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“You’re playing with the wrong man. I’m neither virtuous nor honorable. Never have been. I played the gentleman once, but don’t push your luck. I don’t like to go too many days without.”
She smiled, the tilt of her lips faint and uncertain. “If you were virtuous, do you really think I would have asked?”
For a blind, blazing second, Campbell entertained the idea of accepting her insulting proposition. It was too easy—far too easy—to imagine her lean, long-limbed body beneath his, her lips parting in a cry of pleasure as he sank deeper than he’d ever allowed himself, those throaty moans circling his ear, wrapping around him like a spell.
Sassy and defensive, with a sharp thread of intelligence stitching together her gaze, she wasn’t typical—or his type.
Senseless, but he knew the combination would make for a mind-blowing lover.
He took a step back, never having been attracted to unsophisticated women, no matter how beautiful they were. And this one was gorgeous without even trying. Considering her gall, maybe he was foolish to think she was innocent, but something…goddamnit, something, tugged at his last remaining moral chord.
Vulnerability shimmered off her like sunlight on the surface of a lake. She would have been unhappy, he imagined, to know it.
While he stood there, reasoning, her hands fisted in his sweatshirt as she backed him into the shed's wooden wall. It rocked with a harsh creak, scraping his calf and knocking his cap to the ground. His Hellcat was stronger than she looked.
And determined.
Up on her toes, her lips pressed to his before he could take a breath—or close his eyes to enjoy it.
Campbell muttered a weak denial against her mouth, but she took advantage of it, slipping inside.
The kiss was hesitant and not quite...right. As though neither of them knew what to expect.
But it didn’t matter.
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