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him about her. “What for?”
    Megan’s lips twitched. “To ask you out.”
    Drake chuckled. So one of his old friend’s last feats had been matchmaking. Why am I not surprised? “Why didn’t you?” He went for point-blank. What the hell did he have to lose?
    She straightened her legs and got to her feet, rounded the coffee table and disappeared into the kitchen.
    Drake started to follow her, but decided to see where and how this played out instead.
    “I knew how worried he was about that tiger shark,” she said from the kitchen over the sounds of the refrigerator door opening, the cork popping on the bottle of wine, the refrigerator door closing once more. “I also know you. You wouldn’t have left that place tonight if—” She broke off as she walked back into the living room, sheer grief back in her eyes.
    “Then you were planning to call me tomorrow?” Drake stood and closed the distance between them. Indecision swirled in her eyes as she held his gaze and actually took a step backward. “Or had you thought you would wait until the next day?”
    Challenge sparked with the indecision and she angled her head, studying him. “Maybe I hadn’t planned on calling you at all.”
    “Why?” Being this close to her was destroying his common sense. He should stop breathing before he took in more of her strawberry scent laced with tantalizing female arousal. He should step back so that her hardened nipples weren’t brushing against his abdomen. The trouble came in telling his body to do what his mind knew it should.
    “Isn’t the guy supposed to make the first move?” she asked, her voice low and damnably sexy.
    Drake felt the dynamite explode. The excess of testosterone surged through his bloodstream. He couldn’t stop himself from touching her at that moment any more than he could stop his heart from beating.
    “I am.” He hooked an arm around her waist and yanked her hard against him. The wine in her glass sloshed over the rim onto his bicep, and she sucked in a quick breath of surprise. “Right now.” He dipped his head, stopping with his lips the smallest fraction from hers. “Are you going to tell me to stop, Megan?”
    He felt her tremble and saw a dart of fear shoot through her heated blue eyes, but neither of those sounded in her voice when she spoke.
    “I’m going to dare you.”
    A growl rumbled from low in Drake’s throat, and he didn’t stand a chance of swallowing it down. “Bad idea.”
    Did he mean those words as a warning to her or himself? He didn’t know and no longer fucking cared. He tightened his arm around her waist, reaching for the glass of wine she held with his other, and crushed his mouth to hers. He didn’t wait for her lips to part in invitation. He invaded, driving his tongue between them into the cavern of her mouth.
    Absently, he took the wine glass from her, set it on the nearby bookshelf, then captured her wrist in his hand. He backed her against the wall behind her, brought her wrist up, and pinned it to the wall. He caught her other arm when she attempted to wind it around his neck and pinned it, too. All the while, he continued his assault on her mouth.
    She tasted amazing, sweet from the remnants of the wine with a dash of a vixen sexuality he wouldn’t have guessed she possessed. Her tongue met his plunge for plunge, tangling and tasting, stroking his hunger for her into a frenzy.
    He pushed his leg between hers, lifted his knee, and pressed his thigh against her pussy. She was wet, hot, and the sounds she made into his mouth as she started gyrating on his thigh were so fucking erotic he damn near came in his shorts. Jesus, no woman had ever driven him this close to blowing his wad with a simple kiss and a hump against the wall.
    Could he make her come this way? He was almost tempted enough to try. Instead, he wrenched his mouth from hers and stared down at her. She was breathing hard, her lips swollen from the kiss, and looking up at him with so much fire