Page 10 of Five Alarm Kiss

“You okay?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them slowly, like she wasn’t sure what she’d see. “That was weird.”

“What was?”

“The floor just moved.” She glared down at the “moving” floor in question, then stumbled a little when she lifted her head. “No more liquor for you, young man.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “‘Young man’?” They were probably around the same age.

“Aren’t you?” she asked.

“Age is relative, don’t you think?”

“Pfft!”She made a sour face. “We’re not related. How old are you?”

He grinned at her interrogation. “Turned twenty-eight in January.” He and Jessa had been born on January second. They’d missed being New Year’s babies by five hours. Well, Jessa by five hours and seventeen minutes, since he’d been born first.

“Oh, wow.” Laurel grimaced. “You’re a pup!”

He barked out a laugh. Fitting, actually, according to her description. “I’m a‘pup’?”

She made atsk-tsksound. “Never ask a lady if she’s thirty.”

“Actually, I didn’t ask,” he corrected. “You just told me. But, you’re right. Asking a woman her age is a definite no-no. Or so I’ve been told.” By the way she said her age, he could tell it bothered her, but since she’d brought it up... “Thirty, huh?” Why women cared about age, he’d never know. Especially when they looked like her. “Guess I am a pup,” he teased with a wink.

Her nod was so exaggerated, she looked like one of those toy drinking birds that bobbed up and down.

“Yep, a puppy,” she said, studying his face. “A reallyhotpuppy... with really sexy eyes. But, yeah, a pu—Stop looking at me like that.”

He knew he was staring. He couldn’t help it. She was beautiful, yet didn’t know it. And no matter how worried shewas about a number, that’s all it was. A number. Age had never mattered to him. He’d dated both younger and older women, though two years hardly counted as older in his book.

“How am I looking at you?” He rubbed his thumb along her knuckles again, and she squeezed his fingers, probably without even realizing it.

“Like I want to take your clothes off.”

The faux pas made his cock harden. “You wanna take my clothes off?” he asked with a smirk. “Cuz that can be?—”

“Six.”

He snapped to attention.

Did she say “sex”?

“What?” His voice came out strangled.

“Six,” she repeated. “I just did five.”

Okay, “six,” not “sex,”which is obviously where his brain was. “You’ve lost me.” She was harder to follow than a water line in a smoke-filled room. “‘Five’ what?”

She pinned him with a keep-up-would-you glare. “Six!”

Now we’re back to “six”?

Before the thought had even left his brain, Laurel fisted his shirt and pulled him down while going up on her tiptoes. When she kissed him, shock was quickly replaced by a flash fire igniting his blood the moment their lips touched. His reserve went up like tinder. Jake crushed her against his chest and invaded her mouth with his tongue. She moaned softly, the sound shooting straight to his dick. She snaked her arms around his neck, as best she could with their height difference. He lifted her. The movement knocked her cap off, which afforded him better access. He groaned when she opened wider for him. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she hooked her ankles behind his back. He moved a hand down to her pert little ass, pulling her more tightly against him.

One sharp whistle and a “You go, Laur!” were followed by catcalls and more whistling and cheers from the people around them.

Laurel stiffened, and Jake knew she was going to pull back. He deepened the kiss—wanting one last taste before he had to let her go. Instead of pushing away, she melted into him and tangled her tongue with his. She tasted like the beer she’d stolen, only sweet. Something solely her mixed with the alcohol. It was intoxicating.Shewas intoxicating.

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