Malibu Betrayals by M.K. Meredith

breathless and overwhelmed. She tensed as he closed the distance, her fingers rising a bit. To pull him in or keep him at arm’s length, she wasn’t sure, and giggled at her silliness.
    “Ms. Dekker.” He spoke in a formal tone as if he was all about business—and not the horizontal kind.
    “Yes, Mr. Cutler?”
    With only a couple people trailing behind, he lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “I like how that sounds.”
    Heat flushed her neck and face. Pull yourself together, Dekker . She glanced over his shoulder as the last crew member slipped through the door.
    “Ready? You can follow me in your car.”
    Her eyes opened wide. His words sounded so casual but were laced with so much more. She wanted him more than she’d wanted anything or anyone in a long time. Pure, unadulterated, physical, base-need wanting. Hell yeah, she was ready to go. “Let’s go then.”
    Gage stepped toward her, a possessive look in his eye. “Really?”
    She almost laughed at the hopeful disbelief in his tone, but nodded instead. If her goal was to keep this light and casual, to get him out of her system, the best thing to do was to treat it that way. If they waited for the perfect time, it put too much importance on the sex.
    “This is going to be the longest damn ride of my life.”
    Sam grinned as she watched Gage take off to his car. A few minutes later, she pulled out of the driveway. She changed her mind no less than fifty times on the way, questioning how she of all people was going home with Gage Cutler.
    Her heart hammering in her chest, she followed him through three levels of the tightest security she’d ever seen. She could have used this set-up when she’d been married to Ethan.
    Finally, they pulled into his oversized garage and the door lowered, closing them into an oasis of privacy.
    He was at her door, opening it and grabbing her hand before she had turned her engine off. Laughing, she put a hand to her stomach and followed him through the garage. He fumbled with his keys, and then swore, pushing Sam against the door and kissing her.
    She loved his taste and the feel of his hard body against hers. Sam played with the hem of his shirt. Pulling in a breath, she slid her fingertips under the hem, refusing to be a passive bystander. He sucked in his stomach at her touch. “Wait, wait, let me get this.”
    Sam’s stomach twisted in knots. She stilled, watching him slip the key into the lock. His hand shook, and he wiped it on his jeans with a chuckle.
    What if she sucked? She almost laughed but couldn’t get anything past the lump in her throat. Her best defense had always been “fake it till you make it,” and she needed to tap into that right now.
    He wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her up against him. She squealed against his mouth, and they pushed through the door, practically falling through the entrance.
    Once inside, he locked the door, tossed his keys to his foyer table, and turned toward her. She sobered a bit, slowly backing away down the hall. He followed and her heart took up a heavy rhythm. The gleam in his gaze stopped her, held her immobile. She stood in the middle of his living room. She wanted him to catch her, to take her. Make her forget her fears, her worries—release the hold he seemed to have on her.
    Light and easy and fun.
    In two strides, Gage had her in his arms. Lifting her, he encouraged her legs to wrap around his waist. He dragged his lips against hers, catching her lower lip between his teeth with subtle pressure, then sliding his tongue in to taste her, his hands in her hair, holding her head hostage. The heat of his torso radiated through her slacks and intensified the fever building between her legs.
    He walked through the door into his bedroom. Without letting her go, he flicked on his fireplace and, stepping over to the sliding glass doors, pushed a button that shut the enclosed window blinds with an almost imperceptible whisk. Then with a growl, he stalked back to