And itreallywas.
“You enjoy tormenting me?” he asked.
I didn’t know my flirting was tormenting, but so be it. There was something about Max that made me want to act on my impulses. Sue me, but I’d had a few deprived years. To put it plainly, I wantedsomekind of intimacy, and that was very hard to get when every man I kissed shit the bed.
“Yes, I do. It comes with its perks,” I admitted.
He seemed flustered. “And what might those be?”
“Getting under your skin, for one.”
“And two?” he asked.
I watched him intently. I thought about kissing him again. I couldn’t kiss him. Especially not here, a few feet away from being seen by my entire family.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he demanded.
“Like what?” I persisted, playing dumb for all I was worth. A slow smile spread across my lips.
“You know what.”
My hand, seemingly of its own accord, drifted up his chest, tracing the line of his collarbone before coming to rest on the warm skin of his neck. He stayed silent, his eyes never falling from mine for even a second. My heart hammered against my ribs, urging me forward, while my mind screamed warnings.
Was I really going to kiss him?
Oh gosh, I think I am.
I knew what kissing Max meant, but before I could talk myself out of it, I was leaning against him, closing the distance between us.
The man didn’t make it difficult at all. He didn’t pull away like I expected him to.
Instead he did what he shouldn’t have done.
Heallowedme to kiss him.
His large hands, warm and unexpected, settled on the small of my back, pressing me flush against his hard frame.
Max was kissing me back.
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but there was something about the way he held onto me that spoke more than the kiss could.
It felt intoxicating to hiss him. Or maybe that was just the gin. Either way, his lips were warm and fit so well against mine. So did his hands. They grabbed onto my hips and then went lower, and lower ...
The moment was short-lived. As if coming to his senses, Max pulled away, his grip tightening on my jaw. He seemed frustrated—not with me but himself.
“Go,” he demanded. “Keep your lips off mine, Rosalie. I am not the gentleman you think I am.”
Right.
I wouldn’t miss him too much.
CHAPTER 10
MAX
