I got nowhere.
His eyes dropped to my mouth. “I’ve a mind to test your skills.”
Uh-oh!
“Let me go!” I repeated.
He didn’t let me go. His arms separated, one sliding up my back, the other one sliding low on my waist. The hand at my waist slanted down to my hip and his fingers pressed in.
“You feel better now that there’s more to you. I like the curves. When you were skin and bones…” he trailed off again.
Great. Just my luck. He liked that I was fat in this world.
“I’m not going to say it again,” I told him on another shove. “Let me go!”
His eyes moved back to mine. “Kiss me and I’ll let you go.”
My body went still.
Then I shouted, “No!”
“Can’t even give your husband that,” he muttered, his expression changing from speculative to daunting.
“Right. I can’t. You’re a jerk and I hate you, remember?” I snapped.
His arms tightened. “I remember,” he replied. “But that’s not it. You can’t do it.”
“Can’t do what?”
“Kiss me.”
“I can kiss you. I just don’t want to.”
“I’ll wager you can kiss me, what I mean is, you can’t kiss me the way I’d like it.”
It was my eyes that narrowed at that.
I really had no idea if I was a good kisser or not. Brian didn’t seem to mind the way I kissed. In fact, all I had to do was kiss him, give him a good, long, wet one and he was all over me. Then again, he was a guy. Guys didn’t need much and Brian needed less than most (in my, admittedly, not so vast experience).
“I could kiss you the way you’d like it but I’m not going to,” I returned.
“Drivel,” he muttered.
“I could!” I snapped.
“Not a prayer in this world,” he retorted.
What a jerk!
“Why do you even want me to kiss you? You don’t even like me.” I reminded him.
“Because, my love, I’m a man and most of your soft body has been pressed to me all night, the rest of it wrapped around me. That happens to a man no matter whose body it is.”
“Nice,” I hissed. “Just the words any girl wants to hear.”
“They’re true.”
“I’ll give you that. Now let me go,” I demanded.