“The scent of your arousal is about to get us both in a hell of a lot of trouble.”
Her eyes widened, because he was close enough that she could feel his erection pressing against her stomach. As her gaze dropped, she watched the blood pound in the vein at the side of his neck as a trickle of perspiration eased along the strong column.
She had to lick her lips.
God, she wanted to taste him.
She wanted to bite his neck. Just sink her teeth into that tough hide and hold on tight as he rode her—
A shudder tore up her spine as aching need surged through her core. Her juices spilled, coating the suddenly sensitive folds and heating her clit further.
“Do you know what I can smell, Liza?” The sound of his voice was definitely a growl.
She shook her head slowly.
His head lowered until his lips were caressing her ear. “If the scent of summer heat was addictive, I’d be worshipping at your pu**y for life.”
She jerked away from him, breaking from his hold with an ease that assured her he had simply let her go.
Staring up at him, Liza told herself she was certainly insulted at the crude language, though she couldn’t make such an asinine statement pass her lips.
“I refuse to become a summer f**k for you,” she informed him, wondering exactly how much trouble that particular falsehood would get her into if she ever had to face her sins. “So you may as well leave now and stop harassing me. I assure you, I’m not enjoying it.”
He chuckled at the so-obvious lie. And she knew he could sense it as easily as he could sense the building arousal coursing through her body.
“You’re as beautiful lying as you are telling the truth,” he told her, amused. “But, in this case, I could definitely satisfy the truth if you were of a mind to face it.”
Liza tugged at the hem of her blouse before crossing her arms beneath her br**sts and attempting to glare at him.
“This is not a complication that I need in my life,” she finally told him as she tried to inject some semblance of determination into her tone. “You are not a complication I need in my life.”
“Thankfully, life enjoys throwing us a few curveballs then,” he stated, a hint of laughter urging her to meet his gaze once again. “Because I think I’m definitely enjoying the complication I know you’re going to be. Come on, Liza, give me a try. You might enjoy me. It’s just a ride on the back of my motorcycle. Nothing more.”
At least he hadn’t come right out and asked her to ride him.
She didn’t dare allow herself to consider that. She was too weak in the face of his flirting, in the certainty that he would rock her little world.
There was nothing more certain to undermine her determination than allowing herself to admit any weakness at all to him. He was a Breed, and she was certain all that Breed-driven testosterone and dominance would be sure to test her will.
From what she’d seen between her friend Isabelle and her new lover, Malachi, Breeds enjoyed nothing better than pushing the women they called their “mates” into fits of anger or arousal.
As though it were some prerogative they had invented themselves.
“I don’t need this particular curveball either,” she assured him as she moved to leave the kitchen.
Instead, she found her arm gripped by his big hand as she was swung around and once again pressed against the cabinet.
Held there, captured between his hard body and the wood cabinet behind her, there was really no true escape.
No escape from him, or from the arousal burning through her vagina and clenching her womb.
“This curveball is going to be unavoidable,” he assured her as she stared up at him, feeling the blood rushing to her ni**les, her clitoris, and then surging in excitement back to her overworked heart.
“Few things are unavoidable, Stygian,” she assured him, thought it was all she could do to keep her tone even and confident.
The even part, she was a little weak on. Come to think of it, she might have been a little lax in the confidence department as well. She was getting really good at the resigned part, though.
Resigned to the fact that the need was growing.