Catching Red by Tara Quan Page B

she looked adorable scrutinizing his boots, he took his time to answer. “Just grab and yank. You’ll probably need to stand up to get a good grip.”
    She followed his direction, but the effort yielded no results. Her peeved expression made him smile. He had been doing a lot of that since he’d met her.
    She squinted at his feet. “I’m sorry to say this, but they’re stuck.”
    “Come here.” He placed her left palm on the back of his heel. “Put your other hand on my ankle. Lock your elbows. Then lean back. It’ll come right off.”
    After a lot of huffing and puffing, she succeeded. But the momentum sent her bottom crashing to the ground. “Is there some reason you couldn’t find more malleable footwear?”
    “I like cowboy boots. They’re better at keeping out moisture.” When he pulled off the other side with ease, her expression soured. “You’ll get the hang of it after a few more tries.”
    She scrambled to her feet and placed her hands on her hips. “It’s not exactly a useful skill.”
    He tossed his socks and shoe over to join her pile of footwear. “That depends on who you ask. Now put the boot away and stop stalling.”
    After a moment’s pause, she complied. Though her tone was jocular, her eyes grew shadowed. “When I run, you won’t be able to catch me. It’ll take you too long to put those shoes on.”
    He placed his hands on either side of her waist. “I guess we’ll see. You were about to say something before the brain-eater showed up. What was it?”
    She played with a stray thread on the shoulder seam of his T-shirt. “I think you already know.”
    Amused by her sudden shyness, he pulled her closer. “Tell me anyway.”
    “Would you…” She took a deep breath. “Would you kiss me?”
    He wanted nothing more than to possess her mouth, tear off her clothes, and take what he needed. But his instinct to protect her overruled desire. He wanted her to decide for herself how far she was willing to go. “It’ll be safer if you made all the moves.”
    Creases formed between her brows. “But I don’t know what I’m doing.”
    A chuckle caught in his throat. “God help me when you do. Why don’t you start by coming on top of me?”
    Her frown deepened, but she placed her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself onto his lap. “My head is lower than yours again.” She sounded annoyed by the physical reality. “And my feet only touch the floor if I point my toes. Is this meant to be comfortable?”
    “Does this help?” He held her in place and scooted forward. The movement positioned her closer to his body. While her feet gained more leverage and her head lifted by an inch, the junction between her legs now pressed up against his arousal. His half-erect shaft swelled. Doing nothing was going to be harder than he thought.
    He fought back a groan when she wiggled in place. “I don’t understand the point of this exercise.” Though she appeared satisfied by the improved balance, her voice remained tinged with anxiety.
    He took her hand and pressed it between their bodies. “Do you feel that?”
    Her eyes grew wide as she ran her fingers over his straining zipper. “You must be uncomfortable.”
    He had a feeling it was about to get worse. “If you’re on the right track, I’ll get even harder.” When she nudged the base of her palm against his groin, the appendage reacted to prove his point. A drop of sweat rolled down his back. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and focused on breathing.
    To his relief, she pulled her hand off his erection. “Wouldn’t it make more sense if you took the lead?” She sounded curious. “You’ve been through…all the steps. I haven’t.”
    For no reason he could think of, his arousal ratcheted up a few notches. He scrutinized her expression. “Do you at least know what’s about to happen?”
    He felt her faint shiver against his palms. “I know how this ends, yes. I need your help with the intermediary steps.”
    If he