Page 9 of Baiting His Bride

Her eyebrows pinch together. “Prove it?”

I step closer, my hand gripping her hip, so there’s no misunderstanding. “Prove just how good I am with my tongue.”

“But…” she starts, trailing off as confusion replaces the heat in her eyes.

“But what?” Whatever it is, whatever her hesitation, I want to clear it up. Now.

It’s a long beat until her eyes find mine through her long lashes. She regards me closely, as if turning over something in her mind, and I’m convinced she’s going to suggest other odds.

But before I even realize what’s happening, she erases the gap between us and kisses me.

Mallory

Carson can dance. Because, of course, he can. The man knows his way around a dance floor, and the way he moves confirms, as if I had any doubt, he knows his way around a woman’s body, too. Which is perfect because my legs are still wobbly from the kiss.

The one I started, but he quickly hijacked. Deepening it as he cradled my head in his hand and overwhelmed each of my heightened senses.

After a beat when his surprise registered, his tongue swept into my mouth like it owned the place. But the exploration was tender, with only a hint of the restraint he was wielding.

The touch was welcome and set my blood on fire. Until we were interrupted, who knows how many minutes later, when the wedding planner corralled us to once again line up in processional order to be introduced at the reception. And join in the first dance.

So now, here we are, under the low lights of the grand ballroom, as a familiar love song plays. My grip is tight on Carson's smooth linen suit jacket while we glide across the wooden dance floor with the other attendants and the happy couple.

He's holding me close, smells like sin, and has his arm wrapped around my waist like a protective shield. I’m eyeing the exit, debating if anyone would miss our presence, because any resolve I had not to sleep with Carson Bennett tonight has been thrown into a blender and pulverized.

After all, our agreement to just be Carson and Mallory while we’re here is just like the what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas kind of deal, right? At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. And I don’t want to waste an opportunity for a night of unbridled passion that’s sure to satisfy. Because one night is all I’ve got.

“Planning a quick getaway?” Carson murmurs, lifting his chin to acknowledge someone behind me before his amused gaze falls to meet mine.

No reason to mince words. “I want to finish what I started.”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “Is that so?”

“Don’t you?”

A beat and then, “That depends.”

That depends?

“Your erection didn’t seem to share your hesitation.”

The stiff length pressed into my belly on the patio ten minutes ago and made it crystal clear he’s a willing partner. At least, I thought it did.

A chuckle escapes him. “It doesn’t, believe me.”

“Then why the indecision?”

A muscle twitches in his jaw. My eyes drop to track the movement, and his grip tightens around me as he looks off into the distance. “Can I ask you something?”

His tone has lost its playful edge.

“Why do I have the feeling it’s not what’s your favorite position?”

That earns me another chuckle, but it’s short-lived as he turns serious. “What made you go into public relations? What do you love about it?”

He’s laying a classic reporter move on me. One known for getting an interviewee to open up. I didn’t see that coming. No man has ever bothered to ask what I love about my job. Especially not one who challenged me to set aside our professional roles for the weekend. But he’s press and probably naturally curious. Plus, he seems genuinely interested, his blue eyes thoughtful as we slowly sway. For some reason, right now, it seems important that he knows where I’m coming from.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts. Carson’s not the type to take a throwaway answer, and even though we’ve agreed to keep business out of it, this isn’t really about business. It’s about me. And how I phrase anything, whether it be a press release or an answer to a reporter’s question, is important. Words matter.

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