Caged - Page 13/162

“Why the frown?” Deacon said. “What’d I do now?”

That sounded a little paranoid. “Nothing. I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

She faced him. “Are you really interested, or just making polite conversation?”

“Babe. I’m not so much with polite conversation. You know this about me.”

“True. So I was thinking about taking a wildflower hike in the foothills.”

“Lemme know when and I’ll make sure my gun is cleaned before we go.”

We again? Really? Before she did a total dork move and squee’d, the gun comment registered. “Why would you bring a gun?” And why hadn’t he shot out a derisive remark about her stopping to smell the wild roses?

Because this Deacon—with the hot eyes and even hotter kisses—isn’t the brooding Deacon you know.

“Bears,” he said without sarcasm. “Those motherfuckers cover a lot of ground in the summer. Better to be safe than bear meat.”

“You like to hike?”

“I’ve never been. I’ve never been to a roller derby bout either.” A half smile flirted on his lips. “You’re getting me to try all sorts of new things.”

“I’m sure there are all sorts of new things you’ll get me to try too,” she returned with a provocative look.

After tossing his sunglasses on the dash, he placed a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist. “I stick to the basics when it comes to sex.”

“The basics?” she managed to get out. The heat in his eyes burned away the moisture in her mouth, making it hard to form words.

“Hot, wet, and as often as possible.” He sank his teeth into the fleshy part of her thumb.

She bit her lip, but a moan escaped.

“You don’t get to do that.”

“What?”

“Try to keep quiet when you like the way I touch you.”

Molly felt her face and neck flush, but she didn’t look away.

“Sexy thing,” he murmured. “You tell me when it gets too intense.”

“Is that even possible?”

His eyes darkened. “Jesus, Molly.”

“I’m not being flip. I’ve only ever experienced intensity in small, singular doses.”

“And yet you say this doesn’t scare you?”

“How can I fear what I’ve never had?”

“Killing me here, babe.”

That gruff, sexy tone sent a shiver up her spine.

Deacon continued to stroke her cheek. “One hour.”

“What?”

“One hour since I apologized. One hour since you agreed to give me a chance. One hour since I kissed you. I oughta be happy we’ve come this far in one hour.” His thumb returned to her mouth, and he outlined her top and bottom lips. “But it ain’t far enough. If I had my way? We’d spend the next hour, the hour after that, and the hour after that in my bed.”

Her sex pulsed. If he could rev her up this fast with words, what kind of heat and power could he generate with his mouth, his hands, and his body?

Atomic-level heat.

“You know . . .” she offered, “roller derby is overrated.”

“Don’t even fucking kid about that,” he growled. Then he kissed her hard. “Get outta the car.”

“But—”

“Leave this for now. We’ll revisit it when we’ve both got clearer heads.”

Molly freed her inner temptress—who preferred instant gratification and thought revisiting this later was a bad idea—and unzipped her hoodie.

One tine at a time.

Deacon’s avid gaze followed that movement.

She stopped below her cleavage. Then she pulled the tank top aside. “Which mark screams clearer head to you? The one you gave me? Or the one I asked for?”

He bent his head over her chest.

She expected a quick nip, not a featherlight kiss.

Locking his gaze to hers, he righted her clothing. “Let’s go.”

Deacon draped his arm over her shoulder as they walked toward the school. “How long does this last?”

“It depends. I’d say . . . two hours. Why?”

“We’re eating after.”

They reached the ticket table by the door. She said, “Two, please.”

Deacon paid before Molly fished her wallet out. “When we’re together, I pay. Always.”

“That’s archaic.”

“Get used to it.”

With the large crowd in the gymnasium, Molly was relieved to see seating and not standing-room only. She pointed to the top of the bleachers. “That’s the best place to watch.”