“If I dropped to my knees, it wouldn’t be to beg for your forgiveness.” He shot her a look that went straight to her core, and rested his hand on her leg. She pressed her thighs together to ease the ache he’d awoken yet again. “I’d be too busy rolling my tongue over your sweet little—”
She covered his mouth, no matter how childish it might seem. He couldn’t just go around saying these thoughts out loud. A girl needed time to prepare herself. “That’s enough of that. We’re in public.”
“That didn’t stop us before,” he mumbled through her hand. He yanked it down, pressed a kiss to her palm, and let go of her. “I’m not about to let it stop us now.”
She curled her hand into a fist on her lap, not sure what the heck to say to that. “You want me to go down on you, right here? In front of your family?” She shot a pointed glance at his lap. “‘Baby, let me taste you,’” she quoted from Seducing the Hot Enemy she’d read this morning. “‘You’ll love it.’”
Oh, crap. She hadn’t expected him to look at her as if she was actually doing it. Holy freaking hotness. If he kept looking at her like that, this might stop being fiction and become nonfiction. Despite her racing heart and sweaty palms, she didn’t drop his gaze or back off. Not this time.
“Oh, would you now?” His eyes seared her straight through her clothes, and he took a deep breath. He motioned the bartender over without removing his eyes from her. “I’m tempted to call your bluff.”
She bit down on her lower lip, just like the heroines always did in her books. Hopefully it actually looked more sexy temptress than hungry zombie looking for flesh. “Who says it’s a bluff, Doc?”
He narrowed his green eyes on her and laughed out loud. “I do. But if you’d like to prove me wrong…?”
She stiffened, wanting nothing more than to do exactly that. But she couldn’t. Not here. Not this time. She didn’t drop her gaze at first, but in the end he won the battle of wills and she looked down at her drink, taking a deep breath. Holy crap, he was intense. Her stomach was a knotty mess of desire, and he looked calm as could be.
He smirked and leaned out, tracing a finger over her tense arm. “Want to know how I knew you were bluffing?”
God, his finger on her bare skin was torturous. It made her want to jump him. “I have a feeling you’ll tell me anyway, so go for it.”
His hand dipped lower, skimming over her wrist. “Right here? Your pulse leaped, but not in an excited way, judging from the way you bit down on your lip.” So much for looking sexy. “You looked away for just a second when you spoke, and you also fidgeted while shifting your weight on the stool. Put them all together and it means you are bluffing.” The force of those green eyes made her want to fidget or twitch or something, but what would he read into it if she did? “You may be able to read people, but I can read you.”
“I’m seeing that.” She picked up her martini and took a healthy sip. She’d need it if he planned on talking to her much longer. “Congratulations on being so observant. Should I get you a card or a cake? Maybe a cookie?”
He chuckled. “Were you always this snarky?”
“I don’t know.” She stared down at her phone again, unable to look at him right now. She flipped through another email, trying to stare at her phone instead of him. Anything was safer than looking into those green eyes. “Were you always this condescending?”
“There you go answering questions with questions again. Ever the professional journalist.” He snatched her phone out of her hand and slipped it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. “You’re off the clock, Red. Relax a little bit.”
She frowned and held her hand out. “Give me back my phone. I have work to do.”
And a brother to answer.
“Not happening.” The bartender came over, but Tyler didn’t take his eyes off Christine. “I’ll have a whiskey, please. She’ll have another of whatever fruity drink she’s having.”
The pretty blond bartender nodded and walked off, but not before Christine saw her give Tyler a flirty smile. Tyler, on the other hand, didn’t notice it. He was too busy watching her. Her pulse raced. He needed to stop looking at her like he wanted to see her naked again. It was doing weird things to her psyche.
She gave him a small smile. “You don’t need to tell me to relax. I was fine until you came in here and started flirting.”
“Who says I’m flirting with you?” he asked with not so much as a grin on his stupidly perfect face. God, it wasn’t fair. “We’re just talking.”
“Please,” she said, turning back to her martini. She hoped she looked cool and calm in the face of his interest—but she was far from it. At best, she was a hot mess.
He shrugged. “You know, I thought about leaving you alone tonight. Not flirting with you for the rest of the week, even, after I got that text.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Right. I came in and saw you sitting over here, looking drop-dead f**king gorgeous, and I realized something.” He reached out and tugged on a curl, sending tingles across her scalp and desire coursing through her blood. “It would be pointless to even try to avoid you. In the end, we won’t be able to stay away from each other. Last night proved that.”
Her jaw dropped and she yanked her hair free. A mixture of rage and desire warred within her, making for a deadly cocktail. “It’s been eight years since we last talked, if you ignore the awkward ‘hi’ we shared at graduation. I’d say we’re pretty freaking good at staying away from each other.”
“That was only because we weren’t in the same zip code all that time.” He pressed his fingers against his mouth and inhaled deeply. Why did something so simple turn her on and make her palms get all sweaty? Why did she want to rip his fingers away and kiss him properly? Damn him. “But when we get too close…sparks fly. Inevitably, you end up pressed against a wall with me in between your legs. Mexico. Last night. Tonight…”
God, he was so freaking cocky. Of course, he totally pulled off the sexy confidence that seemed to come so easy to him, but she wasn’t about to admit it. It would only go to his head. “You sound like a Taylor Swift song,” she said, laughing uneasily. “‘Sparks fly?’ Really?”