Free Shameless by Rebecca J. Clark Page B

She didn’t like him enough to kiss him like that. She wouldn’t open her mouth… well, maybe just for a second. She was dying to know if the rest of his kiss was as good as the first part. She was certain it wouldn’t be. The only reason she felt all hot and heavy was because she hadn’t been kissed in a while. It had nothing to do with him. His tongue swept inside her mouth and his hand slid down to the small of her back to urge their bodies closer. Is this what weak in the knees feels like ?
    Because of her predisposition against men like John, she hadn’t expected his touch to make her feel anything other than revulsion. She certainly hadn’t expected to enjoy it and be turned on by it. She was furious with him for being so presumptuous and furious with herself for letting things progress to this point. She should push him away right now and give him a piece of her mind. And she would do exactly that, just as soon as she kissed him a moment longer. Just a few more moments and then she’d stop. Because the last thing she needed was to get involved with the donor father—
    That jolted her back to reality. Double dammit , what was she thinking? Her eyes flew open and she shoved him away. Hard.
    John’s eyes came open slowly. “What’s wrong?”
    She moved several steps away from him. A safe distance. “Let’s not go there.”
    “Let’s not—?” He composed himself, shoving fingers through his hair and giving it a sexy, tousled look. “If I moved too fast,” he finally said, his voice husky, “I apologize. I guess with the champagne, the dancing, that dress—” His eyebrows rose as his gaze raked over her.
    She bristled. “What? You mean because I’m wearing a sexy dress, I must be easy? Is that it?”
    “Oh, come off it, Samantha. You can’t wear a dress like that and not expect a guy to get ideas.”
    Sam forced herself to take some calming breaths because she couldn’t quite shake the toe-curling sensation of that doggone kiss. Feeling out of control in any way always sparked her anger. It never failed to take her back twenty years, to the most terrifying night of her life.
    She cleared her throat. “I was simply trying to make the point the way a woman dresses has nothing to do with her moral character.”
    He crossed his arms over his broad chest and studied her from narrowed eyes. “Okay. So, why did you break the kiss?”
    She crossed her arms, too. “Because I don’t like you in that way.”
    He was silent a moment, then he laughed. “You don’t like me in that way? Is that why you’ve been flirting with me all evening and practically threw yourself at me on the dance floor?”
    “I haven’t been flirting with me, I mean you , all evening,” she huffed, trying to look indignant and hating he was able to fluster her. “And I don’t ‘throw’ myself at anyone.”
    “Uh huh. And that dress…” he waved his hand at her, taking in the shimmery body hugger in a long glance, “you wouldn’t call that flirtatious?”
    She lifted her hands in the air. “See, there you go again. Figuring the way a woman dresses—”
    “You’re a tease,” he said, cutting her off.
    “I am not.” Okay, so she could be a tease on occasion, but only when she wanted something from a man. She certainly couldn’t tell John what she wanted from him. Not yet, anyway.
    She made a sound of disgust through her teeth. She wasn’t used to verbally sparring with a man who could give it right back to her. She didn’t like it.
    She yanked her coat from the coat rack, shoved in her arms and buttoned it. She looked up to find John trying to hide his amusement, his blue eyes twinkling. “I’m glad you think this is so funny, Everest. But I’d like you to take me back to my car now.” When he made no move to obey, she said, “Fine, I’ll call a cab.” She dug into her purse for her phone.
    His chuckle brought her gaze back to him. “No, no. I’ll take you.”
    They were silent on the drive into