Kissing Under the Mistletoe

She was moving past him now, clearly furious. Rafe knew he should let her go, let her cool off. Hell, both of them needed to cool off. But the thought of Brooke searching for—and finding—some other guy to be "wild" with had him seeing red.

He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. The sand was uneven where she was stepping, and he tugged her hard enough that she fell into him, her chest pressing into his, her chin still lifted for battle as she glared up at him.

"You’re not finding another guy to be wild with."

"And just how do you plan to stop me? Especially since you’ve already told me you’re not going to tie me to your bed."

A man could only be pushed so far...and that final taunt pushed Rafe a thousand miles past his limit.

His mouth came down on hers, hard and demanding. She met him just as fiercely, her tongue tangling with his, her lips sucking while he bit at hers, then biting when he was the one sucking in her soft, sweet flesh. One of her hands was caught between their chests where he was holding her wrist, while the other tangled in his hair as if she was trying to pull his mouth even closer.

She tasted faintly of chocolate, but mostly of pure, sensual woman. He’d been trying to convince himself that she was still just the little girl next door, but it was a woman he held in his arms. One with dangerously seductive curves and hollows that his mouth was perilously close to exploring after he’d had his fill of her lips.

"You taste so good," she whispered when he finally managed to drag himself away from her mouth.

He couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t pretend he didn’t want her more than he’d ever wanted another woman in his life. Especially when they were so close that he knew she could feel every inch of his desire against her stomach.

"So do you, Brooke. So damned sweet."

She lifted her head and the softly sensual look in her eyes nearly undid him the rest of the way. "Then forget all of your excuses, all of your reasons, and come to bed. Taste more of me. All of me."

He couldn’t help but reach out to trace the contours of her beautiful face with his fingertips. She trembled against him as he gently touched her incredibly soft skin. He had always been dominant in bed, but the reins had slipped from his hands the second he saw her standing there dripping wet in her bikini.

If this summer fling—one he clearly didn’t have a chance in hell of resisting—was going to have any chance of working, he’d need to work on his control.

"I’ve known you too long and I respect you too much to treat you like some girl I picked up at a bar."

When disappointment clouded her beautiful features, he hated seeing it so much that he did the only thing he could think of to make it go away. Their second kiss was even sweeter than the first, as this time he remembered to savor her more, to slow himself down and start learning the curves and crevasses of her gorgeous mouth.

Pure pleasure whipped through him as he ran his tongue over her full lower lip, then drew it in between his teeth. The little sounds she was making as his tongue slid over hers, the small tremors just beneath her skin as she pressed her wet body closer to his, had him struggling to contain the wild sensations jolting his system.

It was going to kill him not to just take her to bed right now, but even if they were just going to be friends who had sex—wild sex, God help him—he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t at least treat her well while they were sleeping together.

"We’re both going to think things through tonight, and then tomorrow night, if you still decide you want this—"

"I’m still going to want you, Rafe. Just like I want you right now."

He didn’t know how the hell he kept from kissing her again, but one more little kiss would be a direct gateway to taking her right there in the sand. He needed to make sure that she had the time to think things all the way through.

"Twenty-four hours." But even as he insisted on the waiting period, he couldn’t bring himself to actually stop touching her. Sliding his hand down her arm to thread his fingers through hers, he said, "And as a thank-you for letting me stay at your house, helping to clean up mine, and for finally getting me back into the lake, how about I take you for a ride into town for dinner?"

All she would have needed to do right then to push him over the edge of reason was lean in to kiss him again. One more kiss, and he would have been done for in twenty-four seconds rather than twenty-four hours.

He was more disappointed than he wanted to admit to himself when she simply nodded.

"Okay, I’ll accept your invitation to dinner, but I’ve got to take a shower first." She gave him the most beautifully wicked smile he’d ever seen. "A really long shower."

On that shockingly seductive note, she slid her fingers from his and began a slow walk up to her house.

He knew exactly what she was doing, that she was purposely taunting him with visions of her touching herself in the shower while he waited to take her to dinner. He had no doubt whatsoever that sweet little Brooke Jansen was going to keep pushing him closer to the edge during every one of the next twenty-four hours, and that she’d continue to laugh and smile through each and every one of them.

And hot damn if it didn’t make him want her even more, knowing that the good girl next door not only had such a well-hidden naughty streak...but also that it seemed nothing could dim the naturally bright light inside her.

Chapter Eight

Brooke dried and braided her hair before choosing a pair of skinny jeans and a blue and white long-sleeved striped top to wear for their motorcycle ride and night on the town. After she’d made her suggestive comment to Rafe about the shower, her legs had just about given out on the way back into the house. She’d never been so bold before, but the rush that had moved through her at his reaction was easily worth the butterflies in her stomach.