He laughed, slow and deep. “You’re really gonna pretend it’s not there? The chemistry between us?”

“We don’t have chemistry.”

And yep, she was a filthy liar. She and Seth Masterson had so much chemistry they could open their own laboratory. Or teach a college science seminar. Or—

He cut into her thoughts once more. “I’ve been very patient up until now. Pretending not to notice the way your ni**les get hard whenever I’m around. Acting like it’s the temperature that brings that red flush to your cheeks when we both know it’s pure sexual arousal setting your skin on fire. And don’t get me started on the way you look at me.” His voice grew even raspier. “Those big hazel eyes of yours eat me up like I’m a big, juicy steak, baby.”

Nipples hardening? Check.

Cheeks scorching? Check.

Eating Seth Masterson up with her eyes? Well, she couldn’t tear her gaze from the sensual curve of his mouth or the strong line of his jaw, so yeah, might as well check that off too.

Even though Seth must have noticed all three responses, Miranda decided to keep playing dumb. It was the only way to maintain some semblance of control over a conversation that had swiftly and unexpectedly gotten out of hand.

“Big, juicy steak?” she echoed dryly. “Someone thinks highly of himself.”

He just laughed. “We both know you’re attracted to me.”

“Oh, we both know that, do we?”

“And I’m attracted to you,” he said with a shrug. “But unlike you, I’m not gonna bat my eyelashes like a Disney princess and act like I don’t want to get you naked.”

She swallowed again. Harder this time. Her mouth was so dry she felt like she was swallowing sand, but she didn’t dare reach for her water bottle because she knew Seth would comment and attribute her sudden thirst to the effect he had on her.

“I have to get back to work.” Wiggling out of his grasp, she quickly stumbled to her feet.

But Seth was equally quick. He stood up and caught her around the waist with one muscular arm. He didn’t yank her into him, just rested one hand on the small of her back and used the other to tip her chin up so she had no choice but to look at him.

“Say the word, Miranda.”

Her heart was beating so fast she could barely hear her own voice over the frantic hammering. “What word?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” she stammered.

He gave that mocking chuckle of his. “That’s the word—yes. And I want you to say it. I want you to give me the green light so I can finally put my hands all over you the way I’ve been fantasizing about for months now.”

“Seth…” It was meant to be a warning, but his name slipped out on a breathy whisper, sounding very much like an invitation.

“Come on, baby, I’ve been such a good boy.” Those gray eyes gleamed with sex and danger. “Put us both out of our misery.”

She stared into those stormy-silver depths, feeling her resolve crumbling. Losing herself in his seductive spell. God, it had been so long since she’d had sex. So long.

Seth aimlessly stroked her lower back. “Miranda…” He trailed off, moistening his bottom lip with the sexy drag of his tongue, and then he leaned in close so that his lips hovered over her ear. “I want to f**k you.”

A shiver ran through her. Oh crap. Oh no, no, no. She was not allowed to get turned on.

Too late.

Okay, she was beyond turned on. The pressure between her legs was unbearable, her ni**les so hard they could cut glass, her breathing completely off-kilter.

Enough. She couldn’t keep letting herself respond to this man. Seth was a bad boy to the core. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. He had no sense of decency, no filter that monitored the sarcastic or overtly sexual remarks that came out of his mouth. He wore all black and smoked cigarettes and never shaved. In other words—he was trouble.

And sure, that air of danger he radiated would have turned her on when she was a teenager, but guess what, it was the last thing she wanted nowadays. She’d already thrown her life away for one dangerous bad boy—and she’d gotten knocked up at eighteen as a reward.

The memory of Trent was all it took to banish her rising desire.

Squaring her shoulders, she pushed his hand off her waist and took a step backward. “What you want makes no difference,” she said quietly. “I won’t get involved with you, Seth.”

Resignation fluttered across his face. “What’s your reason this time?”

She set her jaw defiantly. “Same one it always is. I’m a mom.”

When he blanched slightly at the M-word, she let out a wry laugh. Oh, for Pete’s sake, why hadn’t she just led with that instead of letting this conversation drag on for far longer than necessary?

In the four months she’d known Seth, he hadn’t shown the slightest interest in her kids, and if the subject did happen to come up, he usually donned a blank look and acted indifferent to everything she said. She didn’t know why, but for Seth, children seemed to be on par with root canals and canine fashion shows, both of which he’d expressed extreme dislike for.

“I don’t have time to fool around with you,” she went on. “Or anyone, for that matter. Between raising two six-year-olds, working five days a week at the studio and part-time here at the bar, I barely have time to read the paper, let alone have sex.”

To her aggravation, Seth grinned. “That just proves how much you need me.”