Page 16 of Whiskey Darling
The moment by the pool was real. The flames are so tangible we might burn to ashes where we stand.
Allie sucks in a breath then lets out an audible moan. The soft, helpless sound, the way her lips part, it does something to me I cannot explain, something I can’t say I ever experienced with another woman.
“What’s your type? I wanna know.” Damned if I can stop myself from breaking my own rules. Somehow, I’ve crowded her until she’s flush against the barrels. The spark of lust flashing in her eyes contradicts every word she says to the contrary as I loom over her.
Looking into those mossy green depths is nothing short of gazing into the deepest ocean chasm. A swirling maelstrom of frustration, forbidden desire, and curiosity yawns between us. If we aren’t careful, we’ll drown in those depths.
“It’s better left unsaid,” Allie counters. “Especially to myemployer.” She tries placing the journal between our bodies, but I capture her wrist, pulling it high above her head. My other hand braces against a barrel on her other side, caging her in.
Biting her bottom lip, she tilts her chin toward me. I know immediately what the subtly defiant gesture means. And I know what she wants when her hips jut forward, making contact with mine.
The world slams to a halt. Our breaths stutter and stop.
I’m stone.
She’s silk.
There is no lie in what passes between us. No dishonesty. No misunderstanding this inferno.
Want. Need. Desire.
The words hiss between my teeth. “Tell me, Darling. Tell me right now I shouldn’t kiss you. Tell me you don’t want this as badly as I do.”
“This is precisely whatyouwant to avoid.” She flings my own words in my face, excitement burning in her eyes. “Messy entanglements…”
Allie Darling turns me into a caveman. The need to possess, to own, to control this amazing woman, if only for a short time, is all I can think about. I want to ruin her. Break her. Then put all her pieces back together so I can watch her fall apart for me again. I get the feeling she wants that, too.
Brushing my lips along the shell of her ear, I take a deep breath. Her fragrance fills my lungs. It’s magical. Clean and warm. Like summer linen and sunshine.
My question escapes as a husky rasp of air. “Should I kiss you, Allie? Answer me. It’s a simple question with a simple answer.”
She’s so quiet that at first, I think she’s just being stubborn.
Then she shudders in my grip, her hips pushing tighter against mine. In a mournful voice, she responds, “Yes. But you shouldn’t…”
I grind against her, loving the way she melts in place. Her free hand curls around the back of my neck, fingers sinking into my hair.
Her tone becomes lower-pitched, almost desperate. “Oh, God, we really shouldn’t…”
Her lush mouth lifts until her breath warms my lips. I wait until she’s on her tiptoes, straining to reach me, her back bowing. Only then does my arm snake around her waist. With her wrist high, trapped against the wooden barrel, she’s off-balance and dependent on me to stay upright.
A growl is working its way up my throat, but before I can claim my prize, we’re interrupted.
Footsteps echo down the hall. The door handle turns.
I release Allie so quickly she falls against the shelving. Her head strikes a barrel with a dull thump, and she drops her journal.
“Ouch,” she breathes, long, dark eyelashes fluttering in shock.
“Shit. Sorry.” I help her back upright, thrusting the book into her hands. She’ll be black and bruised at this rate, and I’ve barely touched her.
Raking a hand through my hair, I mumble, “Someone’s coming.”
Dazed passion shimmers in Allie’s eyes before bitter resoluteness sweeps it away. It’s painful to witness, and I can tell it’s a hurt she’s experienced before. She steps a few inches away from me.
Fuck.I’m the world’s biggest asshole because, for all the talk about keeping my distance, I practically forced her to kiss me.
The barrel room door creaks open.
