I blinked at him. “I have no idea what you just said.”

“Why do you think I said it?”

“Your attitude is beginning to piss me off.” I sniffed. “Did you have sex at fifteen?”

“Me?” He snorted. “No. I’m a virgin now.”

“Okay, even the English can smell your bullshit, Isaac. Right from their little dale caves or whatever you heathens live in.”

His eyes danced with laughter. “No, I wasn’t having sex at fifteen. I was seventeen when I lost my virginity.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Why not?”

“Nobody who talks dirty the way you do waited until after the legal age to have sex.”

“Do you have personal experience with that?” He raised his eyebrows and took a slow mouthful of beer.

“A lady never reveals her secrets.” I mimicked his movement with my wine. “Besides, it’s not like my first time was anything to write home about. The loser lasted two minutes, and even though we dated for a year…” I shuddered. “There are pornstars out there right now filming their orgies who are having more real orgasms than I did with him.”

“We can change that if you want.”

“What? The orgasms I never had with my first boyfriend? No thanks. I’m fine providing my own.” I clapped my hand over my mouth.

Holy shit. What was in this wine?

Isaac’s eyebrows rose, and his lips twitched at the corners. “Well, I know for a fact that’s something I can help you with.”

There was a huge lump in my throat. I had to get out of this situation. Abort mission, Captain.

“You do?”

That was not what I meant to say. Stupid mouth. Stupid brain. Stupid Hannah.

Amusement flashed across his face. “Do I have to refer to the texts again?”

“You just did.”

He put his beer bottle on the counter with a clunk and walked around it, closing the distance between us. “Then allow me to refer to them a little more.”

I took a step back. My butt bumped into the counter, and my heart thumped really hard when the realization that I had nowhere to go washed over me. It was a delicious, consuming mixture of apprehension and excitement, because I knew that if he kissed me like he had last night, there was no way I would tell him to stop.

The ankle-biting kitten was the only reason I’d stopped last night.

Apparently, my willpower was that of a piece of paper on a fire.

Poof. Gone. Buh-bye.

Isaac laid his hands either side of me on the counter, trapping me in place. My heart spiked even further before quickly settling into a steady yet rapid rhythm that matched the bolt of desire that went through me.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

He dipped his head. “Pushing my luck.”

He captured my lips with his, kissing me firmly. It was so perfect, teasing yet testing, as if he really were pushing his luck.

Gently, I put my hands at his waist, telling him to carry on.