Tarnished(7)
“So, it’s you?” He chuckled again. “I make you nervous, and it’s your fault?”
She smiled and looked back up at him. “Yes.”
Geez. He could melt chocolate with his gaze. She squirmed under his intense scrutiny as he seemed to memorize her face. His scent snaked around her, encompassing her, permeating everything until she knew she’d never be able to escape it or forget it. A tingly sensation raised the hairs on her skin. Her pulse sped rapidly and her sex throbbed.
“I don’t bite,” he teased.
The last wolf did.
His face fell. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For whatever happened in your past to put that look in your eyes. I promise I’ll never do whatever it was. I’m a nice guy. I swear.” His brows furrowed.
She’d have to give him credit; he was sincere. She almost believed him.
“I’m Drake, by the way.” He held out a hand.
“Mackenzie.” She tentatively took his hand and immediately regretted the action. Yep, she was in trouble. Even though they were both sitting on the ground, barely moving, they shocked each other on contact. And the residual wave of electricity shot up her arm and down her body, which now hummed with awareness. She released him and rubbed her palms on her knees.
“Nice to meet you, Mackenzie. So, what happened to the other guy?”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “Kenzie. My friends call me Kenzie. What other guy?”
“The one you left with two years ago. Thought he’d staked his claim. He looked intent.”
Wow, he missed nothing.
“Oh, he was mistaken.” She pursed her lips. “The asshole.”
Drake’s smile broadened. “Again, his loss. My gain. I’m batting a thousand today. I figured you two had run off into the sunset together.”
“Hardly. More like into the hall where I proceeded to bite his tongue, literally, when he shoved it in my mouth.” She cringed at the memory. “He was a pig.”
“Wow.” Drake scooted a few inches away from her, dramatically. “I’ll keep that in mind. Duly noted.” His voice was teasing, again. “Do you bite all men who kiss you, or just the assholes?”
Mackenzie swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t know,” she muttered. What the fuck is the matter with me? Did I drink a truth serum?
Drake’s mouth fell open, but he didn’t speak. He turned kind of pale. Good, at least she got the shock value out of her comment. If she was going to be honest, she deserved some sort of reward.
When he finally closed his mouth and swallowed, she watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. His muscular neck spread to his enormous shoulders, also ripped. He wore only a T-shirt, nothing fancy, but the thin material left little to the imagination.
Finally, he spoke again, softer this time. “Also duly noted.” He reached for her hand and clasped it where it lay on her knee. “I won’t take that information for granted.”
His palm was warm and rough. He had the calluses of a man who worked hard. She wanted him to run that palm up her arm and touch more of her skin. Was she in some kind of trance?
“I’m not…” Not what? Not interested? She was many things, but a liar she had never been. “I wasn’t planning on…”
“It’s okay. I wasn’t planning on… And I’m not… Either.” He grinned. His teeth were so white and perfect. She could smell his breath. Minty. If he kissed her, he wouldn’t reek like that Marcus jackass had. She stared at his lips, mesmerized. Soft. Inviting.
She licked her own lips.
“Stop that,” he muttered. He lifted her hand to his face and rubbed the back of her fingers against his cheek. The rough beginning of a shadow scraped over her knuckles and made her shiver. She wanted to turn her hand over and feel his face, his neck, his chest.
“Stop what?” Was she being coy? What the hell had happened to the Mackenzie Davis who had gotten out of bed this morning?
•
He shook his head and tucked his legs under him to stand. Pulling her up alongside him, he mumbled, “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Fuck me. I mean, fuck me hard. Holy shit.
In his wildest dreams, he never could have conjured up any images of today going like this. This woman was his. He could deny it. He could walk away. But, holy hell, no way was he going to do that.
She was skittish. Shit. She was more than skittish. She was unkissed! Except for the bastard who’d dragged her out of the room two years ago and played unfortunate tonsil hockey with her.
He needed to get her back inside. Not that he wanted to share her. Hell, what he’d rather do was drag her to his truck and drive across the state line as fast as possible. But she wasn’t that kind of girl. And he respected that. He would go slowly. It would kill him, but it would be worth it.