Page 45 of Scotch on the Rocks

“Fuck.”Her curse bordered on a groan. Her head fell back as I slipped off one sock, then the other.

“Eyes on me,” I said. They opened into thin slits, reminding me of her hissing cat as they focused on me.

Pulling at her waistband, I peeled her stiff jeans down her thighs, kneeling far enough back to catch every bared scrap of skin. Holding my breath and only releasing it when the light pink lace came into view. “God, Juniper.” The first time in my car wasn’t an anomaly. Her little secret was out. Juniper Ross liked frilly, pretty, little underthings. I barely paused to glance at her gorgeous legs, because this would be over far too soon.

I stood, fingering the hem of her undershirt. “And this?”

“Please.”

Please.That single word on her lips fucking did things to me. “Arms up.” I helped push them above her head and tugged it off in a single sweep, groaning at the dizzying sight of her matching bra and the perfect breasts contained within. This was more than I’d ever seen of her and every inch was perfection. From the lines of ink to the raised scratches, some healing and some fresh. Gifts from the cat that reminded me of her.

“My favourite colour.” My shaking finger grazed thedainty strap of her bra without touching her skin. If I touched her, I’d be done for. “You’re so gorgeous, Juniper, but of course you know that. How could you not?”

“You didn’t say that last time.”

Last time.The words emptied every thought from my head but that memory. The car park, Juniper’s skin beneath my tongue, her back as she walked away. The open ring box on her sideboard, evidence of where her heart still lay.Too soon. This was too soon.I dropped my hands, but it didn’t help, Juniper was panting, her peaked breasts grazing my chest through my T-shirt.Fuck. I squeezed my eyes shut, hands balling into fists at my sides.

“All right over there?” Her tone was sardonic, like she could read every humiliating thought in my head.

I managed a nod. Swallowed. “I should leave … Iamleaving.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.” It was a snarl.

“You look like you’re about to kiss me, Macabe.” My eyes snapped open, taking in the smug quirk of her lips. Like she’d fought a duel and came out victorious.

That wouldn’t do.

I leant in a fraction, satisfaction roaring as she tensed. Chin tilting, lips parting.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Eyes that had been on my lips found mine, flicking side to side as she tried to focus. Her tongue worked around a reply that never came. I could practically see the cogs in her brain turning. “Until that answer is a resounding yes, I’m not going to kiss you, harpy.”

Something flashed through her expression, a vulnerability she masked far too quickly. “You’ll be waiting a long time.”

“I don’t doubt it.” And it would be worth it. For all mytalk, I was so pathetic for her, I’d be crawling to her on my hands and knees before the week was through.

Stepping back, I stared at her for the longest time. Her fingers clutched the sink, but she didn’t move as I mapped every inch of her, mentally scrawling my name over every slight curve. Even as I shook my head and scrubbed a hand over my beard.Your move,her silence said.

It took more strength than I knew I possessed to collect her clothes and turn for the door.

Ten minutes later, I was tossing her clothes into the machine when, “I hope you aren’t sniffing my underwear, Macabe,” came from over my shoulder.

Macabe.

The message was clear. From the snark to the surname, she was putting us straight back onto familiar ground. I could work with that.

“I’m not sure what getsyouhot under the collar, harpy, but for me it’s definitely not your shit-soaked cardigan.”

She shrugged, like my taunt was of little consequence. Her damp hair left wet patches on the borrowed shirt, jogging bottoms rolled over several times at the waist. Was she wearing the boxers I’d left, too? Curious minds demanded to know.

I crossed to the counter, only the hum of the washing machine cutting through the tension as I filled the kettle.

“Tea? Coffee?” I offered both, knowing she’d take the coffee with a splash of coconut milk, like she always did.

Her teeth scraped her lower lip. “I should get back.”

I nodded, flicking the kettle to boil anyway. “I’ll bring your clothes over once they’re dry.”

---