“Ah, I get that.” He moved a little closer, his back stiffening from sitting on the sand. “What led you to that specialty? Is it a specialty?”
“Yes, I guess.” She finished her beer and set it aside, then rested back on her elbows. Her feet were bare and her toenails painted a soft pink. Sand had stuck to their tips. “I believe in justice, innocence until proven guilty.” She paused. “And I also believe people should be tried for the crime, not for their past, or their race, or how they look, but on evidence, hard evidence.”
He mimicked her by lying back, though he turned to his side slightly, to face her, then propped his head on his elbow. “Yet you judged me, the moment you saw me.”
“If that’s what you think.” She rested her head on the sand, lying completely flat.
He suspected her eyes were closed behind her shades. But she wasn’t sleepy. He’d said what he had to get a reaction. And her reaction had been to ignore it.
“Yeah, I do think. You saw a troublemaker in leathers. A guy not worthy of your attention.”
“How do you figure that?” She frowned.
“Because.” He reached for her shades and gently took them off. He hovered his face over hers, looking deep into her now open eyes.
Her breath was sweet. Her skin was perfect.
“Because,” he went on, “there was no way in hell you were ever going to call me, Leah. That you would ever consider a date with me.” He paused, his heart thudding. Her body was so close to his. A few inches and he’d be touching her. A quick shift of position and he’d be over her.
But he didn’t want to frighten her and have her flee. At this second, she was as skittish as a deer, and he had to play it slow. He had to stay in control even if every instinct was to claim her as his own in a frantic, sweaty, naked tangle of their limbs.
“That’s not true,” she said.
“You know it is. You were never going to call, which meant I had no choice but to play dirty to get your attention.”
Her breath seemed to hitch, and she swiped her tongue over her bottom lip. Her cheeks flushed a little. She wasn’t so cool and composed now. “You’ve got it,” she said softly.
“What do I have?” He leaned closer still, his face shadowing hers.
Her pupils dilated. “My attention. You have my attention, Carter Harris.”
Chapter Seven
Leah pressed her legs together, her muscles tensing from her belly to her toes and everywhere in between.
Carter had blocked out the sun. His face was all she could see. She was drowning in his eyes. He was witnessing the truth, her truth. She had judged him on his cut, his Harley, and his willingness to run with the devil.
A devil that was right now telling her that kissing him would be the best thing to ever happen to her.
“Good.” He kind of smiled. “That was all I wanted, for you to take the time to review your judgment of me.”
“What do you want me to see?” she asked softly, almost afraid to break the spell that had wrapped around them.
“A guy who likes a girl.” He touched her cheek with the crook of his index finger and ran it to her chin. “That’s all, nothing more.”
“I get the feeling there’s always more with you, Carter.” Where he was touching her tingled, as if she was super-sensitive.
He closed his eyes, his lashes long and casting small shadows on his cheeks. A muscle flexed beneath the stubble on his jawline.
Her breaths were shallow as she waited for him to speak.
“The question is, Leah…” He opened his eyes and nipped her chin. “How much more do you want?”
Her nipples tightened, and she had a sudden craving to have it all. All of Carter Harris. To suggest they rush into the beach house and rip each other’s clothes off. Fuck. Fuck hard, as if they’d never fucked before and never would again. As if their lives depended upon it. “I … I don’t know.”
“You don’t know how much of me you want?” His eyebrows lifted.
She swallowed.