The words nearly left my mouth, when my sex-hazed brain finally cleared and that small, sensible, sane part of me hit the brakes hard and fast.

Kiss her? Shit. Fucking shit. I couldn’t kiss this woman. Not when I was so worked up I’d fall on her like a starved man.

Faced with my deer-in-the-headlights silence, Parker frowned. “That is… I mean, I thought we were supposed to…” I didn’t need brighter lighting to know she was blushing.

“Hey.” I reached out to cup her cheek but stopped halfway, my hand hovering there, making everything worse. My fingers curled into a fist and I dropped it to my thigh. “You’re right. We should. We were. Supposed to, that is.”

Fuck. I was sweating again.

She sucked in a sharp breath, bracing herself, and her gaze turned steely. “Let’s just get it over with.”

It wasn’t the most flattering statement. Which was good. This was a job. A job. I repeated the fact as I moved closer, wrapping my arm around her shoulder to draw her up against me. Later, I’d be laughing my ass off at myself. I wasn’t this guy, freaking out over the prospect of a simple kiss. A fake one at that.

But Parker was right; being alone made it more.

Parker pressed a hand against my chest—to brace herself or hold me at bay, I didn’t know. My mind was fuddled, spinning around like I’d taken a solid hit to the chin.

God, she was tiny. Delicate. Fragile. The back of her head fit perfectly in the well of my palm.

For a second, I didn’t know what to do. One wrong move, and I’d crush her. I’d been forged to be a fighter. Brutal strength was my weapon. It didn’t feel like an advantage at the moment. I felt like a bumbling oaf.

Parker let out a soft breath as her gaze searched my face. She was clearly waiting for me to make the first move.

I can do this. I can do this. It’s nothing big. A kiss. Done it plenty of times. I can keep it neutral.

We moved at the same time, Parker lifting her face to mine as I ducked my head. Our lips met in the softest kiss I’d ever had. I felt the plush give of her lips, tasted a whisper of the white wine she’d drank. The sweetness of the way she kissed—so very shy but curious—punched right through my chest and squeezed.

I swear the floor tilted.

But she was pulling back, a furrow of concentration forming between her brows. “There,” she said.

There?

My lips throbbed. I stared at her mouth and wanted more. I wanted back there. Now.

Through my haze, I heard her talking in that efficient Little Miss Priss voice. “One more thing crossed off the list.”

I blinked, trying to focus. It was difficult; her mouth held all my attention. “Sorry?”

Soft pink lips pursed. “That was good enough, right?”

A laugh tumbled about in my chest. Good enough? Not by half. I shook myself out of the stupid lust fog that had invaded my brain. She stared up at me, looking quite pleased with herself. She really should be; she’d almost wrecked me with one brief kiss.

Damn it. I needed to get my head in the game. Play my part. I needed to feel her mouth again. Oh, how I needed.

“Nope.”

Her nose wrinkled as her eyes narrowed. “No? What do you mean no? We kissed, didn’t we?”

The way she kept asking questions, I had to smile. It was like she wanted me to argue. I was more than willing to do that.

“That wasn’t a kiss, sweetheart.”

Hot color licked over her cheeks. “It was so.”

“It was a little peck on the lips. I barely felt it.” I eyed her in mock suspicion. “Is that how you kiss guys you’re with? Because, if so—” I broke off, shaking my head sadly.

She growled. “Look here, you. The men I’ve kissed have been perfectly satisfied.”

I had no doubt about that. But I wasn’t about to let that show. “Put your money where your mouth is, Tinker Bell.”

Sparks lit her eyes—it might have been the firelight. Didn’t matter, she was hopping mad now. “You smug—” With another growl, she reached for me, hauling my head down.

Sweet Mary, she got down to business, sweeping my mouth open with the thrust of her greedy tongue, her lips nipping and caressing. She went at me like she was starved for it. White-hot heat roared through me like wildfire.

With a groan, I let go, kissing her like I wanted, canting my head to get closer, deeper. I licked into her sweet-tart mouth, totally lost to her. Our lips parted and met over and over, each time a little more desperate, a little more hungry.

Parker’s hands slid into my hair, grabbing at the strands hard enough to hurt. I wanted it harder. When she arched against me, pressing those firm tits into my chest, I swept her up and set her on my lap.