Breathing His Air by Debra Kayn Page A

coffee.”
    “Don’t bother.” Tori stepped barefooted up on the chair, wobbled and held her arms out to catch her balance. “I make damn good coffee — ”
    The bar customers shouted and held their fists in the air, shouting their agreement. She held the hem of her sundress and curtsied — well, she leaned over, and Taylor stopped her from falling off her perch. “But” — she put her finger to her lips, speaking to the room — “I can’t stand the taste of coffee. Doesn’t mean I don’t make damn fine coffee. I do. Ask anyone.”
    “Drink the tequila,” a man’s voice encouraged her.
    “Ex-cellent idea.” She laughed, swaying on the chair, and lifted the bottle to her lips. When her arm shook, threatening to spill the liquid, she lowered the drink and caught Rain’s steady, mean stare. “No, no, no.”
    She jumped down and marched over to Rain. He was doing the tight-mouth thing he was so good at, but his eyes … They were still warm and gave her hope she could distract him. “You can’t be mad yet. Tomorrow you can be mad.”
    “Babe … ” He reached for the tequila.
    She flung her arm out and shook her head. “Nope. You like me, Rain. I won’t let you kick me out of here. Ask anyone. I belong here. I do. I’ve got money.”
    “Damn me.” His mouth softened. “Let’s get you a table before you fall flat on your ass.”
    Pleased with standing up for herself, she followed him over to the side of the room. He removed the bottle from her hand and held the chair for her. She smiled at him. This nice Rain she could get used to, and she told him as much. Although he mumbled something about the booze talking.
    “I’m drunk?” She leaned toward him. “I can’t be.”
    “Whiskey and tequila, babe.”
    “No freaking way. I’d never drink whiskey or ruin a good tequila.” She laughed. “Why would I do that? I only allow myself two small shots” — she held up her fingers — “and I haven’t had any with lemon and salt yet. That’s the fun part. I don’t like straight tequila. I just like to lick, sip, and suck.”
    He growled. She patted his leg. “I’ll show you. We can do it together.”
    “Tori … ” His gaze went to the ceiling before landing back on her. He shook his head. “Askin’ for trouble.”
    She blew a raspberry. “Unlikely. I go out of my way to be good and not bring attention to myself.”
    Rain stood, and she laughed at how he tried not to enjoy himself with her. Something about him made her push back, just so she could see him try to fight the smile she brought him. She never let herself drink, especially alone. But he made her feel daring and wild. All that leather molded over his body, the long hair, and tattoos. She sighed in appreciation. Bad boy to the core.
    The kind of man she’d typically stay away from, because he was too manly, sexy, and tempting. She’d be too scared of making a huge mistake. A man who caused her body to hum by breathing would be the worst mistake she ever made.
    Love was for other people. Not her. It was safer that way.
    He returned with a plate of lemons and a mound of salt. She grinned and reached for a lemon. He grabbed her wrist. “No.”
    “But — ”
    “If you’re going to get wasted, you do it right. You make it worth the hell you’re going to go through tomorrow when you wake up,” he said.
    He turned her hand over and kept his eyes on her. He licked the sensitive flesh on the inside of her wrist before sprinkling salt over her skin. She melted. Not a little, but a humongous, world-tilting crumble.
    Without taking his gaze from her, he slowly licked the salt off her skin. The world-tilting crumble grew to an earthquake that had to have hit four on the Richter scale. She grabbed on to his arm to steady herself as she watched him lift the tequila, swig, and slowly suck the lemon with an expression she imagined he had at the moment of climax.
    The room disappeared, and she focused on Rain. She slowly blinked. The