tilting her head to read the cracked spines.
“This one.” His arm reached over shoulder to a shelf just above eye level. His long fingers plucked a well-loved book from the collection and held it down for her.
She took it from him and read the title aloud. “Mistletoe Dreams.”
“I’ve read it at least a dozen times.”
She turned the book over to read the back cover. Her eyes skimmed over the plot. Single mom returns to her hometown and falls in love with the stranger next door. Something about a rescue dog and the true meaning of Christmas. “Why is this one your favorite?”
“You’ll have to read it to find out.”
She returned the book to its place. “Got anything about serial killers? I’d rather read that. Might give me some ideas about how to deal with Royce.”
Mack suddenly flattened his hand against the frame of the bookcase, blocking her in from behind. His mouth brushed her earlobe. “Why did you say yes to tonight?”
Liv felt faint. “Besides wanting to see the kitchen you kept bragging about?”
“Yeah, besides that.”
Her stomach pitched. Keep it physical. Keep it meaningless. “I’ve made a decision.”
“Good decision or bad decision?”
“Probably bad.”
“My favorite kind.” He inched closer, bringing his body flush against hers. “What is it?”
She set down her glass on the shelf and turned around in the heat of his half embrace. “You and I are going to have sex.”
He smacked his hand across his chest. “I’m officially scandalized. Are you suggesting we rub our cloacas together?”
“Something like that, yes, but I swear to God, if you only last three seconds, I’m going to shout it to everyone that the famous Braden Mack is a sexual fraud.”
He growled something dirty and yanked her against his hard body. “If that’s a challenge, I accept.”
Liv backed up until she collided with the bookshelf. “You’re probably curious how I came to this decision.”
“Not particularly.”
“I decided it made perfect sense.”
“Yeah?” His mouth found the tender spot below her ear.
“We are obviously attracted to each other.”
“Obviously.”
“We’ve kissed three times, and it wasn’t half bad.”
He pulled back, affronted. “Half bad?”
Liv sighed dramatically. “Men and their egos.”
“It’s biological,” he teased, nuzzling her nose-to-nose. “We like to be stroked.”
“I can tell you want to have sex with me.”
“What was your first clue?”
“Well, there’s this.” Liv reached between them and cupped the unmistakable hard bulge testing the strength of his zipper.
He gulped. “He does tend to blow my cover.”
“We’re spending a lot of time together anyway.”
“True.”
“So it makes perfect sense. Right?”
He answered by weaving his fingers in her hair and drawing her mouth to his. It was a hot, invasive, take my breath away kind of cinematic kiss. He lifted his head far too soon and growled against her lips. “Enough talk, Liv. Are we going to do this thing or not?”
She bit his lip. “Take me upstairs.”
Mack looped his arm under her legs and swooped her up just like the night when he’d rescued her from the bar fight. Only this time, she wasn’t arguing. He carried her up the stairs without speaking, his face a mask of purpose. Liv leaned into his neck and nipped at the skin below his ear.
He let out a deep growl, kicked open a bedroom door, and quickly deposited her on her feet in front of a mahogany dresser.
Keep it physical. Nothing more. Liv rose on tiptoe to kiss him, but he shook his head. “Turn around,” he ordered gruffly.
She obeyed and flattened her hands on the dresser. “Am I being frisked?”
Mack’s hands slid down her sides until they reached her hips. With a hard tug, he pulled her back against his erection. His mouth met her ear. “You’re in charge, Liv. Boss me around like I know you want to.”
Yes. This she could do. Play a role. Keep her heart out of it. Let him touch her and make her body sing like the master he supposedly was.
“Kiss my neck,” she said, tilting her head.
His lips were like electricity against her skin, sending sparks down her spine. He lingered there, doing things with his tongue that left her panting in five seconds flat.
Liv covered one of his hands with hers and pulled it away from her hip. Fingers laced, she dragged it along her abdomen and stopped at the waist of her jeans.
“Tell me what you want,” he rasped.
“I want you to touch me.” Was that her voice? Dear God, she sounded like she was underwater.
Mack’s fingers deftly flicked open the top button and drew down her zipper inch