Page 36 of Whiskey Splash

“What?! Why?”

“I didn’t know where the bathroom was.”

“And you couldn’t use that charm of yours to ask?”

“I was too shy.”

“Yeah right,” I stare at him, incredulous. “I can’t even imagine seven-year-old you as shy!”

“I’m shy about a lot of things,” he defends. “I still am.” His amber eyes turn all teddy-bear and adorable on me, but I’m not buying it for a second.

“Oh yeah,” I nod my head obnoxiously. “Like you were shy on my massage table the other day?”

“Woah, woah!” His grin spreads like sin. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”

“I’m making a point.”

“Why does everything always come back to my cock with you, Esme?” he teases. “I thought we were having a nice time, but you just keep objectifying—”

I slap him in the arm and he grabs my hand, not letting go.

“Tell me one thing you’re shy about?!” I throw back at him, squirming and trying to get out of his grip, but he’s got me good.

“I’m shy with girls.”

“Ha! You gave me your damn room number, Desmond. That’s the opposite of shy.”

“Maybe that’s the first time I’ve ever done that?”

“My ass!”

“Is gorgeous!” He nods as if agreeing with himself, then twists my arm and pulls me closer toward him. “But not the point.”

“Actually, you’re making mypoint right now.” I say, despite the fact that he’s pulled me into the middle seat and the sides of our thighs are now touching. “Ogling my ass for an entire yoga class is not shy!”

“That was a good class.” His eyes flick to my hips as he makes a “mmmmm mmmm,” noise.

I ignore him and continue to make my case. “Making cracks about your ten-inch cock all the time—not shy. Dropping your towel during your spa massage—not shy. Leaving me a giant tip after getting aroused on my massage table—not shy. Taking a television role where you’re going to be naked half the time—not shy. Do I need to go on?”

Desmond grins at me, not moving, his dark hair framing his face in a way that’s wicked and gentlemanly at the same time. He still has my hand pinned, but he’s not struggling with it anymore, instead he’s holding it against his chest with my fingers fanned out over one of his muscles. In fact, in my tirade, I didn’t even realize I’ve gotten in his face. My eyes flick to his mouth and his smile is so amused that I almost think he wants me to keep listing off reasons. Either that, or he wants me to lean in and—

“We’re here,” he says softly.

My heart thumps and it takes a second to register that the car has stopped moving. We’re parked in a wooded area away from the major cities of the island. I tilt to the side trying to look out the window, but his second hand swings up and cups the back of my neck. The heat of it is immediate and my eyes shoot to his. A soft tug pulls me forward and my heart only has a second to register what’s happening before his mouth is on mine.

I almost moan into the warmth and softness that blooms through my face as his lips tease me—it’s not a hot and forceful kiss, but one that’s light and exploratory. We’re breath and feathers of lips and a tight rope walking of sensitivity. I fall into the ease of it as his mouth opens and his tongue claims me. My fingers grip his t-shirt and the hand behind my neck increases the pressure. Shivers dance up my skin as I kiss him back, taking in his smell of soap and sunshine, eager for all the promises of what might come next. His mouth meets my intensity, the command of his tongue against mine shooting heat straight up my spine.

We’re both panting when he pulls back to catch his breath, putting his forehead against mine as his chest heaves beneath my hand.

“You’re right, Esme,” he says, in a low tone that hums as hot as my swollen lips. “I’m definitelynotshy.” Unabashedly, he drops his eyes down to take in my swollen lips and flushed face, moving his gaze even lower to the blush that spreads across my cleavage. God, that was only one kiss and my pussy is already pounding. Not to mention, his tongue is idling on the bottom of his lip like he’s barely started tasting all that he wants.

Desmond smiles, but then raps on the window signaling the driver. Embarrassment streaks through me as I realize how hot that kiss was and how the driver was right there, next to us. The driver gets out of the car and opens the door next to Desmond, who’s hand is still at the back of my neck, mine still clutching the fabric on his chest. I can only see the driver’s legs from my position, waiting politely for us. Desmond leans back in, not caring about the driver, and brushes his mouth against mine again—just a feather of a touch to reignite that live wire.

“Please forgive me for this,” he says softly before pulling his lips away and nodding outside of the car. “We’re definitely going to be putting that fear of heights to the test today.”

He flattens his palm against my knuckles on his chest and releases my neck. I look past him and the driver to see an outdoor adventurists sign. I squint, trying to read the print, and it takes a second before I can make it out.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” My heart ratchets.

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