I had been kissed before. In fact, I liked kissing. I liked the press of mouths together and the way you could tell what kind of man you had on your hands by how skilled or terrible he was at such a simple act. I liked that kissing was intimate and involved without having to have all your cards on the table. But more than any of that, I liked that kissing spoke to exactly how into you the guy laying it on you was. If it was a peck on the cheek or a brush of lips, it meant there was no spark. If there was a closed lip press and no tease of the tongue, it meant he found you attractive and kissable but probably wasn’t going to put forth the effort to be worthy of you. If there was a little nibble of teeth and the swirl of a tongue, there was promise and potential.

Then there was whatever it was Zeb was doing to me. It felt like a conquering. A victory. A battle fought and won. It felt like he was trying to make it so that I would never be able to kiss anyone else in my life without having to compare it to this moment, to the feel of his hard mouth contrasting with the soft scrape of his beard against my skin. It was more than a kiss, it was a sensation overload, and it was making all the crystalline barriers I had in place crack.

His lips were firm and unyielding as they pressed into my own. His tongue danced across mine as his teeth scraped delicately across my lower lip. I felt it everywhere and all I could do was hold on and let him devour me while I whimpered and shook against him. I think I kissed him back. I really wanted to be kissing him back, but I was so lost in the sensation, so caught up in the fantasy becoming reality and it all being so much better than I was prepared for, I might just have stood there like an unresponsive dope.

When he finally pulled back after tasting what felt like every hidden spot I had in my mouth and across my tongue, he was breathing hard and his dark green eyes were glassy with desire and something deeper.

“Men like me are about action, Sayer. We’re much better at doing than saying.” He let go of my face and took a step back from me. There was no missing that the front of his faded jeans had gotten much tighter. God, I wanted to rub my hands over that impressive bulge. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you at the Bar sitting with Rowdy.”

I cleared my throat before trying to speak. My head was still spinning from his assault on my senses and my libido was trying to take over my common sense.

“Zeb . . .” The word squeaked out even though I tried for collected and cool. “I like you and I think you’re incredibly attractive, but you don’t know me and I don’t really think you would be interested in me if you did. Obviously there is an attraction here, but I can’t act on chemistry alone. I’m not built that way.” Even though I wished sometimes that I was. “I can still help you out with your situation with the child. We’ll figure everything out together, so don’t worry about things being weird. We can forget about this kiss and focus on what’s important.”

I would never forget that kiss . . . not ever.

He growled at me like an animal. He put his hands on his lean hips and narrowed his eyes, which had lightened back up to their normal mossy color.

“Sayer, do you want to go on a date with me?” I opened my mouth to tell him of course I did but that it wasn’t a good idea with all the other things he suddenly had going on in his life. I also didn’t want to bore him to death and risk having him find out just how unappealing I really was. Before I could speak he held up a hand and pointed his finger at me. “Don’t give me a bullshit lawyer answer or tell me what you think you should say. Just tell me yes or no if you want to go out with me?”

Put that way, real and on the spot, there was only one thing to say to him without lying through my teeth. “Yes, I want to go out with you, Zeb.” Even though I knew it would almost certainly end up a disaster.

He grinned at me and I felt my knees get weak.

“Okay, then I’ll make it happen. We’ll go on a date and you’ll see you can totally handle a guy like me . . . I think I’ll enjoy that part of it.” He took a step toward me and I was startled when he pulled me into a one-armed hug. I instinctively wrapped my arms around him and squeezed back as he told me, “Thank you. I knew you were the person that was going to save me.”

That was a lot of pressure and I had a moment of panic wondering what would happen if I let him down in court or on a date.

“We’ll figure it out. I’m really good at my job and the reason I got into family law in the first place was to help kids.” Because no one had been there to help me. “By the way, what’s his name?”

“Hyde. His name is Hyde.”

Of course it was. A mini Zeb wouldn’t have anything but a cool and unusual name.

“I’ll take care of you, both of you.” My voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt, but I was sure he heard it because his arm tightened around my shoulders.

I was already getting too close, melting a little bit into him. I was making promises I couldn’t keep. That was what happened when emotion started to bleed through the cracks.

CHAPTER 4

Zeb

I was out of my damn mind.

I was supposed to be begging her for help. I was supposed to be trying to do the right thing. I was supposed to be full of dread and embarrassment at the consequences of my past actions. I wasn’t supposed to feel the burn and sharp twist of desire that blazed through me every time I got near Sayer. That hadn’t been part of my agenda when I went to her for help. There simply wasn’t any stopping it.

Maybe it was the fact that it was the first time I had ever seen Sayer outside of her typical, severe-looking work wear. If there was such a thing as being tragically flawless and ferociously immaculate, then those were conditions that she definitely suffered from. She was always so tailored and put together. Sometimes she didn’t seem real, more like a life-size doll without a hair out of place and a face full of perfectly subdued makeup still intact after a full day’s worth of work. She was intimidating not only in her carefully crafted beauty but also in her consummate perfection.

Seeing her standing there with messy hair and dressed in rumpled clothes that she obviously slept in had pulled my head from all the cloudy thoughts about the possibility of impending fatherhood and immediately launched it into all kinds of filthy and sexy thoughts that involved putting her in even more disarray with my mouth and hands. God, I wanted to touch her, to taste her. I wanted to know if she felt as cool as she looked and just what it would take to get her to melt, to thaw her out and turn her into nothing more than liquid and want in my hands.