The Cora Carmack New Adult Boxed Set: Losing It, Keeping Her, Faking It, and Finding It plus bonus material (46 page)

God, he thought he was so adorable.

And he was. Ugh.

“You still haven’t answered it.”

“Yes, well.” He reached out one finger, and collected a drop of water off my collarbone. “You make it hard to think straight.”

And
that
was an answer I would take any day.

Feeling a bit more in control, I turned to follow Jenny, looking back at him over my shoulder as his eyes trailed down my body again. I held back a smile and said, “Come on, soldier. You can finish staring at me at the bar. I promise I’m not going to disappear.”

His eyes flicked up to the ceiling, and he mumbled something I couldn’t catch under his breath. Whatever it was, I had him on the ropes. Point, to Kelsey.

There were three bars set up around the bath, which was good considering how many people were here. The group had managed to snag a few barstools at the nearest one and were ordering when Hunt and I caught up. I leaned over the bar, simultaneously allowing the bartender a good look at my cleavage while also giving Hunt a clear view of the ass that I had promised him as he sat on his barstool.

“Gin bitter lemon,” I ordered for myself, then looked at Hunt. “What do you want?”

“Nothing. I’m good.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “Make that two gin bitter lemons.”

In comparison to last night, I felt completely in control. Or I did, until I felt two fingers dip under one of the strips of my swimsuit that wrapped around my waist. Then I was tugged backward away from the bar into the space between Hunt’s knees. His hands rested on my hips, and my eyes fluttered closed.

This put every other night of my so-far glorious vacation to shame.

The stubble on his chin grazed my shoulder and he said, “Whatever happens tonight . . .”

Whatever.
Whatever
? Please let us be thinking of the same whatever.

“Yes?” I breathed.

“Don’t throw up in the pool.”

Damn it.

Point, to Hunt.

I
pulled out of Hunt’s grasp as a laugh rumbled deep in his chest.

“Just for that,
funny guy
. . . you’re buying.”

Our drinks arrived, and I raised an eyebrow at him in a challenge. While he stood to pay, I stole his barstool. It was both bizarre and empowering to be in a completely normal setting like a bar, but in a completely abnormal outfit that wasn’t much of an outfit at all. But I wasn’t complaining. It gave me the chance to get a good look at Hunt and his beautiful back—sculpted in muscles and cloaked in tan skin.

My military suspicions were confirmed by the USMC tattoo
above his right shoulder blade. It was a lesson in self-control, tracing the letters with my eyes but not my hands.

He turned to face me, drinks in hand, and I didn’t even bother pretending like I wasn’t ogling him.

He was ogle-able. And he knew it.

A laughing Jen leaned over and clinked her glass with mine, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Hunt.

Jen whispered in my ear, “Not that you would know it, Miss Distracted, but Operation Tau is going very well.”

“Sounds good.”

“And I’m guessing you won’t be coming home with us tonight?”

“Sounds
great
.”

I bit my lip to hide a smile, and Hunt’s eyes devoured me even as I sipped the sweet drink, savoring the smooth taste. His gaze flicked to his glass for a second, then back to me.

“So, Hunt,” I asked. “Where are you from?”

“Where am I
not
from would be the easier question.”

“Military brat?”

He smiled, and it took me right back to that first sighting. It was almost offensive how gorgeous he was. He was like that smart kid in class that ruined the curve for everyone else. Only instead of being good at equations, he was just good at existing. I crossed my legs, and his eyes followed. He said, “Are you calling me a brat?”

“If I were going to call you names, brat would not be my first choice.”

His fingers brushed my ankle, and that small touch set my skin on fire.

“What would you call me, then?”

“Well, I’ve already called you soft.” His lovely eyes narrowed. “But I’m not above admitting when I’m wrong.”

His fingers traveled from my ankle up the back of my calf. My muscles flexed on instinct, and I really,
really
just wanted to skip the witty banter and get to the part where his mouth was on mine. Or on any part of me, really.

“What brings you to Budapest?” he asked.

I shrugged and hooked my foot around the back of his knee.

“Nothing in particular. It just seemed like an
interesting
place.” I pushed lightly, and he stepped away from the bar, closer to me. “What about you?”

His fingertips were close to the sensitive skin at the back of my knee, and he stood close enough now that if I wanted to wrap my legs around him to tug him forward, I could. He answered, “Following a whim.”

I wet my lips, and his eyes dropped down to my mouth. I was
so
close to getting him to follow another whim.

I said, “Do you ever get any less cryptic?”

“I thought women liked a mystery.”

His voice pitched low, and it must have hit some special frequency because it sent vibrations all the way through me. Yellow and green neon lights flashed, casting a glow across his face.

“Women
love
a mystery. But only if we think we can figure it out.” His gaze met mine, the intensity there was at once unnerving and intoxicating. “Are you going to let me figure you out, Hunt?”

He braced a hand on the edge of my stool, and his head dipped down toward my ear. The heat of his breath struck shivers across my skin like lightning. “That’s a two-way street, princess.”

I was about to tell him that he was dodging the question when Jenny popped up over his shoulder, Tau close by her side.

“We’re going back in the bath, you two coming?”

Hunt pulled away, and I fought the urge to wrap my limbs around him to keep him from going too far.

I held up a glass that was still almost full and said, “We’re still working on these. You guys go. Have fun.”

Jenny gave me a quick salute in lieu of a goodbye, and I had a feeling we wouldn’t be seeing each other again tonight.

When she was gone, I took another sip of my drink and met Hunt’s gaze. He wasn’t holding his glass, and when I looked behind him, it was sitting on the bar completely full.

“You’ve not touched your drink. I know it looks a little girly, but I swear you’ll like it.”

He smiled and took a seat on one of the stools that the others had vacated. “I’m okay. Really.”

“Oh, come on.” I slid off my stool to stand in front of him. Leaning against his knee, I said, “Try mine.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re so serious. Loosen up a little. Have some fun.” I took another sip, then ran my tongue against my bottom lip to catch a stray drop. “Just try it. For me?”

I settled between his knees, and his hands went to my waist.

I imagined what his mouth would taste like, how hot our bodies would burn pressed together. Were his lips as soft as they looked? I could almost feel them, smooth and sure, at odds with the rasp of stubble on his chin. Just imagining it had my body coiling tight. I let out an unsteady breath, and he said, “If you’ll answer a question for me.”

I tilted my head just an inch, and one of his hands cupped the curve of my neck.

“Deal.”

I took another sip of my drink, and then handed it to him. Water dripped off the outside of the glass, and he stared at me for a few seconds. I didn’t get his reluctance, and I wondered if it went back to that chivalry he claimed not to have. He acted like he didn’t trust himself where alcohol was concerned. And I, for one, was one hundred percent in favor of him getting a little crazy. With me, specifically.

He sighed, and his eyes flicked down to the half-empty glass. He pulled it to his lips, and took a quick sip. I gave him a look, and he took the rest of it in one gulp.

I smiled in victory, and I had the overwhelming urge to taste what was left of it on his lips. I was leaning forward to do just that when he said, “My turn.”

I frowned, but a deal was a deal.

He paused, his gaze boring into mine, and his thumb traced my jaw. I could feel the pull of pleasure on my eyelids, and I had to fight to maintain eye contact.

“The other night . . . what did you mean when you said you were tired of being?”

His words crashed over me, and I flinched backward like I’d met a wall of water instead of his curious eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I turned my face away, but he nudged my jaw back to look at him.

“It’s just . . . I look at you, and I see a beautiful woman in the prime of her life, traveling to exotic places, with the world at her fingertips. But I think that’s just what you want people to see.” I glanced around me, panicked and uncomfortable, as he continued. “And maybe I love a mystery too, because I can’t seem to make myself stop thinking about what’s underneath all that, what you
don’t
let people see.”

His other hand came up, one finger grazing my temple like he could unlock some secret gate there. I flicked his hand away, and pulled out of his grasp.

“I told you . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was wasted. You shouldn’t take one person’s drunk ramblings as truth.”

With my back to him, I leaned against the bar, and picked up his abandoned drink, taking a long pull.

He said, “I don’t believe you. I think it was the most honest thing you’ve said to me. Maybe to yourself, too.”

Jesus Christ. Like I needed him trying to play therapist.

“Again with the knight-in-shining armor bullshit. I don’t need you to take care of me.” I hadn’t needed that for a long time. “You don’t know anything about me. So whatever you think you’re doing, whatever you’re trying to
fix
in me, you can fuck off.”

I took another big swallow of his drink, but I didn’t taste any of the sweetness of it.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Don’t be upset.”

I could feel him at my back, and my heart was beating up in my throat. How had this derailed so quickly? I’d thought we were heading in the right direction.

“I’m not upset.” I finished his drink in another big gulp, and then tried to wave down the bartender. Before he could see me, though, Hunt took my hand and pressed it flat against the bar. He stood close behind me, and when he breathed in, his bare chest brushed my back.

He said, “Kelsey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed. But don’t drink because you’re mad at me.”

I angled my head back at him, not bothering to turn around. “Apology accepted. And I’m drinking because I
want
to.”

“Just talk to me for a second.”

I’d had quite enough talking for the evening.

I raised my other hand to get the bartender’s attention, and Hunt spun me around, pressing me back into the bar.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“I just needed to talk to you for a second.”

“So you manhandle me like a caveman? Jesus!”

His lips curled into a devastating smile, and I swear if he made some crack about me calling him Jesus, I was going to smack that smile right off his face.

“I just wanted to apologize.”

“You already did that.”

“I know. But I really am sorry.”

“I don’t think you are. There’s this pattern that keeps cropping up, where you judge me when you have no right to do so. And when you’re not judging me, you’re prying into my life.”

“I’m not judging you. I promise. And the rest? That’s just the soldier in me . . . I’m too straightforward. If I want to know something, I just ask. If I want to do something, I do it.”

I rolled my eyes. That much was
abundantly
clear.

“Yeah, subtlety is definitely not your strong suit.”

His smile widened. “No. It definitely isn’t.”

“Well, then. If you’ll let me go, I think I’m going to go find Jenny and the others. Since I’m not
allowed
to order another drink and—”

I didn’t get to finish my rant as his hands cradled my jaw, and he kissed me.

I
froze for a few seconds, in denial that this was actually happening. His lips brushed mine softly once, then twice. I exhaled and his grip on my jaw tightened. Then the softness disappeared as his mouth covered mine. He kissed me carefully, thoroughly, like a man who knew that desire hid with the devil in the details. He angled my head, explored my mouth, and I gave up control to him.

The first taste of him made my toes curl, and when he tugged me forward, bare skin colliding with bare skin, my brain took a much-needed vacation.

He kissed me feverishly, fiercely, like I was a battle he wanted to win, and with all the desperation of a man with nothing to lose.

I gripped the back of his neck and returned his kiss, faster and harder, want quickly burning into need. A low groan spilled from his mouth into mine, and his hand left my face to smooth across the curve of my ribs to the middle of my back. Fire followed his touch, and when his fingers tangled in the ties of my swimsuit, my back arched, pressing us tighter together.

He nipped my bottom lip, and I dug my fingers into his shoulders. His lips coasted down my chin to my neck. The heat of his breath touched my skin first, followed by the tip of his tongue. He pressed me back against the bar, and I was glad for the support at my back because I suddenly felt dizzy.

I pulled in a breath and even though there was no space between us, I tried to move closer. He was hard to my soft; and for a moment it felt as if my brain detached from my body, like I could see the way his hands clasped me tight and his body curled over mine, but I couldn’t feel it. The world took on that hazy quality of a dream, and a whimper escaped my lips at the thought that this might not be real.

Then his teeth grazed the sensitive skin over my pulse point, and the world snapped back into focus.

It was
deliciously
real.

He hummed against my neck, the movement of his mouth like a foreign language on my skin—exotic and unpredictable, and sexy as hell.