He takes an easy gulp while I pant through mine as if I were in labor.
“Are you sold on this one?” He mock-toasts me as he knocks it back.
“Not really. It’s not special enough. I guess I could always head down to the gym and ask Belinda for the recipe.” I bite down on my lip while taking him in. “There’s just something about hot honey that just sounds sinfully delicious.” I take a bold step toward this man—this god, thisman-god, and run his tie between my fingers in one cool erotic motion. “I’m starting to feel the burn, Shep.” I lean in dangerously close to those magic lips and lock my gaze over his. “Do you feel it?”
His jaw does that thing again where his muscles tense, and it gives off a ridiculously sexy alpha male vibe that makes my thighs quiver on cue. I’ve always been unnaturally attracted to Shep Collins. I’m not sure if I would ever admit that out loud, but if Shep makes a move to land me horizontal, I’m not exactly going to fight him on it. In fact, I’m doing my best to signal it’s all clear up ahead. I am one big green light. Come on, Shep. I give his tie a little tug, wrapping my wrist around it as I pull him in. I’m not fourteen anymore. It’s time to play in the big leagues.
Shep takes a breath, his chest expanding so wide it brushes up against my own. His lip twitches as if he’s fighting a smile, a frown, something in between.
A hard groan comes from me. “For the love of all things good and evil, just give me a sign one way or another already. West Virginia is in the middle of a downpour, and if you’re not going to slip in for a visit, I need to hit the nearest frat house and find someone who is.” Okay, just for clarification, there’s no way I’d pull a Sunday. I’m all for walking on the wild side, but launching into a one-nighter with some toasted frat boy who more than likely won’t be able to find the right orifice isn’t my idea of a good time. I only said those things because I didn’t think Shep would actually reject me.
Oh my holy God.
I take in a sharp breath, and my eyes enlarge to the size of those condoms that we’re clearly never going to get around to breaking in.
He’s rejecting me. All the teasing and flattery, the sexual chemistry—I had imagined the entire thing.
My eyes close briefly as the blow-up vixen in me quickly deflates.
Kill me.
I blink up at him, my face heating to unsafe levels. I’ve seen those eerie documentaries where people spontaneously combust for no reason and burn the entire house down in the process, and if I don’t leave now, I’m afraid I’ll be putting Shep’s nice rental in jeopardy.
My fingers glide down his tie one last time, and just before I let go, Shep snaps me up by the wrist.
Those gloriously blue Irish eyes smile at me all on their own. A dirty grin glides over his face, and he exhales as if steeling his resolve.
“Are you okay with this?” His eyes ride over my body, scorching hot, searing my flesh without the benefit of a single touch.
“Yes,” I whisper so low I practically mouth the word. “Do you want me?” My stomach explodes in a vat of acid. Of all the desperate questions a girl can ask. I’m pretty sure if you don’t know the answer to that then you have no business surrendering your West Virginia for the very first time, because indeed my Virginia is a virgin territory, but I don’t dare breathe a word of it to Shep.
Shep glides his arm around my waist and pulls me in hard, his eyes still drilling into mine. “Hell yes.” Our lips collide with fierce determination as Shep presses me close aggressively, his hands quickly roaming up my back, his fingers digging into my hair. A lightning jag of electricity pumps from his body into mine and I feel ridiculously faint, weak at the knees and dizzy beyond comprehension. This is Shepherd Collins with his lips pressed up against mine. Shep—myShep—the one that vexed me just as much as he enchanted me for all those years. This moment feels frozen in time, already sealed in the time capsule of my mind as one of the greatest. Confession: I have dreamed of doing just this, many, many times before. And now here it is, the dream made real.
Shep walks us backward, navigating us with blind knowledge, our lips never leaving one another. A ferocious groan works its way up his throat as he takes a moment to pause and pull back with those drugged eyes, his lips red from the assault of my own.
“Last chance to get off the train.” He swallows hard, his hand riding over my hip and down my bare thigh.
“Hell no. I’m not getting off the train. In fact”—I snatch my purse off the floor where I had abandoned it just a few moments ago—“I’ve got a little surprise for you courtesy of that raunchy roommate of mine.” I pluck the masks out of the bag so fast Shep’s mouth falls open at the sight.
He snatches the black hood for himself, and a dark chuckle drums in his chest. “Return of the Peacock Princess and the Masked Man.” A dangerous smile expands on his lips.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any rope lying around, would you?”
Shep loosens his tie aggressively until it comes undone. “I’ve got something that will work just fine.”
Then he’s on me again with those heated kisses. Shep’s tongue works me over until it feels as if my mouth goes numb from the pleasure of it all. He leads me blindly to his bedroom and flicks on the light, landing us onto the cool comforter of his bed, a white duvet filled with down feathers—so not what I pictured his chamber of lust to look like. Shep carefully pulls my dress over my head and lands it gently to the floor, his eyes stuck on mine—and props to him, considering that strapless number he just plucked off had a built-in shelf bra. And now that the girls are free, I’m ten times more electrified than I was before. His eyes drift down my torso, and his lips rise on the sides with approval. I take his warm, thick hands and lead them over my body, encouraging him to explore all of my newly exposed places and he does.
The heat builds between us like a furnace, and I pull him in by the back of the neck, diving my mouth back over his where it belongs. The scent of his skin, the whiskey, that heady cologne of his sets my skin on fire with lust and wanting. My fingers get to work, fiddling with those stubborn buttons, evicting his shirt, unbuckling his belt, yanking open his pants, and I stop abruptly.
“I don’t want to see your face,” I pant, hardly able to contain my excitement. In record time, Shep has his hood in place, and I my feathers—and before you can saybeg,borrow, orsteal, he has my hands roped behind my back and attached to the bedpost with his tie. Something in me knew that a deviant like Shep had a post at the edge of his bed to secure his prey. If I had to guess, this was definitely not his first triple-X rodeo.
His kisses soften just a bit. He’s doing something with his arm, slapping the nightstand, opening drawers, and then it hits me.
OH MY GOD, HE’S GOING FOR A CONDOM! This just hit DEFCON 1.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh myGod! Now what? Now West Virginia pays for my foray into whiskey and organic raw honey. Damn those bitter brides for showing up and ushering me into an era of murder and S and M. Wait a minute…
Shep cups my cheeks sweetly in his palms and kisses me tenderly, so very sweetly I moan from the pleasure of it. This right here is what that darn drink should taste like. Shep and his hot honey kisses are enough to drive traffic to any licensed liquor establishment. But right now, I don’t want to share an ounce of this man. He’s all mine, and in a few moments, I’ll be all his in ways I never expected.
