Free Hard to Come By by Laura Kaye

pulse ticked up under his hands and against his chest, and saw it in the way her gaze flickered to his lips and away again. She wanted him, too.
    Sonofabitch. He leaned down, bringing their lips closer. Her breath caught and her fingers curled into his shirt between two of the buttons as if she was pulling him down, too. Everything else died away—the boat, the wind, the other people. Until it was just them and the closeness of his mouth to hers.
    “Derek,” she whispered.
    It was the pleading sound of his name on her lips that did it.
    Whatever had held him back in the seconds before she’d spoken disappeared in that instant. His lips brushed hers. Just a soft dragging of skin on skin that was somehow sexier for how tentative and incomplete it was, especially when she gasped and pressed herself closer, like she was hungry for it.
    Jesus. Marz certainly was.
    He captured her top lip between his and tugged, just the littlest bit. Continuing to tease her—and himself—he dragged his lips over her cheek, her eye, her nose, before he came back to her lips again.
    And then he stopped teasing. Marz kissed her, softly but thoroughly, not waiting long at all before he gave in to the urge to taste and swept his tongue into her mouth. She tasted of chocolate and woman and a sweetness he couldn’t get enough of. He’d already been hard before their lips ever met, but now he was like steel. Emiliewas right there with him, surrendering to the kiss but giving back everything he gave her.
    Damn, it was a good thing they were in public, because Marz didn’t want to stop.
    As if on cue, they pulled up to their mooring at City Dock, and the boat bumped against the pilings. They broke apart, breathing hard and looking at one another as if neither quite knew what had just happened, or what would happen next.
    Marz guided her off the boat and pulled her in against his side with an arm around her shoulders. They didn’t talk, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The tension roiling between them was purely sexual in nature, and Marz didn’t know where the hell to go with that. Not with the falsehoods between them, not when he wasn’t sure where she stood or what she was involved in, not when she didn’t know their meeting hadn’t been an accident.
    She shivered and tucked herself closer to him. Marz needed to fix that problem now. He pulled her into the first souvenir shop they came to. “What’s your favorite color?”
    “What?” she asked with a suspicious smile. “Why?”
    “Just tell me,” he said.
    “Okay, it’s turquoise. Now can I know why?” she asked, laughing.
    If he told her his plan, she would protest. So Marz kept quiet as he scanned the racks and zeroed in on a target—a turquoise blue hoodie that spelled out Annapolis in both letters and nautical flags. Perfect. He grabbed one that looked about the right size. “Come on,” he said, grasping her hand in his.
    “What are you doing?” she said, following him.
    “You’ll see,” he said. “Oh, wait.” He stopped over a table of T-shirts. If that wasn’t freaking Jeremy . . .“I have a friend who collects dirty and funny T-shirts. Whatd’ya think?” He held one up to her that had a picture of a black lab with a crab in its mouth.
    She smiled and read aloud: “Our dog has crabs. Dirty Dog Crab Shack. Cold beer and hot legs. Annapolis, 1649.”
    “Very cute,” she said, “but who’s the other one for?”
    He threw Jer’s T-shirt over his arm, grabbed her hand again, and pulled her in so he could whisper into her ear. “You, babe.” Then he kissed her cheek and led her to the register.
    “But . . . we’ll be back to the car in a few minutes,” she said as the teenager checked him out.
    “And by then you’ll be freezing. Besides, how can you deny me my God-given American right to spend money on souvenirs?” He handed the guy the money and accepted his change. Ripping the tag off her jacket, he held it open for her. “Madam,” he said with a