Waking Up Married(11)
“Oooh, it’ll drive them insane,” she gasped, nearly bouncing beside him and making him wonder how deep her wicked streak went. And if it ever blurred the line into naughty. “God knows their imaginations are more colorful than mine.”
Giving in to another smirk, he offered, “I could help with that.”
He was joking. Mostly.
Megan stopped and shook her head, the straight ends of her hair brushing softly across her shoulders. “I’m sure you could.”
Even beneath the lights and glitz of the Strip, he could see the rise of a deep blush in her cheeks, read all the subtle signs of hesitation as they came. He could see her talking herself out of every maybe, what-if, just-a-few-more and only-this-once idea popping into her pretty head. He could feel the tension as she wrestled with her conscience about extending a night they’d both enjoyed.
He knew she wanted to... “But you have a plan.”
Honest. Intelligent. Funny. Independent. Megan was all that and more, with the kind of practical approach to love he couldn’t get out of his head. Eyes to the sky, he pushed out a long breath—that stopped abruptly when his focus caught on the neon sign flashing over her right shoulder.
She had a plan...but maybe it wasn’t the only one.
* * *
God, she didn’t want the night to end. But there was only one place it could go. And as much as the idea of falling into this man’s bed appealed to her, it wasn’t how she lived her life.
It didn’t matter that he seemed more soul mate than stranger. Or that she’d never be in a position to let go like this again. If she gave in, she’d regret it tomorrow.
And when she thought about this night, she didn’t want there to be any regrets.
So she swallowed and did what she had to do. “I have a plan.”
The words opened an emptiness inside her, different from the one that had been so much a part of her every day.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Carter.”
His mouth tilted in another one of those unreadable half smiles.
Tempting. So tempting.
“Megan, about your plan.” He caught her elbow in a loose hold. “There’s one thing I’m curious about.”
Facing him, she asked, “What’s that?”
His fingers slipped from her elbow down her arm in a soft caress and, catching her hand in his, he tucked it low against her back. Stepped in and, dropping his stare to her mouth, murmured, “Just this.”
And he kissed her.
At first, the shock of contact was all she could register. And then the slow, back-and-forth rub of his mouth against hers. The firm pressure. The gentle pull. The low-level current riding all the places they touched.
Yes.
Just this.
The perfect end to a night she wished didn’t have to.
Seconds later there was a breath between them—passing back and forth in a soft wash of warm and wet.
“Connor,” he murmured, close enough she could almost feel the vibration on her lips.
Megan blinked, but didn’t step back as she peered up into his eyes. “What?”
The corner of his mouth tipped. “Wanted to make sure you remembered my name.”
“Connor.” She sighed, closing her eyes to savor the moment just a little longer before she left. “That was very nice.”
Catching her with a crooked finger beneath her chin, Connor brought her gaze back to his. When their eyes met, she had to blink. It wasn’t the bittersweet sort of resigned longing she felt that was shining in his eyes. Not by a long shot. It was cocky arrogance and a sharply focused anticipation.
“Not really,” he said, curving his hand so it cupped her jaw. “That was getting you used to the idea.”
Her lips parted to protest, but before she had the chance to backtrack or reword her response, he’d swooped in again. Closing the bit of distance between them without hesitation. Taking her mouth as if it was his to do with as he pleased, making it his own in a way that had Megan’s hands rising of their own volition, her fingers curling into his tailored shirt, her moan sliding free of her mouth and into his. There wasn’t anything even remotely nice about this kiss. It was hot. Explosive. Consuming and intense.