“Shutting you up,” he murmurs, voice rough against her lips and very effective.
Heat slams through her like a body check as he backs her into the coat rack, mouth slanting over hers. Her knees wobble. Betrayal. Actual betrayal. Her body is team Tall, and she did not approve this roster move.
Naomi doesn't know if it's the stress, the adrenaline, or themaddening geometry of Garret Tall's body, but all her carefully held composure shatters. Her hands fist in the lapels of his tux, dragging him closer and kissing him back furiously. He groans softly, low in his throat, and her tongue sweeps in, tasting him in savage, unrelenting strokes.
He tastes like whiskey and cinnamon gum with a dash of infuriating arrogance.
She hates how good he tastes.
Hates it. Loves it. Wants more of it.
Every ounce of her anxiety evaporates into steam, into heat and instinct and devastatingly poor judgment.
He backs her into the rows of coats until her spine hits the wall, pinning her in place with the weight of his body.
When Tall grips a fistful of her hair and tugs her head back, pressing his mouth to her jaw, then lower, her knees give out. Just—gone. She lets out a sound she doesn’t recognize, part gasp, part moan, and his arm tightens around her waist, catching her easily. His other hand slides up, warm and sure, fingers wrapping around her throat. A low, helpless whimper slips out before she can stop it.
“I think I like you like this, Short Stack,” he murmurs, brushing his nose along her throat before kissing her cheek. “Turns out I found a way to shut you up.”
Naomi's hands fly to his hair—stupid, soft waves—and tug roughly, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. He lowers his head, licking a slow line across the swell of one breast before grazing his teeth over the same spot.
“Less talking,” she gasps, barely able to see straight. “More kissing.”
He obliges, mouth crashing back to hers, hand slipping lower. When his thigh presses between her legs and his mouth skims her jaw again, her fingers claw at his shoulders. Her body is all in. Her brain is screaming. Her common sense has packed a bag and left the building.
CHAPTER 16
GARRETT
This is either the best thing that’s happened since being traded to Hartford…or a catastrophic lapse in judgment.
Garrett isn’t sure which.
Naomi’s pressed against him and kissing him like she’s trying to win. Her mouth moves against his like she’s been dying to do this and is also furious about it. She fists his lapels like she wants to deck him and drag him closer in the same breath.
And fuck, he wants to drag her closer too. He wants to unravel her. Tear through that sharp mouth and those dagger eyes and the stupid, beautiful armor she wears like she’s bulletproof. He wants to rip off the sarcastic mask she hides behind and see what’s left when she finally lets go. He wants to see her fall apart—and know he’s the reason why.
He can make this good for her. He knows it.
Garrett’s hands trail down the smooth exposed skin of her back and then cup her deliciously tight ass. He presses her against the hard, aching length straining against his pants. Her delicate body fits against his perfectly, and every civilized thought burns away, leaving only raw, primal want.
“Jesus,” she whispers, breath ghosting over his jaw.
Garrett’s lip curls.That’s right, he thinks, hauling her closer so she can feel the full outline of what he’s working with.
No jokes now. Only facts.
Garrett wouldn’t call himself cocky, but he isn’t blind. He knows he’s…substantial. There have been more than a few moments in the bedroom where a woman has taken a startled breath and reconsidered her life choices.
Being built like a tree is great for hockey, decent for intimidation, absolute garbage for quickie hookups.
“You gonna make another stick joke?” he murmurs. He pulls back a fraction to see her face. Her cheeks are flushed pink beneath the dusting of freckles, her breaths are heavy, her blue eyes are wild. She looks positively edible.
“Let me process the trauma first, then maybe,” she pants, yanking him down for another kiss, all teeth and frustration.
Garrett groans into her mouth, because of course she’d flip the power back like that.
He’s never been more turned on in his life. Every brain cell except the horny ones have long since left the coatroom.
