Page 50 of Defensive Zone

“I think you’re lying,” he said.

She stiffened her shoulders, not missing when his eyes traveled to her breasts. It’d been unintentional on her part.

Her nipples tightened under his stare. Hopefully, her bra hid that fact.

She would not look down to confirm.

“It’s rude to accuse someone of lying,” she bristled.

He stepped in closer, heat rolling off of him as he stroked his beard. She’d never been a fan of long beards, but apparently, she had no problem with his.

It should make him less hot. She’d never found straggly, unkempt mountain men hot, but here she was, losing her damn mind. She needed to get her head examined.

“It’s rude to lie,” he said, dropping his voice down to spine tingly levels.

His dark eyes glittered—there was no other word for it—and a strand of hair slipped out of the loose bun he’d put it in earlier tonight. It tangled in his beard, but she would not brush it back.

Her fingers itched.

She. Would. Not.

“What do you want, Max?” she asked, annoyed at the tone of her voice.

If a hole in the floor wanted to open up right now, she would not be averse to that.

“What do you want, Gabi?” he asked, quirking a brow.

She huffed. “Stop baiting me. Why are you so damn annoying?”

He chuckled and trailed his hand down her cheek.

She should step back, but her feet were glued to the floor. Hell, she actually leaned into him.

“Because I love seeing that flush in your cheeks when you get pissed at me. Probably more than I should, but I can’t seem to help it,” he said, lowering his head, his mouth so close to hers she could feel his breath against her lips.

“Sounds like a personal problem,” she said softly.

“Why do you enjoy tormenting me, Gabi?” he asked.

“You started it. And I’m not tormenting you. I’m just reacting,” she said.

“So you’re not feeling this right now?”

“What?” She attempted to sound nonchalant, but by his widening grin, she’d failed epically.

“You don’t want me to kiss you right now?”

She sucked in a breath. “Nope.”

He chuckled again. “Liar.”

She couldn’t take it anymore. She reached up, looped her arm around his neck, and dragged him down.

“Stop drawing this out, you idiot,” she said, and then his arms banded around her waist and she was pulled into him, his mouth slamming down on hers.

A moan slipped through her lips as her body churned with a powerful need that took her breath away.

His tongue licked along the seam of her lips, and she acquiesced, parting her mouth under his ministrations. Her tongue tangled with his. He tasted like chocolate and decadence, which was probably the slice of tiramisu he’d inhaled at dinner and not just Max. She wanted more. He lifted her and she locked her legs around his waist.

Then she was pressed against the wall. His hard muscles and incredibly hard cock pressed into her curves, and she rocked her hips, needing friction as he devoured her mouth.

His groan vibrated through them, and one hand tightened on her waist while he dove the other hand into her hair at the base of her head, holding her in place and taking complete possession of her body. In that moment, she would gladly give him anything.

He tasted good, and his body felt amazing against hers. What would it feel like to rip away their clothes? To feel his flesh against hers? To see how talented his mouth could be on every spot of her body?

“Max, oh god,” she whispered when he broke the kiss.

“Fuck, Gabi,” he said, and then he was kissing down her throat, nibbling on her ear, while never letting go of her head in his hand.

She felt consumed.

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