“Well, here’s what I think about that,” Antonio said. “If he’s your boyfriend, go ahead and kiss him.”
Sophie’s stomach churned at the thought of kissing Stone in front of these strangers. Her cheeks burned with indignation. “I most certainly—”
“Darling,” Stone said, “I know you like to argue, but I think this will go quicker if you kiss me and then sweet talk this man out of that interview you dragged me down here to do.”
Sophie turned toward Stone. Had she heard correctly? “You know I don’t like PDA.”
“It’s a kiss, not a fuck,” Antonio said. “Now, either kiss him or get the hell off my property.”
Stone raised an eyebrow at her, the I-told-you-so smirk barely hidden from Antonio. It was obvious Stone knew which choice she’d take.
He was wrong.
Sophie E. Clark was a professional daydreamer. She’d do what it took to get the interview.
Not giving herself time to overthink the why of her decision, she stepped into Stone’s space and raised her chin. He stood straight, staring down at her like a still-framed photograph.
She reached up, her fingers trembling, and looped her hands around the nape of his neck. “You’re going to have to help me here,” she murmured. Even on tiptoes, she couldn’t reach his lips if he didn’t bend.
A half-amused smile curled his lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He bent down and their lips touched. A surprising warmth spread through her, followed by a clap of thunder outside.
Mission accomplished, she waited for Stone to step back. He didn’t.
Instead, he adjusted his head so that their noses weren’t quite so next to each other. His hands, which had been shoved in his jean pockets were suddenly gripping her hips, pulling her into him.
The chaste kiss took on a new verve. Gentle no longer applied. Rough could and did, though.
His breath had a hint of coffee and cinnamon. When his hands moved and fisted the material of her shirt, she opened her mouth to saywe better stop now, only he chose that moment to slip his tongue in between her lips.
Common sense flew out the window and was replaced with thrills and skipping heartbeats. Sophie, who had never experienced such headiness during a kiss, was not surprised when her tongue decided not to sit this one out. Nor did her nipples as they tightened against his chest. When he pushed into her, and she felt his erection, she moaned into his mouth.
Outside it began to rain. Hard. The sound pelting the tin roof like hail.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, that’s when Stone seemed to get a grasp on his common sense and stilled.
As they parted, a breathless moment hung between them as their gazes locked.
There was a flicker of something in Stone’s eyes—was it surprise? Approval? Frustration?
“I stand corrected,” Antonio said. “What questions do you have?”
Sophie’s breath was shallow as she glanced at Antonio, her mind so befuddled she had no idea what he was asking. “Umm.”
Stone cleared his throat, stepping back into his role with much more ease than she was capable. “Sophie, darling, where’s that list of questions you’ve been preparing?”
Sophie pulled an index card out of her skirt pocket. “Tell me about your hero moments.”
“Most of my hero shit can’t be repeated to a reporter,” Antonio said.
His muscle, a guy with a gold tooth and a scar on one cheek, patted the gun on his hip and chuckled. “You could tell her about how, back in the day, you could hotwire a car in under thirty seconds.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Antonio said, his easy smile never leaving his face.
Sophie swallowed hard. “Actually, all I needed to do today was meet you. If you’re included in the feature, I’ll let you know.” She grabbed Stone’s hand and turned ready to escape.
“Not another step,” Antonio said softly.
