Page 39 of Furry Equations
“Is she now?” He moved closer, his presence filling the room. “And what exactly is our status, Dr. Grant?”
Her pulse quickened. “Well, according to you, we’re done pretending.”
“True.” His hands settled on her hips, drawing her closer. “Though I’m not sure what to call this yet.”
“This?” She traced the edge of his collar, feeling his sharp intake of breath.
“This undeniable pull.” He bent to brush his lips along her jaw. “This need to touch you.” His teeth grazed her ear. “This urge to claim you.”
Heat pooled low in her stomach. “That doesn’t sound very scientific.”
“Some things defy science.” He pulled back enough to meet her eyes. “Like how every cell in my body recognizes you as mine.”
The intensity in his gaze stole her breath. No one had ever looked at her like that—like she was precious and necessary and desired all at once. It should have terrified her, this immediate, overwhelming connection. Instead, it felt right. Like a hypothesis finally proven.
“Marcus—“
A knock at the door interrupted them. “If you two are done making out,” Jax called, “we’ve got a mission schedule to keep!”
Marcus growled, the sound sending delicious shivers down her spine. “I’m going to kill him.”
She smoothed his collar, letting her hands linger. “He’s right. We should go.”
“Fine.” But he caught her face in his hands, kissing her deeply enough to make her dizzy. “But we’re finishing this conversation later.”
The drive downtown passed in charged silence. Natalie’s entire body hummed with awareness of Marcus beside her. Every brush of his hand against hers felt deliberate, electric. Her mind kept replaying their kisses, the way his hands had roamed her body, the promises in his eyes.
“You’re thinking very loudly,” he murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on her knee.
“Hard not to.” She watched his hand move higher, her breath catching. “Especially when you’re doing that.”
His lips curved. “Doing what, sweetheart?”
“You know exactly what.” She caught his wandering hand. “We’re supposed to be focusing on the mission.”
“I am focused.” He brought her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm that made her toes curl. “On several things at once.”
“Multitasking?” She tried for teasing, but her voice came out breathy. “I’m impressed.”
“I’m very talented.” The words held such sinful promise that heat bloomed across her skin. Before she could respond, they arrived at the bar.
Marcus helped her out of the car, his hand settling possessively on her lower back. The touch, which would have annoyed her from anyone else, sent warmth spreading through her veins.
“Remember,” he murmured in her ear as they entered, “we’re just a new couple enjoying a night out. Though,” his lips brushed her skin, “I don’t think we’ll have to pretend much.”
She turned in his arms, rising on her toes to whisper, “Then stop talking and kiss me like you mean it.”
His eyes flashed gold before he captured her mouth in a searing kiss. This wasn’t like their earlier kisses—this was a statement, a claim. His hands splayed across her back, pulling her flush against him as his tongue swept into her mouth. She melted into him, forgetting about their audience, their mission, everything but the feel of him.
When they finally broke apart, she had to grip his shoulders to stay upright. “Wow.”
“Still think we’re pretending?” His voice was rough, possessive.
She shook her head, too dazed for words. In the corner of her eye, she caught movement—someone had definitely noticed them.
“Good show,” she managed. “Though I think you enjoyed that a little too much.”
“Sweetheart,” he guided her to the bar, keeping her close, “you have no idea how much I’m enjoying this.”