And Able. Lucy Monroe

every room of the house?”

      “I like to be thorough…in every way.”

      The message that went through her had nothing to do with his intentional meaning, she was sure. But she could imagine him being thorough as all get-out, and her fantasies were not about alarm systems. So long as they stayed fantasies, it was okay.

      “I see.”

      “A self-defense weapon won’t do you any good if it’s in the bedroom while you’re accosted in the kitchen.”

      The only person she felt in danger of being accosted by right now was him, and if that happened, the last thing she’d want to do was fight. Which was a really dumb attitude she couldn’t seem to shake.

      Sex was not worth getting all shook up over, so why did hanging around this man make her feel like an Elvis Presley song?

      “But mace?”

      “Yes. Since you won’t use a gun.”

      “You make that sound like a crime.”

      “It’s just…” He paused as if searching for a word. “Different.”

      “I guess a mercenary would see things that way.”

      “Former mercenary.”

      “Right…now, you are a security specialist.”

      “Among other things.”

      She wanted to ask what other things, but suddenly, talking just wasn’t an option.

      The lion inside him was looking at her through his darkening blue eyes and the expression was one of a lethal predator deciding how best to devour his prey. “I know you tried to forget it, but you besmirched my honor and you need to do something to make up for it.”

      “I do?”

      “Uh-huh.”

      How’d his face get so close? “Wh…” She had to clear her throat. “What do you mean?”

      “I think a kiss would do it.”

      “What?” Kissing was the best part of sex, she supposed, but that wasn’t saying a lot. So why did the prospect of locking lips with Hotwire sound so darn exciting?

      “A kiss, Claire. You know what a kiss is—when a man and woman—”

      She covered his mouth to stop the tantalizing words. “I know what it is, smarty pants, but why would you want one from me?” That was her fantasy.

      And as she’d just reminded herself, fantasy was well and good…acting on it was not.

      He licked her palm and she jerked her hand from his mouth.

      He smiled that devil’s smile that always sent her insides jumping. “Because you’ve offended me and now you must make up for it.”

      “You’re crazy. Nitro and Wolf offend you all the time. I don’t see you kissing them.”

      He smiled, his eyes so full of sensual suggestion, her knees went weak. “My friends are not beautiful women.”

      “Well, neither am I,” she said sarcastically.

      “There you go, besmirching my honor again. My mama would be appalled at your opinion of my veracity.”

      She wasn’t going there. “You don’t expect Josette to kiss you when she offends you.”

      “I would prefer not to end up in a fight to the death with Nitro. He’s a scary son when he’s riled.”

      “You’re not afraid of anyone or anything,” she scoffed. “Josette told me stories.”

      Something moved in his eyes and for a second she saw the mercenary who had gone into war-torn countries to bring out hostages. His was the face of a man who had killed, and would do so again, if it was necessary to preserve the safety of those he had committed to protecting.

      But just as quickly as it surfaced, the look disappeared, and Hotwire’s blue eyes burned with sexy challenge. “I want a kiss, Claire…are you going to give it to me?”

      “Sure.” She went up on her toes, intent on bussing his cheek.

      He turned his head just enough, though, and her lips ended up pressed lightly to his. She didn’t open her mouth, but she didn’t pull away immediately like she’d planned to, either. She hung there, suspended by the connection between their mouths, her body humming with excitement. One second the kiss was soft and light, and the next he yanked her against his hard, male body and his mouth slammed down over hers with definite intent.

      He took her mouth with the skill and power of an invading army…or one very formidable mercenary.

      The man certainly knew how to kiss. He ate at her lips until she was dizzy from the pleasure of it. His fingers massaged her jaw, as if encouraging her complete surrender, the only kind she was sure he recognized. She’d never experienced anything so amazing in her life as Hotwire’s kiss. She moaned out her approval while gripping the front of his white silk dress shirt in her fists.

      He growled something she could not understand against her lips and then his hands skimmed down, over her naked shoulders and around to the exposed skin of her back. His fingertips touched bare skin between the velvet lacing and played tantalizingly with the bow.

      Man alive, what would she do if he untied it? She’d read about being branded by a man’s touch, but had never known what it meant…until now. Her skin grew hot under his fingers, so hot she would swear burn marks would be left behind. Only it did not hurt like a burn.

      It felt too darn good for her sanity.

      Without really thinking about it, she opened her mouth. His tongue tangled instantly with hers and took immediate and absolute possession of the interior of her mouth. Pleasure jolted through her body, spearing her right between her legs and she arched her pelvis toward him.

      His hands traveled down over her bottom to the backs of her legs below her skirt hem, then came up under her skirt and back up her legs. She almost jumped out of her skin when he touched the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. He curled his big fingers around them, holding her while his thumbs kneaded her bottom and he lifted her into closer contact with his body.

      She undulated against him in a move that felt entirely natural, but froze in shock as her mound brushed against the hard roll of his erection.

      He wasn’t so inhibited. He used his grip on her to move her up and down the length of his engorged and rigid penis, making a low, masculine sound of pleasure as he did so. Tremors more powerful than a Richter 10 earthquake went off inside her.

      “Stop trying to seduce my maid of honor, Hotwire. It’s time to throw the bouquet.” Josette’s voice crashed through the passionate haze surrounding Claire, bringing her back to reality with a thud.

      What in the world had she been doing?

      Hotwire jolted like a man shocked by a live electric wire and broke the kiss, practically tossing Claire away from him. She tottered on her unfamiliar heels and almost fell. He reached out to steady her, his expression pained, but snatched his hands back the moment she stopped wobbling.

      The silence between them was more charged than the air after an electric storm.

      “You have five minutes and then I’m tossing the bouquet,” Josette said, her gaze faintly amused and assessing, before she turned to head back to the reception.

      It would take Claire five minutes just to get her breath back. How was she supposed to walk back into the reception on top of that?

      After several more seconds of charged silence, he said, “I’m sorry. That was way out of line.”

      “I liked it,” she admitted. Way too much, but hot kisses were one thing, doing the deed another, and she really didn’t want him thinking she was open for that kind of play.

      “No