His bottle paused halfway to his mouth. “Excuse me?”
“I said kiss me, you idiot.”
Her hands grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him closer. He nearly fell over but caught himself with a hand against the wall. “Geez, honey. You could at least buy me dinner first.”
She smashed her lips against his.
Holy shit, this woman could kiss. He’d kissed enough women to know when someone knew what she was doing, and she did. He was a sucker for a good kisser. Some men liked women who could pretzel it in bed, but give him a woman who knew how to make love with her lips alone, and he was a goner.
But Jesus, this was crazy. What the hell was she doing? He pulled back, panting. “You really don’t want to talk about your father, do you?”
Her eyes darted to look over his shoulder. “Royce’s goons are here.”
“What?” He tried to twist around to look, but she grabbed his face in her hand and turned him back. His cheeks were smooshed between her fingers. Surprisingly strong fingers. Kneading dough must be an actual workout or something.
“Royce has goons? What are you talking about?” It came out muffled, because his lips were smashed together.
“His security guards,” she explained, not even slightly out of breath. How was that possible? He felt like he’d just run ten miles.
He tried to turn again, and this time she let him. He spotted them instantly. “Those two big dudes by the door?”
“Yep.”
“They look . . .” Mack paused. “Hungry.”
“I don’t know how much Royce feeds them.”
“What the hell are they doing here?”
“I’ll give you one guess.”
The two men started to scan the room. “Shit,” Liv hissed, and then she did it again. She kissed him.
Only this time he was prepared. And if they were going to kiss, they were going to kiss. Mack palmed the back of her head and went deep, angling her face so he could slant his mouth over hers properly. She tensed against him but only for a moment. Then she sank into him. Melted. Her mouth opened wider, letting him in. Her hands opened flat against his chest.
And shoved him back. “They’re not looking,” she said. “We need to get out while we can.”
Mack blinked. What? Right. The goons. Right. He looked over his shoulder. The two men had their backs to the room, watching the door instead. Mack grabbed Liv’s hand and tugged her out of the booth.
“Maybe there’s a back door,” she said.
They moved quickly down the dingy hallway next to the booth and swore when it only led to a single bathroom. A sign above the door read PEE AND POOP HERE.
“Dammit,” Mack said, running his hand over his hair.
“Can you see them?” Liv asked.
Mack crept to the end of the hallway and ducked his head around the corner. They were turning around again and—FUCK. “Get in the bathroom,” he barked.
Liv didn’t wait to be told twice. She yanked open the creaky door and ducked inside. Mack followed, turned the lock on the door, and sagged against it.
Liv looked up at him, hand over her nose. “Oh my God. We’re going to need tetanus shots.”
Someone banged on the door outside.
They each went breathless. Mack reached over and shut off the light. Darkness seemed to make the smell worse.
The person knocked again. “Are you done in there yet?” a young woman asked. “I have to pee.”
Mack turned the light back on and turned around. He clicked the lock. Liv’s hands covered his. “What are you doing?”
“The girl’s gotta pee.”
“It could be a trap! What if they asked her to do it?”
Mack shrugged her off and opened the door just enough to poke his head out. The girl was bouncing up and down. She saw him and let out a “Thank God.”
He held up his hand. “Do you see two big guys wearing black T-shirts out there?”
“I’m gonna pee my pants,” she whined.
“Just tell me where they are, and then we’ll let you in.”
The girl stomped her foot, walked away, and then came back. “They’re standing by the door.”
Mack opened the door and let her in. She stumbled, and he caught her around the waist. When she saw Liv, her eyes widened. “I’m not into threesomes.”
Liv rolled her eyes. “We’re hiding from those guys out there.”
The girl groaned and doubled over. “I gotta go bad.”
Liv pushed her toward the single stall that hid the offensive toilet. “We won’t watch.”