Page 62 of Specter Bred

Only for once, dinner was the last thing on my mind, and I didn’t much care who might still be around us. My attention had narrowed entirely on her.

A loose strand of hair had escaped her braid and clung to her temple, while a pink flush still lingered across her cheeks from exertion. Her full lips pulled into a mean little frown as she finished checking our surroundings, and I found myself staring at them longer than I probably should have.

Maeve finally looked back at me, satisfied that we were alone.

“Let me make this clear, Boy Scout.”

She pressed a finger against my chest for emphasis, her other hand still covering my mouth.

“I. Do. Not. Like. Grizzly.”

She delivered each sharp word like a threat as she repeatedly jabbed her finger into my chest. Unfortunately, I was having a difficult time concentrating on her threat. My eyes betrayed me. They drifted downward, past the hand still covering my mouth, to where her body pressed against mine.

In her frustration, she’d closed every inch of distance between us. Her breasts rose and fell with each irritated breath, her hips angled against my thigh as she leaned in close enough that I could see the gold flecks in her sultry brown eyes. Then she shifted one of her thighs between mine, pressing against…

“If you ever say something stupid like that again, I’ll choke you to death with your own shoelaces.”

Something about the way Maeve handled conflict fried whatever part of my brain was supposed to be functioning. She didn’t retreat when she was angry. Maeve advanced. She shoved, crowded, and cornered until whoever stood in her way either fought back or surrendered. Firecracker ordered people around with the absolute expectation that she would be obeyed.

Including me.

Especially me.

And I found that alarmingly attractive.

There was very little about the current situation that should have appealed to me. She had me pinned against a wall, her thigh wedged between mine, was practically growling in my face, and had threatened my life less than a second ago.

Yet all I could think about was how incredible she looked doing it. Then my imagination took a decidedly ungentlemanly turn.

An image hit me with enough clarity that my mouth went dry. Maeve above me, those dark braids hanging over her shoulders and the same fierce expression on her face. Her hand covered my mouth, silencing me while those sharp eyes stared down at me with the same demanding look she wore now, as if there were no question which one of us was in charge.

Her thighs tightened around me as she rode me hard, keeping me exactly where she wanted me while I surrendered every scrap of control without a fight.

Dominating me.

Good Lord.

She closed her eyes and drew in a slow breath through her nose. When they opened again, the tension had disappeared from her brow, and one corner of her mouth curled upward. Her gaze dragged over me with deliberate interest before meeting mine again, a mischevious little spark lighting her eyes.

“Why do you care who I like anyway, Sammy?” she teased in a low voice.

Slowly, I reached up and peeled her hand away from my mouth.

“You already know the answer to that, Firecracker,” I said.

Instead of giving her space, I stepped closer and straightened to my full height, deliberately crowding her until she had no choice but to tip her head back to keep my gaze. Maeve was tall enough that most men couldn’t loom over her even if they tried, and she carried herself like she was the biggest threat in every room.

But I had a few inches on her.

For once, I made damn sure she noticed.

Her chin lifted higher as I leaned over her. Rather than move away, she drew in another slow breath through her nose, scenting the air. Her eyelids lowered, pupils widening as her lips parted on a quiet exhale. The tension around her mouth eased into a slow, wicked smile that sent heat straight through me.

Then—

“ARCHER!”

Her name cracked through the air like a gunshot. Maeve jolted, her head whipping toward the sound, and mine followed a second later.