Read Online So Irresistible by Lisa Plumley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lisa Plumley
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him another sexy up-and-down look. If Shane hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn he looked his best in roughed-up jeans and a T-shirt. Gabby looked as though she wanted to lick him all over.
He wanted to be licked. All over. Repeatedly. Starting now. Eventually and much too soon, her attention meandered back to his face. By then, Shane’s scruffy jeans felt a size too small. There was something liberating about being with Gabby. Maybe it was because nothing real could come of their meeting. Maybe it was because Shane liked a woman, like her, who knew what she wanted. Either way, he wanted her . Fake name or not.
He didn’t want to “fix” this, either. Given the reasons he’d come out tonight, Shane figured that only a genuine response would be enough to drive back his demons.
He could have charmed and persuaded her, cajoled and manipulated her. He could have had her at his place already.
He hadn’t earned his reputation for nothing, after all.
Instead, insisting on honesty even when he didn’t have to, Shane touched her arm. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“I don’t know yet.” A teasing sidelong look. “Do you want to discuss your tragic misspent youth some more?”
“Umm . . . yes?” He laughed. “If that’s what it’ll take. Sure.”
“It’s not,” Gabby reassured him. “I just wanted you to be willing. I’m practicing Serial Killer Defense 101.”
“I’m not a serial killer,” Shane assured her with perfect equability. “I’m a professional business hit man.”
It was 100 percent brutally honest. But Gabby didn’t believe him. “Wow. That sounds like an incredibly macho way of describing . . . accounting, or whatever.” She waved. “I don’t care what you do . I care who you are . Also, I care that you’re not in some FBI database. So, smile for my friend Pinkie.”
Shane looked up. A skinny blonde wearing a pink bandanna around her head snapped his photo with her cell phone. For some reason, the burly dude next to her scowled. The old guy beside him looked worried. And the middle-aged man nearby peered at his elbow, muttered to himself, then punched up his own cell phone.
“Your compatriots?” Shane asked, nodding toward them.
“Something like that.” Puzzlingly, Gabby gave them a wistful look. She sent a text, then turned to him. “The important thing is, you’ve been IDed. If I don’t show up for work tomorrow, they’ll know where to start looking for me.”
“You’re not very trusting.”
“I’m not very gullible. There’s a difference.”
“No . . .” Steadily, Shane studied her. “I don’t just mean about this, with me. I mean, you’re not very trusting. With anyone.”
Gabby gazed at him. Again, she seemed amused. Also a little shaken. “Hmm. Perceptive and studly. Even if you were wrong—”
“But I’m not wrong,” Shane felt compelled to point out.
“—I think I’d still want to kiss you right now.”
Then Gabby leaned forward, took his jaw in her hand, and lowered her mouth to his.
Giddily, Gabriella became aware of a thousand things at once. The feel of Shane’s hard, darkly stubbled jaw beneath her palm. The masculine warmth and soapy smell of his skin. The hardness of his big body and the cacophony of the brewpub and the feel of the bass music pounding up through the floor, up through the corner booth, all the way up into her bones.
Kissing Shane rocked her world in the hottest possible way, and she wanted more of it. She wanted more of him . Right now.
It seemed that she’d scarcely had that thought before she made it happen. Gabriella kissed him again. She felt exhilarated and powerful and full of onrushing possibilities—and that was before Shane cradled her cheek in his hand, pulled her even closer in their leathery booth, and made her forget all those sensations she’d just registered. Instead, all that existed was Shane’s mouth, soft and wide and wet. All that meant anything were his hands, roving
He wanted to be licked. All over. Repeatedly. Starting now. Eventually and much too soon, her attention meandered back to his face. By then, Shane’s scruffy jeans felt a size too small. There was something liberating about being with Gabby. Maybe it was because nothing real could come of their meeting. Maybe it was because Shane liked a woman, like her, who knew what she wanted. Either way, he wanted her . Fake name or not.
He didn’t want to “fix” this, either. Given the reasons he’d come out tonight, Shane figured that only a genuine response would be enough to drive back his demons.
He could have charmed and persuaded her, cajoled and manipulated her. He could have had her at his place already.
He hadn’t earned his reputation for nothing, after all.
Instead, insisting on honesty even when he didn’t have to, Shane touched her arm. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“I don’t know yet.” A teasing sidelong look. “Do you want to discuss your tragic misspent youth some more?”
“Umm . . . yes?” He laughed. “If that’s what it’ll take. Sure.”
“It’s not,” Gabby reassured him. “I just wanted you to be willing. I’m practicing Serial Killer Defense 101.”
“I’m not a serial killer,” Shane assured her with perfect equability. “I’m a professional business hit man.”
It was 100 percent brutally honest. But Gabby didn’t believe him. “Wow. That sounds like an incredibly macho way of describing . . . accounting, or whatever.” She waved. “I don’t care what you do . I care who you are . Also, I care that you’re not in some FBI database. So, smile for my friend Pinkie.”
Shane looked up. A skinny blonde wearing a pink bandanna around her head snapped his photo with her cell phone. For some reason, the burly dude next to her scowled. The old guy beside him looked worried. And the middle-aged man nearby peered at his elbow, muttered to himself, then punched up his own cell phone.
“Your compatriots?” Shane asked, nodding toward them.
“Something like that.” Puzzlingly, Gabby gave them a wistful look. She sent a text, then turned to him. “The important thing is, you’ve been IDed. If I don’t show up for work tomorrow, they’ll know where to start looking for me.”
“You’re not very trusting.”
“I’m not very gullible. There’s a difference.”
“No . . .” Steadily, Shane studied her. “I don’t just mean about this, with me. I mean, you’re not very trusting. With anyone.”
Gabby gazed at him. Again, she seemed amused. Also a little shaken. “Hmm. Perceptive and studly. Even if you were wrong—”
“But I’m not wrong,” Shane felt compelled to point out.
“—I think I’d still want to kiss you right now.”
Then Gabby leaned forward, took his jaw in her hand, and lowered her mouth to his.
Giddily, Gabriella became aware of a thousand things at once. The feel of Shane’s hard, darkly stubbled jaw beneath her palm. The masculine warmth and soapy smell of his skin. The hardness of his big body and the cacophony of the brewpub and the feel of the bass music pounding up through the floor, up through the corner booth, all the way up into her bones.
Kissing Shane rocked her world in the hottest possible way, and she wanted more of it. She wanted more of him . Right now.
It seemed that she’d scarcely had that thought before she made it happen. Gabriella kissed him again. She felt exhilarated and powerful and full of onrushing possibilities—and that was before Shane cradled her cheek in his hand, pulled her even closer in their leathery booth, and made her forget all those sensations she’d just registered. Instead, all that existed was Shane’s mouth, soft and wide and wet. All that meant anything were his hands, roving
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