I’m not sure it was one.”
Smiling, Kellan let go of her arm and held both of his hands up in a gesture indicating he’d back off. “Then I will say good-night from here.”
“Yes. From here,” she agreed without moving or taking the fire in her gaze down a notch.
“I’m not sure what you want,” he confessed after another minute of silence passed. Though he had a good enough idea. Chances were decent that she truly wanted him as badly as he wanted her and this fragile-looking woman had an edge he hadn’t yet fully witnessed. She might even crave danger, when he was danger personified.
Slowly, carefully, he helped her off the bike and took hold of the collar of her coat. This time when she stumbled close, he tilted her head back with his finger, grinned wickedly when her eyes met his and dared to rest his mouth lightly on hers.
He waited for the slap that didn’t come before applying more pressure. This wasn’t a real kiss—more like a test of wills and a bargain between them that had finally been exposed.
Her participation in the kiss would be a green light and would shatter any remaining roadblocks leading to her apartment. If she didn’t kiss him back, he’d have to regroup.
Ah, but her mouth was exactly as he had imagined it would be. Her soft, supple, wind-chilled lips tasted like mint toothpaste. They trembled slightly. Her eyes were closed.
“What are you thinking?” Kellan asked her silently. “Who am I to you?”
He waited, impatient, hopeful, until the lips beneath his finally parted and her warm breath seeped into his mouth.
McKenna felt herself losing ground in a multitude of battles. Between her body and her mind. Between her principles of right and wrong. And between the possibility of falling into a dangerous situation that might lead to an experience of the sublime.
She was under this guy’s spell. His mouth was an inferno, and she craved its warmth. He was an enigma, a face without a name, and though she was taking a chance, she’d been well trained in taking care of herself.
There was a nine-millimeter Glock in her nightstand and a revolver in a desk drawer by the front door. Her apartment was alarmed, armed with panic-button-type security. It was all there thanks to the bullet that seemed to have hit her in another lifetime, and the long recovery she’d endured.
Taking chances didn’t seem so disturbing when, due to the severity of that injury, she felt as if she was already living on borrowed time.
She wanted to feel something. She wanted to explore the edges of the unknown and find a place ruled by pure sensation. If this stranger could give her that...well, all right, and God bless his perfect, leather-clad hide.
Surprisingly, his kiss was tender at first—not much more than a light pressure. He was judging her reaction, being honorable about waiting for her response. So she kissed him back.
Green light.
He got the hint and deepened the kiss. More pressure. More heat. The warmth of his mouth ignited fires deep down inside her that grew even hotter when he slipped the tip of his tongue between her teeth.
Yes, you beautiful bastard!
Her mind soared. Her body began to overheat. McKenna placed both of her hands on his shoulders and dug her fingers into the worn black leather, looking for a hold. In the back of her mind she conjured more unladylike four-letter words that described her wanton behavior.
But what the hell...
Her knight crushed her body to his, bending her spine, kissing her with a passion that was shockingly new. This kind of passion suggested a world far from her familiar one, a place of raw abandon where anything was possible. Having his mouth on hers created in her a hunger for something she’d never even sampled. That hunger began to take her over.
He was what she wanted right that minute. More of this. More of him. God yes, she might have gone temporarily insane, but she was going to have it all.
Damn you...
Each second in this man’s embrace piled on more greed. Her skin buzzed with excitement. The deep V between her thighs tingled, anxious to be touched, entered, taken, filled, either gently or roughly, without caring about feelings, pain or hurt, and how she might hate herself afterward.
She longed to feel alive again, and this guy knew how to take care of that. He seemed to understand the things her life lacked and was willing to show them to her.
What have I become?
When he pulled back, she wanted to strike him in protest. She didn’t want to go back to being bland, scarred McKenna. Not now. Not yet. When she looked up, it was to find a questioning glint in his unusually light, sky blue eyes.
“You need to know my name.” The tone of his voice was like a second caress.
McKenna shook her head. “I’d rather not know that.”
“Then at least tell me yours.”
Without the heated pressure of his lips, she quickly chilled. “McKenna.”
He said, “It suits you. I like it.”
“Does liking my name make a difference?”
“It makes things more personal, don’t you think?”
“I’m trying to avoid personal.”
“Then we won’t be going inside?”
McKenna was surprised to hear her reply. “Yes. We will.”
After a kiss like that, she was wholeheartedly willing to put herself on the line.
“Yes,” she repeated, holding back the urge to straddle the guy right here on the street.
He was infuriatingly calm. Taking her hand in his, her motorcycle-riding knight turned from the street and led her to her front door...straight toward the culmination of those wicked images she could barely keep to herself.
* * *
Before McKenna realized it, they were almost up the stairs to her fifth-floor loft. No further threat of fainting spells came. She didn’t have to be carried since she was fueled by anticipation and adrenaline.
She handed him her key. Inside the high-ceilinged space, lights set on timers blazed in honor of her late return. Clothes from the day before lay strewn on the floor. The bed was unmade.
Her companion didn’t seem to notice the disarray. Once the door closed behind them, his hands were on her again. He gathered her into his arms, his mouth moving greedily on hers.
Nothing was left of the gentleman now. These kisses were acts of ravenous, insatiable hunger that hurled McKenna toward a heightened emotional state. Breathing became a game between her mouth and his, her lungs and his. The tightness of his hold on her kept the world from tilting.
Her
