“The way you reacted to me last night has me thinking about nothing but your mouth. You gave yourself up to that kiss, to me.” There was fire in his gray eyes, turning them to silver. “You woke up something in me, and I gave you something you needed. We’re going to see where this goes. As soon as you apologize.”

The last word finally drilled through the cloud of lust that had all her attention focused on the firm mouth that was just inches from hers. “Apologize? For what?”

He brought his hand to her face, fingers skimming along her jawline, setting her skin on fire. The way he tucked her hair behind her ear seemed gentle, but there was an underlying threat of…possession. She wanted to hate it. She wanted to smack him in his smug face. She wanted to grab him by the front of his damp T-shirt and kiss the hell out of him.

“For taking unnecessary risks with something that’s important to me.” His voice was low, but she could feel the heat of his breath on her face.

She thought he made the move, but somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Maggie realized that it was her fist closing around his shirt. Her dragging him down.

And then, as their mouths crashed into each other, it was him lifting her out of the chair. Picking her up like she was a bag of cement, wrapping her legs around his waist, and pressing her against the wall. Pinning her there with his hips. He smelled like sunshine and water, tasted like salt.

She knew she was supposed to be mad. Should be kicking him in the balls right about now, but she was having a hard time remembering why she’d want to do anything but let him kiss her like this.

His tongue was working some kind of magic in her mouth. She couldn’t quite catch her breath—it seemed as though he were stealing it.

One of them growled. She couldn’t tell who because she was too busy shoving her hands into his hair, knocking his hat off his head, and wishing away the layers of clothing that separated her core from the hard-on he was sporting.

Then suddenly she was flying or falling or floating. And his mouth was gone from hers. She felt the metal of the chair under her as he put her back with care.

She was panting and dazed. He looked…hungry.

“Scared the hell out of me, Mags,” he breathed. “Don’t let it happen again.”

She blinked up at him, trying to find her way out of the lust fugue.

He straightened and took a deliberate step back, shifting gears despite the impressive bulge in his shorts that she couldn’t quit staring at.