“You’re a man who is sure of himself and confident. You’re a man who is used to having women fall at his feet. You’re a man who is exciting and interesting.” I lifted an eyebrow at him. “You’re a man who is tattooed and drives a cool vintage truck around, you’re a man who doesn’t mind getting dirty and can create things for a living. All of that is the total opposite of everything I’ve ever known, Zeb.”
His eyebrows went from the deep frown over his nose to shooting up on his forehead and disappeared under the dark fall of hair that rested there. A grin that could only be described as wicked slashed through his beard and his hands tightened where they were still holding on to my face.
“I thought you were going to say a man with a past. A man that has been to jail. I thought you were going to say a man with my history is the kind of man you have no experience with. You surprised me.”
If I was a different type of woman, I might have smacked him for that kind of ignorance. “Where you have been doesn’t define who you are, Zeb. I told you when we first met that I understand that people make mistakes.”
He grunted and moved his face closer to mine. “And here I am on your doorstep with another one. You want me to teach you about a man like me, Sayer? I’m pretty simple to figure out.”
I didn’t believe that for a single second, so I opened my mouth to tell him. There was never anything simple about passion. I didn’t get a chance to utter a sound because before I got a word out I suddenly knew exactly what it felt like to be kissed by a guy with a beard because he dipped his head and devoured my mouth with his.
It felt phenomenal.
His lips were soft and warm when they landed on mine and the brush of his facial hair had just enough of a rasp against my skin to make me shiver all over. He was still holding on to my face, so he tipped my head back. While I was still trying to get my head around the fact that this was actually happening, his tongue invaded my mouth, and I thought I was going to pass out from the devastating pleasure of it all.
I had been kissed before. In fact, I liked kissing. I liked the press of mouths together and the way you could tell what kind of man you had on your hands by how skilled or terrible he was at such a simple act. I liked that kissing was intimate and involved without having to have all your cards on the table. But more than any of that, I liked that kissing spoke to exactly how into you the guy laying it on you was. If it was a peck on the cheek or a brush of lips, it meant there was no spark. If there was a closed lip press and no tease of the tongue, it meant he found you attractive and kissable but probably wasn’t going to put forth the effort to be worthy of you. If there was a little nibble of teeth and the swirl of a tongue, there was promise and potential.
Then there was whatever it was Zeb was doing to me. It felt like a conquering. A victory. A battle fought and won. It felt like he was trying to make it so that I would never be able to kiss anyone else in my life without having to compare it to this moment, to the feel of his hard mouth contrasting with the soft scrape of his beard against my skin. It was more than a kiss, it was a sensation overload, and it was making all the crystalline barriers I had in place crack.
His lips were firm and unyielding as they pressed into my own. His tongue danced across mine as his teeth scraped delicately across my lower lip. I felt it everywhere and all I could do was hold on and let him devour me while I whimpered and shook against him. I think I kissed him back. I really wanted to be kissing him back, but I was so lost in the sensation, so caught up in the fantasy becoming reality and it all being so much better than I was prepared for, I might just have stood there like an unresponsive dope.
When he finally pulled back after tasting what felt like every hidden spot I had in my mouth and across my tongue, he was breathing hard and his dark green eyes were glassy with desire and something deeper.
“Men like me are about action, Sayer. We’re much better at doing than saying.” He let go of my face and took a step back from me. There was no missing that the front of his faded jeans had gotten much tighter. God, I wanted to rub my hands over that impressive bulge. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you at the Bar sitting with Rowdy.”
I cleared my throat before trying to speak. My head was still spinning from his assault on my senses and my libido was trying to take over my common sense.
“Zeb . . .” The word squeaked out even though I tried for collected and cool. “I like you and I think you’re incredibly attractive, but you don’t know me and I don’t really think you would be interested in me if you did. Obviously there is an attraction here, but I can’t act on chemistry alone. I’m not built that way.” Even though I wished sometimes that I was. “I can still help you out with your situation with the child. We’ll figure everything out together, so don’t worry about things being weird. We can forget about this kiss and focus on what’s important.”
I would never forget that kiss . . . not ever.
He growled at me like an animal. He put his hands on his lean hips and narrowed his eyes, which had lightened back up to their normal mossy color.
“Sayer, do you want to go on a date with me?” I opened my mouth to tell him of course I did but that it wasn’t a good idea with all the other things he suddenly had going on in his life. I also didn’t want to bore him to death and risk having him find out just how unappealing I really was. Before I could speak he held up a hand and pointed his finger at me. “Don’t give me a bullshit lawyer answer or tell me what you think you should say. Just tell me yes or no if you want to go out with me?”