“I don’t play games. I think that’s more your thing.”
Okay. Fine. Guilty. “Then what are you doing?” Dex’s voice came out more growl than anything else.
She inched closer. So close that if he reached out, he could curl his hand around her waist. He could pull her down on top of him. The chair was one of those over-stuffed creations, easily big enough for two. Dex could imagine pulling her down onto him. Those perfect legs of hers would straddle him as she scooped up the dress again, and then she’d be pressed hard right to—
“I’m trying to come to a decision.”
He swallowed. “Want to clue me in as to what that decision is about?”
“I think you know.” Soft. Sensual. Then she advanced.
He sucked in a breath but—
She moved to the side of the chair. Not on my lap. Not in the chair with me. At the side. Still very, very close.
Her index finger extended and slowly stroked down the column of his neck. And if he’d thought that his pulse was racing before, he’d been wrong. At her touch, his heart pounded so fast that his chest shook.
She leaned over beside him. Since the top few buttons of his shirt were undone, it was easy for her to trail her fingers down his chest. Easy for her to reach out and caress him—
He caught her hand. Trapped it there. “Don’t play.” His head turned toward her.
“I’m not.”
“You should go to bed.” A hard warning.
“But if I do, I’m afraid I’ll just be in the dark, still trying to make this decision.”
Cards on the damn table. “You trying to decide if you want to fuck me?” He made the words deliberately rough. Maybe part of him wanted to scare her away. To warn her…you’re not getting some gentleman with me. People are right when they call me a bastard. An asshole. Don’t offer me what