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The fall of her hair teased against the back of his hand. “Tilson won’t show up because I told him you were off-limits.”
She went rigid. “You what?”
“Off-limits. I told him you were mine.” He plied his thumb along the fullness of her lower lip and pulled her closer still with his other arm. “Natalie, baby girl, consider my claim staked.”
Chapter 8
I TOLD HIM you were mine. Natalie, baby girl, consider my claim staked.
He’d told Tilson she was his?
That was so…arrogant.
So heavy-handed.
So hot.
“Staking claims goes both ways.” She looped her arms around his neck, bringing them into intimate full-body contact. God, this was such a very, very bad idea, but he felt so very, very good against her. “We have something in common because I don’t like to share, either.” She’d seen the women at the racetrack swarm him.
“Done.” One step forward and he pinned her to the wall. He bent his head. His cheek nearly touched hers, his hair tickled against her skin as he commanded softly in her ear, his breath warm against her skin, “Now, say it.”
She could barely think with the hard wall behind her and the hard wall of man in front of her. “Say what?”
Beau sifted one hand through her hair. “I told you you’d ask me to kiss you.” He traced the line from her ear to her jaw with the bridge of his nose, his breath deliciously hot against her neck. He was slowly, well, maybe not so slowly, driving her out of her mind. “So, ask for it.”
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