Jill Shalvis - Strong And Sexy

“Not necessary.”

“I think it is.”

“I can get myself inside, I manage to do it every day. I’m not crazy, damn it.”

“Okay,” he said agreeably. “You’re not crazy. Explain tonight.”

“Before or after the closet? Because that part? That was crazy.”

His mouth twitched. “ After you kissed me.”

“ You kissed me .”

“No.”

“Yes. You held up the mistletoe and leaned in and-”

Oh, God. She’d kissed him .

He let out a sound that might have been a half laugh, half growl as he stepped forward, into her, slipping an arm around her waist.

“Hey-”

Whipping her around, he shut the door and pressed her back against it, trapping her between the hard wood and the even harder length of his body, which freed up his hands to cup her face as he kissed her.

Really kissed her, and holy smokes, she was out of her league here with him. So out of her league.

He nibbled at her mouth until she opened for him, a feat that took less than a heartbeat because damn, he knew what he was doing. She found herself wrapped around him like shrink-wrap, kissing him back with everything she had, which caused a low, sexy rumble from deep in his throat. His hands got very busy, gliding down her arms, her hips, her bottom, which he squeezed, before moving up again, to her back bared by the dress.

The feel of his fingers on her skin brought a shiver that had nothing to do with the fact that they were both chilled and dripping water on the floor, nothing at all-

His industrious fingers played in the black velvet strings crisscrossing her back, entangling with the knot, and she went still. If he loosened it, the thing would release the entire top half of her dress.

He kept playing.

She stopped breathing.

Lifting his head, looking into her eyes, he smiled, as his fingers dallied with the string, and then…oh God and then, very lightly pulled.

Still not breathing . “Shayne-”

His eyes were sexy and slumberous as his hands slid down her body one last time before falling away. “ Now you can say I’ve kissed you.”

She was breathing again, like a marathon runner now. The only thing that made it even halfway acceptable was the fact that he wasn’t breathing any too steady either.

“Dani?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You have no idea what I was going to ask.”

“You were going to ask me out. I don’t think so.”

He let out a low laugh of a genuine amusement. “I was going to ask you not to leave your key under the mat.”

Her face bloomed. “Oh.”

“But just out of curiosity,” he murmured, still looking amused. “Why wouldn’t you go out with me?”

“Doesn’t matter, since you weren’t asking.”

“Why, Dani?”

She sighed. “You don’t want to know.”

“No, I do. I really do.”

“Okay.” She shook her head. “You’re a ten.”

“A ten?”

“Yeah. And tens? They date tens. And sixes date sixes. If a ten dated a six, then the six is pretty much just asking for a heartache.”

He blinked. “Was that in English?”

“Never mind.” She tried to open her door to kick him out but he blocked it with a palm on the wood above her head.

“You think you’re a six?” he asked.

She controlled her wince. “I know I presented as a three, but on a better day, I can be a six.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, pressing it into her hand. She looked down. A business card.

His.

“My cell-phone number is there if you need me.” Leaning in, he put his mouth to her ear. “And on your worst day? You’re a ten plus.”

Her knees wobbled. He was strong and smart and sexy-and colossally wrong for her. She recognized it, he had to recognize it, and she just hoped she was also smart enough to remember it. “I won’t be calling, Shayne.”

Something flashed across his face. Resignation? Regret?

Lingering heat?

Definitely lingering heat.

Fine. Great. So they were both still a little turned on. They were adults. They could deal with it. Yanking open the door, she gave him more than a push this time, it was far closer to a shove, and she knew the only reason she was able to budge him at all was because he let her.

Gaze still locked on hers, he stepped back, opening his mouth to say…

She had no idea because she shut the door. Shut the door on a hot man who thought she was hot too.

Ten plus? She fanned her suddenly hot face with her hand. Maybe she really was crazy. Dragging a deep breath, she moved into the living room, kicking off her worthless shoes.

God, what an evening. She’d left a few dishes in the sink, and she had some reports from work spread across the kitchen table, but the place was warm and cozy. Home sweet home. Grabbing a spoon and her carton of ice cream, she headed toward her bedroom. She needed to ditch the little black dress ASAP, get a hot bath, and then fall into bed. Just as soon as she consumed a thousand calories or so.

When Shayne got back to Sky High, the last of their guests were just leaving and Maddie was pouring the happy, and quite drunk, bride-to-be into a cab. Sandra caught sight of Shayne, dragged him close and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Thanks.” She was a little goofy and a whole lot drunk. “Best party ever.” She would have given him another kiss, right on the mouth this time, if Maddie hadn’t rescued him and shut the cab door on Sandra.

When the cab had driven off, Maddie turned to Shayne with her hands on her hips. “What is it with you and women? It’s like you’re irresistible or something.”

“Maybe I am.”

She laughed.

“Hey,” he said, following her back inside to help clean up. Walking around the lobby with a trash bag, he took a good, long look around, shocked at what he saw. Looked like the disasters at one of the frat parties he and Noah and Brody had had in college. “For a bunch of rich people, they sure were slobs.”

“Hello, Mr. Kettle.” This from Brody, who was sprawled on one of the couches, tie loosened, working his BlackBerry.

“Just because I grew up around these people doesn’t mean I’m one of them.”

Brody snorted.

Shayne looked at Maddie, also walking around with a trash bag, then back to Brody. “Who’s the one not getting their hands dirty?”

Brody didn’t bother to answer.

Shayne threw him an empty bag. “Feel free.”

“Yeah, I don’t do trash.”

Maddie righted a tipped-over potted plant, the trash bag at her hip definitely clashing with her teeny, tiny, heart-stoppingly clingy silver cocktail dress. “Tell him you want a raise, Shayne. Let’s watch his blood pressure rise.”

Brody narrowed his eyes at her. “What does that mean?”

“That you’re looking quite comfy on that leather couch. If Shayne is Mr. Kettle, I think you’re Mr. Pot.” She moved to a wall to straighten two crooked pictures. “And a cheap one at that.”

“All I said was that we pay you a helluva lot of money. I didn’t say you weren’t worth it.”

“That’s because you can’t say that. Not when you know I am worth it, every single penny. Why are you still here anyway? I thought you had a date. You get stood up?”

“No.” But Brody scowled. “Maybe.”

“What a shock, what with all those pretty words and heart-stopping smiles.”

Brody looked at her, the air crackling between them. The silence grew, until Shayne opened his mouth to suggest they just knock it out like a pair of horny teenagers to see if that helped, but Maddie asked him a question.