She sucked in a deep breath—here went nothing. “You like casual sex. I’m looking for casual sex, and I’m not worried that I’m going to get into any kind of trouble with you. Amy would go after you with her tattoo machine, never mind Beth and all those scary-looking tools in her garage.”
“Wait. What?” He gaped at her like something out of a comic book. “What did you just say?”
“I said that Amy would go after you with her tattoo machine.” She knew what he meant, but nerves had flooded her veins, and she needed a moment to recover, to breathe. What had she just suggested? “And Jo... Well, she’d get creative. She’d probably put you in one of her blog posts and claim that you have a small penis.”
“I do not have a small penis,” he informed her. “Also, did you seriously just hit me up for casual sex?”
“What if I did?” Emboldened by the alcohol, though it hadn’t quite drowned out the flutter of nerves in her belly, she inched closer to him. He didn’t pull away. “There was a spark between us that first time we met. If you deny it, you’re lying.”
Testing, she leaned in, just a little. Those pale eyes darkened, the lids lowering to half-mast. Meg felt an answering heaviness in her belly.
“There’s a hole in your theory,” he replied, and she was gratified to hear the slight rasp in his voice. “We know each other. Therefore, it’s not casual.”
“It’s whatever we make it.” Holding her breath, she reached out, laid her palm on his chest. Spread her fingers out slowly, savoring the sensation of the solid muscle beneath her touch. “Weren’t you just saying that we all deserve a gourmet meal once in a while? We know each other. We like each other well enough. Neither of us is looking for anything more than casual. So why should we deny ourselves a gourmet meal?”
A low growl emanated from his throat, and she felt it right between her legs. Her lips parted, and she ran her tongue over them to dampen them as she watched emotions play out over his face.
He liked the idea, that was easy enough to see, but he might still tell her she was crazy and that it wasn’t going to happen. With most men, she could shrug off that kind of rejection—one of the benefits of keeping it casual.
With this man, right here, right now? If he said no, she’d be fine...but she couldn’t deny that it would sting.
“Meg.” Dipping his head, he pressed his forehead to hers. His skin was cool, a sharp contrast to her heat. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
She felt the disappointment as she would a plunge into an icy pool, and she hated that it affected her so much. With a frozen smile, she pulled back, away from his touch, and lifted her chin.
“You’re probably right.” Shit, shit, shit. She was not going to cry. She wasn’t that girl. And why did she even care? “Let’s just pretend I never brought it up, okay?”
Turning, she walked away quickly, heading blindly for... She wasn’t sure. Anywhere that wasn’t here. The bathroom, maybe—she’d get herself composed, then request an Uber.
She made it three feet, and there he was again, stepping into her path.
“Can you please just let me go be embarrassed in peace?” she ground out, trying to step around him. He stepped with her, and she growled with frustration. Then he dipped his head, pressing those full lips of his to her ear again, and she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
“I said I didn’t think this was a good idea. I never said I wasn’t interested.”
DON’T DO IT, MAN.
Oh, but I really want to.
The good angel perched on John’s shoulder didn’t have a chance. John normally had a will of iron, but seeing that other man’s hands on Meg’s body had sent all common sense flying out the door.
“Cat got your tongue?” Meg looked up at him, challenge written all over her face. “Or do epic one-liners like that always render you mute?”
Arching an eyebrow, he opened his mouth to reply, but at the same moment, the deejay decided to play a track with enough bass to make the floor vibrate beneath their feet. Meg winced at the noise. When he pointed toward the front door of the bar, she nodded eagerly and didn’t protest when he placed a hand at the small of her back to guide her through the crowd.
He could feel the heat of her skin, emanating through the thin—very thin—cotton of her dress. A fabric like that would rip like tissue, revealing all of that soft peach skin, ready for his hands and his mouth.
The way she shivered beneath his fingers told him she might not be averse to that idea.
The air outside the bar was cool after the crush of bodies inside, a gulp of ice water on a parched throat. Watching Meg walk ahead of him, though, threw him right back into the fever.
“Did you know that your dress is completely see-through?” His voice was rough, the words catching in his throat as he guided her through the parking lot to where his car sat. He’d had too many drinks to drive, but it was the only quiet place he could think of to bring her.
“Is it really?” She smirked over her shoulder at him, the expression belying her words. “I had no idea.”
“Meg,” he protested, slowing as they reached his vehicle. With a gentle touch, he pressed her back against the passenger’s-side door, her back to the metal, him at her front. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“I didn’t dress like this for you,” she commented mildly, “but if I knew how much you liked red satin thongs, I might have worn one around you sooner.”
He exhaled harshly. Though he wanted to fill his hands with those lush tits of hers that were on full display, he forced himself to lay his palms flat on the car door on either side of her. Lowering his forehead to hers, he laughed roughly.
This was about to get really, really complicated, and yet he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to resist, not anymore. The last shreds of his willpower had disappeared with the word thong.
“John,” Meg whispered, frowning slightly, “I think it’s pretty clear that we both want this. So why are you holding back?”
Why was he hesitating?
With every other woman he’d allowed into his life, even for just a night, he’d had no connection. No attachment to them. Meg, though?
“I like you,” he admitted. He even...cared about her. He wouldn’t be able to just walk away.
“Liking me is good.” Meg grinned up at him, then trailed a finger down his chest, between his pecs...and then farther down. “See? I like you, too.”
Hissing, he caught her hand before she could take him to the point of no return. Still, her fingertips grazed the head of his erection through his slacks, and he saw stars.
“This part is easy,” he
