holding on by a thread here. 'Go home.'
Instead he shut the door behind him and looked at her from those dark, sexy eyes that never failed to melt her into a pool of longing.
Damn, it was ridiculous how she responded to him. Ridiculous, and just a little humiliating. 'I have nothing to say to you.'
'Not even about your crush on me?'
'Ha ha.' She stalked over to her table and put her hands flat on the wood, gulping in air. Hope was okay. She hadn't run off to do anything stupid.
And the man behind her… Well, things weren't so black-and-white with him. The way he looked standing there on the court with Hope: big, bad, tough, and so unexpectedly sweet she almost hadn't been able to breathe when she'd looked into his eyes.
Damn it, what was it about him? He made her think, laugh, yearn…
'Is it true?' he asked.
His hands came up, gripped the table at either side of her hips, putting them extremely close and in an unexpectedly intimate position. 'Mia,' he said very softly, tipping his head so that his breath brushed her jaw, her ear, making her feel touched by him, when in truth not an inch of him touched her at all.
'I read between the lines when you were talking about your sister. She was pretty rough on you, wasn't she?'
Mia lifted a shoulder. 'All that's in the past now.'
'Yeah. But I'm sorry I judged you for not being closer to your family. I had no right,' he said quietly. 'I think you were great tonight. I think you reached her.' He sprawled his hands wide so that his thumbs just lightly skimmed over her hips. He was tall, hard with muscle from all his days playing basketball, and she felt trapped by him, petite and extremely feminine. Beneath the flimsy robe, her body reacted predictably.
'Is what true?' She had to clear her rough throat. 'That I have a crush on you? Don't be ridiculous.'
Leaning in, he let his mouth just barely brush her throat.
The hollow at the base of her neck.
And then her collarbone.
Oh, God. She had to lock her knees. She had no idea what to do with her hands, so they helped themselves to his shirt, fisting comfortably over his pecs, which were warm and solid. Real.
At her touch, he let out a low groan and stepped back, letting out a sound of disbelief. 'How the hell did I end up here again?'
'I-' She was about to say it was because their bodies seemed to have a thing for each other, but she looked into his eyes-eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea, eyes that weren't holding anything back- and she lost the glib words. Instead she sank her hands into his hair and dragged his mouth to hers.
Chapter 14
Mia sank into the kiss, thrilling to the way he touched her. 'God,' he murmured, taking another hot little love bite out of her throat. 'Why couldn't you be wearing a suit of armor?'
Her head fell back. The man could take her from zero to sixty with a single touch. For someone so laid-back and casual, he had a real edgy thing going when he concentrated, and when it came to her, he usually concentrated extremely well. His hair was tousled, and a lock of it fell over his knotted brow; his eyes were dark and sleepy and filled with an intense heat.
It was silly how strongly he affected her, but just looking at him, she felt her pulse skip. Her amusement at herself for that vanished in a flash when his fingers pulled open her robe. His low, throaty groan was heady stuff. He lifted her up onto the table, put his hands on her thighs, and pushed them open. 'Look at you,' he murmured. 'You're already wet for me.' With a light touch that sent her pulse skittering, he stroked her, outlined her, then slowly pushed two fingers into her.
His grip on her was presumptuous, familiar, and just a little rough, and she should have kicked his ass for it. Instead, she fought to see past the sexual haze and tried to rip his clothes off. She shoved up his shirt and had his jeans half undone when he shook his head as if trying to clear it and stepped free. 'Mia. We have to stop.'
'Damn it, I hate that word.'
He let out a low, groaning laugh and touched his forehead to hers, squeezing her hips gently. 'Hope. Remember Hope. I know you gave her a half hour, but she could come in the door anytime.'
'Oh, God.' She blinked, and wanted to cry. 'There are teenagers around. Does that mean we can't have sex? I really need to have sex, Kevin. Right now.'
He glanced over her shoulder at her pantry closet, and she wasn't so far gone that she couldn't laugh breathlessly. 'Not there. Come on.' She hopped off the table, grabbed his hand, and tugged him out of the kitchen, down the hall past the living room and up the stairs, her robe billowing behind her. Just outside her bedroom door he pulled her around, backing her to the wall, holding her there while he dropped to his knees.
'What about the kid?'
'We'll hear her.' Then he opened her robe and her thighs and glided his thumb deliberately over her.
She gasped. Shivered. By the time he leaned in and replaced his thumb with his tongue, she was already halfway gone. Gripping his head, she let him take her the rest of the way to an explosive climax. When she stopped shuddering, he sat back on his heels and looked up at her from heavy-lidded eyes.
'Come up here,' she managed.
He straightened to his full height, and she hopped up and wrapped her legs around his hips, making him groan, and turned, trapping her between his body and the wall. One of her Prada mules fell to the floor with a thud.
He cupped her face and looked deep into her eyes as he slowly pushed his hips into hers, making it abundantly clear that he was hard as the wall at her back, and he said, 'We really need to talk, about why, if I'm so awful in bed, you keep wanting me so bad.'
She closed her eyes, her own little cheap escape, and arched against his erection, making him hiss again as he staggered with her into her bedroom. One moment she was holding on to his tense shoulders, and the next she was flying through the air, then bouncing on her bed.
He locked the door, then came to the mattress, tucking her beneath him, holding her down as he crawled up her body, his eyes dark and determined, his body hot and taut. 'Now. I figure we still have a few minutes. About that talk…'
As if it could be as simple for her as it was for him. He gave all, and expected the same in return. No hesitation, no second-guessing, no pretense, and sure as hell no wondering what anyone thought of him.
It was his sexiest, most arousing trait.
He didn't care about impressing her, or even being impressed by her. He just cared about her.
And he wanted her to care back.
So simple, so terrifying.
'Later,' she murmured, and because he held her hands down on either side of her head, she arched her body into his.
He made short work of losing her robe, then his shirt and pants, stopping only to fish something from the pocket.
In the dark, the condom packet seemed to glimmer.
Her entire body quivered, the searing reaction startling her. 'A well prepared man,' she murmured. 'I like that. Let me-'
He lifted it out of reach, smiling down at her in a way that wasn't entirely friendly. 'Not until you talk to me-'
'Please,' she said softly. 'Just love me.'
He looked down at her for a long beat, clearly torn. She knew what he wanted. He wanted the words, he wanted her to tell him how much she needed this. Him.
But holding that back was her last weapon, her last line of defense against him, and she wouldn't.
Couldn't.
