Close Up by Erin McCarthy Page A

that every entrée came with a recommended wine, which she could not legally drink.
    The second date, which he had essentially begged her for, had been her idea. A ballroom-dance lesson. And most likely a test, to see if he could step outside his box. He had felt like a monstrous ass trying to dance, but she had come alive in his arms, and at the end of the evening, after deciding there was something very sexy about both her and the tango, he had practiced one of the new dance moves outside her apartment. Deep in a dip, he had kissed her. It had changed everything. The world had come to a screeching halt in one long suspended moment of awakened passion and admiration.
    This moment, this kiss, was just as shattering, but without the wonder, the awe. It was a geyser of passion, a lava flow of emotion, a metal-melting resurgence of the heat between them. For the briefest of seconds when he first touched her lips with his, she hesitated. But then she sighed, a soft whisper of air from her to him, and he tightened his grip on the back of her head. She tasted like the wine she had sipped. She was just...sweet.
    “That’s not what I meant,” she whispered, lips a whisper away, close enough that he was able to nibble at the corner of her mouth.
    “No? What did you mean?” He was enjoying the power position of standing, but they were still in public, so he took advantage of her confusion to sit on the bench next to her. She scuttled backward, pushing at his waist again.
    “I mean that we’re not together, Sean... You shouldn’t kiss me. And I haven’t said yes to your suggestion.”
    Curious that she spoke those particular words while her index fingers crooked through his belt loops. Everything in her body language shouted yes, and even her words weren’t exactly much of a protest, but he did pull back to look at her, study her expression. “But you enjoyed the kiss, didn’t you? You would find two days at the lake with me satisfying. You know you would.”
    Then he leaned forward and dipped his tongue into her ear. “You always did like my tongue, if I remember correctly.”
    Let’s see her reaction to that.
    It was gratifying to feel her shiver. “Well. But definitely not for the words that come out of your mouth. You’re very pushy.”
    Sean laughed softly. “No one can be coaxed if the interest isn’t there to begin with.”
    “You shouldn’t kiss me here. We’re making a scene. We’re being that couple.”
    They had been that couple once. He wanted to be that couple again. Or at least see if they could be. “But other places are okay?”
    She pulled away. “I don’t know. I mean, no. Absolutely not. Do not kiss me again.”
    That’s what he thought. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He didn’t smile, even though he really wanted to. “Oh,” he said in feigned understanding. “Right. Sure, sweetheart, no problem.”
    She frowned. “You shouldn’t call me any terms of endearment, either. It’s going to confuse the issue.”
    “What issue? I don’t have any issues. Do you?”
    “No. Of course not. Fine. Call me whatever you want.”
    He knew her so well. It gave him an unfair advantage when he was trying to manipulate her. He was honest enough to admit that’s what he was doing. Kristine knew what he was doing, as well, and knew ultimately he would never push it past her comfort level. Which was why he never felt particularly guilty manipulating her. She was aware he was doing it, and she was allowing it. It gave her the ability to put up a stand and not compromise her position, but in the end they both got exactly what they wanted—and what they wanted was each other for this weekend.
    But Kristine was stubborn, and she was going to say no as long as she could, so there was no way he was leaving until he got that yes.
    Then he was going to call her sweetheart, and he was going to devote thirty-six hours to giving her as much pleasure as he possibly could. He was going to make her so