Page 67 of Red Flag, Green Light

“Sure, but thoseshoulders. He’s practically a tank. A big, hot tank. If he were here, I wouldn’t even need a bike. I could just ride him around town.Wee.”

Mars’s fingers lock around my throat, and my feet hit the ground for stability an instant before his mouth is open on mine. A horrifically deprived sound leaves me when his tongue pries my lips open and roves.

Considering the physical torture I’ve been subjected to for the past twenty minutes, my stamina is already shot, so I can’t keep up. At all. Panting, I sag into Mars’s arms after mere, delightful moments, and his fingers comb through my hair.

“Wow. You jealous…” I fight for air. “…or something?”

Silent, and deadly, Mars wraps a fist in my hair and pulls. “I’m actually really insecure, Ceres, so if you could not be quite so explicit when you mention my brother, I’d deeply appreciate it.”

“Right.” I exhale, melting when he kisses my neck. “Sinceantagonizing you because I’m desperate for you to touch me is absolutely something to be insecure about.”

“I am convinced that Jove is your type in ways I am unable to correct for you.”

“Where do you go about getting a silly idea like that?”

He draws back from tormenting me. “You aren’t exactly subtle concerning your ideal physical standards.”

“I’m not?”

“No.”

“Crazy.” I pout, helpless. “May I be freed from the confines of this torture vehicle now?”

Sighing, he kicks my stand down, grips my waist, andwhirlsme off the seat, placing me stably on the ground beside him. World spinning, I teeter. “Whoa.”

“Told you.”

Absently, I reach for his arm. “Do you…workout?” Firm muscle meets my fingers, and I think I’ve answered my own question. He can lift me. Effortlessly. My heartbeat trips, and I grip his bicep as excitement rises. “Hey, Mars?”

Hesitant, he watches me. “Yes, my dearest love?”

“On a scale of one to ten—with ten being very confident and one being not confident at all—how confident are you in your ability to throw me over your shoulder, march me into either of our bedrooms, and toss me into bed?”

“Zero.” He covers his face with his hand as red soars beneath his flesh. “I’m barely confident I’ll survive the illicit images you insist on bombarding me with.”

I deflate. “Well, that’s terribly disappointing. We’ve got to address your innocence before I scar you for life. Would you be willing to borrow some books from me? They’re by my favorite author, Rouge, and they depict everything I want in a relationship. If you aren’t comfortable with the idea of what’s depicted in them, then chances are we should stop while we’reahead.”

“Come with me to the courthouse, and I’ll do anything from any of your books upon request, because trust me, Ceres, this isn’t aninnocenceissue.”

My brows rise. “Seriously? You’re just a marriage-first guy?”

“Yeah. I am.” He pauses, drops his gaze and his hand, and says, “My dad taught me that you don’t test drive a woman before you commit to her, because women aren’t cars. It was one of the few things he was lucid enough to imprint in Jove and me. You edit spice. You know. The stuff that matters happens outside the bedroom while the bedroom stuff gets redundant. We’re decent communicators. I think we can handle a pleasant enough copy-and-paste experience. I want to forge something deeper.” His gaze lifts, back to my eyes. “I want to know you, protect you, and keep you. I want you to be mine beyond skin. Because while every cell in your body is replaced roughly every ten years, the same can’t be said about your soul. That’s where I want to leave my fingerprints. In the place you can’t ever get rid of them.”

My heart thuds a steady beat in my ears, and my voice sounds funny when I find the words to speak. “I didn’t know they still made men like you.” Flushed, I clear my throat. “I respect those wishes.”

“So we’re going to the courthouse?”

“Now who needs to slow down?”

He pushes my hair back over my ear so tenderly it makes my thudding heart stumble. “Still you.”

To escape, I begin walking my bike back from the street up my driveway, to where I’ve been hoping it’ll get stolen off my porch. “You’re really super duper keen on this whole marriage thing, aren’t you?”

“When I say it’s not an innocence issue, I do mean that I want nothing more than to fulfill your every fantasy. Over and over. Until you’re begging for me to stop in a fit of exhausteddelirium. So, yeah. I’m trying to get you used to the idea of my prerequisite, considering I’d like to experience that wholefulfilling your wildest desiresthing for the rest of my life.”

I reach for my doorknob and step into the foyer. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly.”

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