Scout
Kissing can be good, or it can be awful.
Kissing Spencer is the best thing I haveeverdone. I have not kissed a lot of folks, but he is better thanallof them. I wonder if he might have created kissing because I have never been kissed this way. I never want it to stop. It might be the most intimate thing I have ever done with anyone.
“Scout,” his voice is rough as he licks at my mouth with his wicked tongue, driving bolts of pleasure right to my hot button. I am so turned on, I could leap this bar and mount him like a bitch in heat. “Do we need to stop?”
“No,” I murmur before I drag my mouth against his greedily. “Why would we ever stop this?”
“Well... uh... we’re being watched, honey.”
Someone clears their throat beside us as I tear my mouth from his. Frowning at the guy waiting there for a drink, I consider telling him to get lost. Can he not see we were in the throes of something here? Catching my breath, I step back, glaring impatiently at the intruder.
“I uh.... can I just get some beers?”
Taking a deep breath to calm down, I grab six beers. I do not know what kind this guy wanted or how many. He is getting six Michelob’s. Sliding them across the bar at him, I give him an acidic smile before sending him on his way. I will be ashamed of my behavior later, but for now, I do not care.
“Well now, that poor guy won’t dare ask for another round,” Sebastian teases, watching as thepoor guysulks back to his booth with his friends.
“Well, good. I was a little... engaged,” I joke with a wink at the hot lumberjack.
I am still reeling from that kiss. I want another. A hundred more. I was hoping he would dare me for that kiss. Now I wonder what more I could encourage him to dare me. There is little I would refuse if that kiss is any sign of how good he is at what he does.
“My turn,” he calls after I fill a refill for one of the few regulars still hanging about. Smiling the most charming smile I have ever seen, he cocks his head as his eyes trail over me.
Lord above, he is an attractive man. There is something so... solid about him. He has dark hair with coffee brown eyes that dance with mischief. His flannel shirt barely contains his wide, muscled chest and thick arms. He has rolled the sleeves up his forearm, giving me some major arm porn. His arms are covered in dark, intricate tattoos and the definition of his arms is so hot. I just imagine how he could pick me up or pin me down with arms that strong.
“I choose... truth,” he flushes a little and I would tease him for playing it safe, but he is so damn cute, I think better of it.
“Truth... did you come to The Rusty Nail for a drink, lumberjack? Or did you come here to see me?”
I am playing it fast and loose until I ask that question. I am holding my breath, wondering if he is feeling what I’ve been feeling. He has been back here a few times since that first day, and he always makes a point of talking to me. Tonight is different. Everything he says and does feels so different.
“Well, I figured that was obvious. How many drinks have I had, Scout?”
Frowning at his question, I glance at his mug of beer. Heat sluices through me as I understand his question. Every time he has come in since we first met, he never even orders a drink. I just give him a beer—one he slowly sips as he sits here. Grinning at him as my face flushes in shyness, I shake my head.
“Yeah, yeah, I guess that’s obvious. You come in for my charm or for my good looks?” I am quick to tease him, because making jokes is my defense mechanism, but I am hanging on to his every answer.
“Truth? Both, of course, honey,” he drawls, his eyes never leaving mine.
That heat inside of me becomes a five-alarm fire. Somehow, the way he says honey to me, it’s as if he created that word just for me. A rush of jealousy that he might ever call anyone else takes me by surprise. I am not that sort of girl. At least, I was never that sort of girl before. Not until this big lumberjack sauntered in here and began calling me his honey.
Suddenly, all I can think about is being alone with him. Climbing his big body, settled in his lap like a little teddy bear as he holds me. As he calls me his honey and kisses me until my panties combust. I rub my thighs together at the very idea of being in his arms as his tongue licks at mine, his hands on my skin, his sweet pine scent filling my lungs.
“Your turn, honey,” Sebastian reminds me with a crooked grin.
“Dare. Playing dangerously, sugar,” I tell him, holding my breath as I plant my hands on the bar top.
“Hmm... would you dare to take me home with you tonight?”
We’re both stunned by the dare, neither of us moving or speaking for a moment. Before he can backtrack or change his mind, I nod my head. I step up on the ledge behind the bar so I can get close to him. I lean over the bar top so I can get even closer. I brush my mouth over his as I take that dare.
“Yes,” I breathe against his mouth, my words trembling. “Come home with me tonight, Sebastian. I dare you.”
Sebastian moves, his big hand coming to cup the back of my head. His fingers tangle in my hair, fisting the dark mess until it stings. I love it. I love how he shows hunger in his eyes as he stares at me. He gives just one nod, no words, no teasing, and I almost climb over the bar and kick the other folks out.
“Yeah, honey, I want to come home with you.”
