EXTRACT FOR
The Unconventional Romance Bundle
(Veronica Sloan)

From "Bad Boys Are So Good With Their Hands":



His mouth closed over mine and I didn't resist it. The kiss was smooth and warm. Like a nimble sea creature, his tongue tickled my lips, and then touched my own tongue. I moaned against him. But I had to push him away.



"Why do you always have to mess with me?" I said. I winced at the sound of my own voice breaking.



His face became stone serious. "I am not."



"You are!" I shouted. The words boomed in the hall. "You know I saw you. You're teasing me!"



His hand swung up, more graceful than a dancer's, and took my trembling hand. He kissed my fingertips - one, two, three. "Why are you really here, Mona?"



I was so frustrated I could cry. Yes, I wanted him. I'd wanted him for a stupid long time. But... "I have to go," I said.



"No you don't. You think you should go. But you wouldn't be here if you didn't already clear it in your schedule, if you didn't block out the time. Are your textbooks in your backpack? Were you going to the library after telling me off?"



Now I actually felt the tear running down my cheek.



"Did you memorize the words you were going to say to me?" he asked, his breath hot on my face. "Did you make a dozen excuses why you were doing a favor for Jess when you just wanted an excuse to see me?"



"Stop," I said, breathless.



"We never would have met at a party, Mona. It's messy how we did meet, but we met. And now you have to decide what you want."



I just stood there, the books in my backpack pressed between his wall and the muscles of my back. I stood there with tears streaming down my face and the heat of my frustration choking the life out of me. I didn't want to want him so much.



"Are you alright?" he asked.



I shook my head. I wiped at my nose desperately, shutting my eyes against the new gush of wet that threatened to pop out my eyeballs. I felt his arms around me, I felt his lips in my neck. It was like all the years of frustrated longing were being ripped from me, squeezed out by his thick arms around my quivering body. And then his mouth was on mine again, hot and yearning. I sobbed into his mouth, guilty for wanting, desperate for release. I'd seen him that night, and in that misbegotten glance he'd learned more about me than I would have ever told him.



"I don't know how," I whispered into his mouth. His thumbs skated across my cheeks as I dug my fingers into his neck. "My heart can't take it anymore. I can't be sexy."



"You don't have to be sexy," he whispered back. "Just accept that I want you."