Page 8 of The Single Dad Project

She squinted at him. “Is there something subliminal in that choice? Like you’re trying to tell me you’ll be the first man to rock my world?”

His eyes narrowed. “One, you should never sayrock my worldagain. And two—” that quirk of a smile had her belly trembling “—I was actually thinking of Adam fromBuffy the Vampire Slayer.”

She scrunched her nose. “You mean the Frankenstein made from demon and vampire parts? That Adam?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “He was the first of his kind, too.”

“Not really. Daryl Epps steals that honor. I mean, he was reverse engineered by two high school students instead of the military, but the science is the same.”

“Science.” He arched an eyebrow. “Daryl was a zombie not a totally new creation. Doesn’t count.”

Oh. Well. “Touché.” She frowned although humor and heat swirled in her belly. Crossing her arms, she said, “I’ve never debated Buffy canon as foreplay but strangely—” she tilted her head, scrutinized him “—it’s sexy. And I didn’t believe it was possible, but you just got hotter.”

He snorted. “Ditto. But you are giving me a couple of firsts tonight, and that alone makes you sexier. And too intriguing for comfort.”

Now it was her turn to snort. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve never had a one-night stand before?” she challenged.

“I’m not telling you that.” He paused, and his bright gaze grew hooded. That look punched her directly in the chest and spread into a glowing warmth as if she’d slung back another gulp of the scotch he’d been drinking earlier. “But I’ve never had a one-night stand withyou.”

Oh.He was good.

And damn, she might actually believe him.

Stop that. He’s here for one reason. Sex. Hot, sweaty, mind-blanking sex. Remember your priorities.

“You haven’t had one with me...yet. About that...” She waved a hand back and forth between them. “You think we can get started on that?”

“Queen.” A shiver tangoed down her spine at both the name and the rough silk voice wrapped around it. “Come here.”

For the second—or third?—time that evening, she tried to dredge up some sense of rebellion or affront at being ordered around. Seriously,something.

But instead, her feet—and vagina—snatched control, and she walked forward, crossing the small space separating them. She came to a halt in front of him, tipping her head back to meet his steady hazel gaze. This close, his earthy scent wrapped around her like an invisible embrace. It teased and taunted, and another quiver rippled through her. One born of anticipation, impatience. Need.

And when he lifted one of those thickly muscled arms and slid a hand around the nape of her neck to cup it, that need almost collapsed her legs from under her.

“I get you’re trying to reduce me to a walking dick, so this—” he squeezed her nape “—isn’t personal. But for me, there’s nothing morepersonalthan a woman allowing me inside her. Even if it’s only for the next few hours. We’re going to be intimate, and I won’t let you use me any more than I’m going to be using you.”

Panic spiked behind her sternum, and though logic reasoned she was being ridiculous, that admonishment didn’t do shit for her racing pulse. No, this was supposed to be a straightforward fucking not, not...intimate. He had the wrong woman for that.

She raised her hands between them, flattened her palms on his chest, preparing to push him away. “Listen, I—”

“It’s fascinating how that seems to scare you,” he murmured, interrupting her. Bowing his head, he brushed his beautiful lips up her throat. “I see it in your eyes,” he continued, and the timbre of that deep voice vibrated against her skin, causing a hitch in her breathing.

Well, that was if she’d been actually pushing air out of her lungs. That necessary function halted as soon as his mouth touched her for the first time.

“No, it doesn’t,” she rasped. And lied.

His low chuckle hummed over her throat, sending waves of sultry, damn near tropical warmth undulating through her.

“Little liar,” he accused, voice rumbling with humor. And something else. Something darker, thicker. Hotter. “But I’ll let you have it, queen.” His teeth grazed where his lips had trailed, leaving a hint—a forewarning—of sharper edged desire in their wake. “But right here is where you need to make your decision.”

He lifted his head, and the gleam in his eyes darkened the gold-and-green hues until they appeared a rich amber. “Are we going to give each other what we need, or are we over before we start?”

It was really unfair of him to ask her that question while that beautiful, sinful mouth hovered only centimeters above hers. How could he expect her to concentrate when such extreme temptation distracted her? When she could practically taste the flavor of his kiss on the breath that brushed her lips?

His hand briefly tightened on her nape. “What’s your answer?”

If that squeeze on her neck—and the corresponding exquisite ache in her sex—hadn’t already tipped the scales to a resounding “yes” then that note of impatience that crept into his voice sent the scales toppling over.

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