The woman was positively deranged.
“Fine. If that’s what you want. But when I tell you what you’re doing wrong, I don’t want you to try and physically maim me.” He couldn’t believe he was going to do this.
Kiss a woman he’d been thinking of more times than he probably should the past week. Kiss a woman whom he’d been wanting to kiss long before then.
He smiled a little wider now. Well, if it was what she wanted…
Chapter Thirteen
Benny couldn’t quite believe that she’d voiced the request, a request she’d been toying with asking for two days. She wanted to knock Luke’s socks off when they finally took that step, and who best to tell her—no, show her—than Lothario here? A man who knew women and probably had more than enough practice in this department before he’d even graduated junior high.
This was purely an experiment. A lesson.
But why was it that, now that it was going to happen, her belly was fluttering and swirling and she was having a hard time getting enough air in her lungs?
It was only Henry.
Henry.
She just wished he’d stop looking at her with that new glint in his eyes. A glint filled with mischief and something else…desire?
No. Definitely far from that.
“First, you’re going to have to get a lot closer to me than that,” he drawled, clearly enjoying this more than he should.
Of course. Why was she still sitting there like a slug?
She slipped her feet from under her and crossed the three feet to the spot where he was sitting. He patted the space next to him and, after drawing in another breath, she sank to the cushion, her shoulder pressed against his arm.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked. “Because you’re acting like you’re about to be sent to the guillotine. You need to relax.”
Sure. She could relax. She threw back the last of the wine and set her glass next to his empty one before making herself more comfortable, with one leg tucked beneath her and the other anchoring her to the floor.
She turned toward him, trying to ignore his subtle masculine scent, and the fact that she was sitting so close to him that she could see the slight stubble that covered his jaw. That his brown eyes were more caramel than almond colored, with flecks of green she hadn’t noticed before.
Everything seemed to have slowed down—or maybe that was the two glasses of wine—as Henry’s hand moved toward her face, brushing off a wisp of hair that had fallen, before his hand cupped it, strong and certain.
And then his lips.
Holy Hannah. They were opening and moving toward her now and he looked so determined—
Call it nervousness or the fact she was about to jump from her skin, but she dropped her head as a nervous laugh burst from her lips, then the laugh shook her belly and she was holding her stomach. “I’m sorry. It just hit me what we were about to do and I couldn’t stop—”
“Get it out of your system. Because nothing cools a guy’s ardor faster than being laughed at.” His voice was monotone and slightly irritated.
She looked at his face. Had she offended him? “No. I’m sorry. I got it all out. Let’s try again.”
“I don’t know. I’m only doing this as a favor, and if you’re going to act like you’re ten then maybe this isn’t a good—”
Once again, she had no freaking idea what was coming over her as the humor of the situation fled and now…now she only wanted to finish what they’d started…
But on her terms.
So before he could finish his sentence, Benny lifted her face and stopped him with her own lips. He froze, and for a moment they were stuck like that, two sets of lips, immobile.
But then the funniest thing happened. She could taste the wine on his mouth, smell the subtle clean scent of his aftershave, and suddenly she realized she wanted…more.
More of him.