Page 21 of Hothead

He was so turned on he could barely think, all his brain cells long gone. Melted in the fire that was currently engulfing them both. Whiskey-flavored moans feeding the flames and threatening to burn them both to the ground.

If he wasn’t in the damn parking lot, he’d have had her clothes torn off by now. His mouth all over this soft skin until her screams rang out in his ears.

But he was reminded of just where they were when the door next to them swung open, and the sounds of men stumbling out into the night managed to register in his cloudy mind. Their howls of laughter enough to cause Luke’s feast to falter.

Shit.

Painfully aware of his predicament and what he must look like right now, he reluctantly drew back. Letting out a groan as he got his first look at her swollen, wet lips and the heavy breaths she was struggling to push through them.

“Come home with me,” he panted. He was so far gone; he was even prepared to beg at this point.

“I-I.” She didn’t elaborate further. Just pinned him with dark gray pools.

“I’m not done with you, angel, not by a long shot.” The scary truth was that he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be done with her.

He didn’t miss the heat flare in her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I’m not done making you moan.”

His lips, missing hers already, went back for more. Lightly, he ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth, making her gasp. Now she was parted and ready, he scraped his teeth along her bottom lip and tugged—her taste dangerously close to making him lose his mind again.

“I haven’t even started yet,” he drawled into her. “You think this is good, just wait and see what else I can do with this mouth. I guaran-fucking-tee you won’t be disappointed.”

One night wouldn’t be enough with this woman. He knew that. Accepted that. There was too much he wanted to do to her. With her. Over and over again. Too much he wanted to see. To taste. To touch. He wanted to drown in her. For days. Months. Fucking years.

Uh, years? What the hell?

Now was not the time to analyze. Now was the time for action. But she still hadn’t answered. And his stomach was beginning to twist.

“Say you’ll come home with me,” he asked again, drawing back until he was looking into her.

She was going to bolt. He saw it coming almost in slow motion. Her gaze was no longer glazed. Her brain had obviously switched back on sooner than his. And her perfect white teeth had taken his place on her lower lip as she searched out his eyes.

“We can’t,” she began, wriggling enough in his hold that he knew what he had to do next. Let her go.

“We can,” he argued as he set her back down on the ground. Not ready to step back from her just yet.

He was guessing the sigh wasn’t a good sign. “I have to go.”

As she went to leave, his hand shot out. “Please. Don’t.” Was he really going to beg?

Apparently, I am.

She twisted in his hold, a look of pure hopelessness marring her pretty features. “I have to. YouknowI have to. And you know exactly why you should let me. You’re just as unprepared for this as I am.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, it’s too much.Thisis too much, Luke.” She gestured between them for emphasis. “I was wrong the other day when I said that anything between us would just be a hook-up. That kiss just proved that. And don’t even think about telling me you didn’t feel what I just felt.”

He wasn’t going to. She was right. So he dropped his hand ... and let her leave. He didn’t move though. He stood right there in the darkness. Trying to catch his breath.

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