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thing?”
    “Why are you so dead set on driving me crazy this week?” he asked.
    “I’m . . . I’m not. I haven’t done anything to you. Everywhere I’ve been, work, my brother’s house, my house”—she made a sweeping gesture with her arm—“you are. That’s not me doing anything to you. That’s all you.”
    He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean.”
    “What do you mean then?”
    “You don’t know what’s been going on in my head, sugar.”
    “No. No, I don’t. And I probably want to keep it that way, so maybe you should . . .” He took a step toward her and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “You keep doing that,” she said, his thumb still touching her skin.
    “I know,” he said, “and when I’m not doing about it, I’m thinking about doing it. I don’t think I ever should have touched you.”
    Her heart started pounding hard. “What do you . . .”
    He raised his other hand and placed it on her cheek, shifting so that both palms were cradling her face, his dark eyes intent on hers. “This was also a bad idea,” he said, his voice rough.
    “What was?” she asked.
    “Well, touching you more. That little bit was bad idea enough. This . . . this is even worse.”
    Carly couldn’t remember the last time a man had looked at her like Lucas was looking at her now. Like he was starving and she was the answer to the hunger inside of him.
    The reason she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been looked at like that was because she never had been. And she was very aware of it in this moment. Aware that she was on the verge of something that was well outside her experience.
    The strangest thing was that right now, she wanted it. She knew, somewhere in the dim, hazy corners of her mind, that she might regret it later. No, that she would. But right now, for some reason, she didn’t care. Not even a little bit.
    Because all she could focus on was Lucas. His eyes, his lips. Lord, but he had beautiful lips for a man. It had been years since she’d let herself notice them. She had before, though.
    There had been a time when this moment, the possibility of it, had been her dearest fantasy. And it was something she didn’t even let herself remember now. There had been a time when she’d dared to want.
    His words from earlier rang in her ears.
    Live dangerously.
    Just a little. Just a taste. It wouldn’t be so wrong. Not any worse than one french fry.
    She leaned in, her lips brushing his. Her breath caught in her throat and held, electricity shooting through her veins, immobilizing her.
    But Lucas wasn’t immobile. Far from it. He dropped his hands from her face and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his hard, muscular body.
    She whimpered and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping the inside of her mouth. The wet friction stole every thought from her head, made it impossible for her to do anything but feel. She was lost, completely, in his touch. In a whole world of new desire and need.
    She’d thought she’d known what attraction was. Had thought she’d known, intellectually, how she would handle it. But she’d never felt anything like this. She hadn’t known. Not at all.
    She pressed her hands to his chest, curling her fingers around his shirt fabric, clinging to him as he kissed her, long and deep.
    “Kiss me back, Carly,” he growled against her lips.
    And she obeyed. She couldn’t do anything else. She wanted him, so much she was drowning in it. She tasted him, her tongue tracing the seam of his lips, delving inside his mouth.
    He was perfection. He tasted like temptation, like an invitation to a kind of wildness, a kind of freedom, she’d never even dared to imagine.
    She wanted to drown in it. In him. She’d never felt restricted by her life. Never felt like she was missing anything. But right now she felt like she was suffocating. Like she was being tied down, bound in the strictures of her life. Strictures she’d set out for