Then he saw her eyes widen just before they jerked back up to his face. He didn’t have to wonder why. Wardrobe malfunction.
“Don’t you dare.” The fire in her gaze clocked back to caution as she moved her fists off her hips in purely instinctive anticipation. Did she think he’d jump her? The idea shocked him.
“No worries.” He lifted both hands in the universal sign of surrender. But, damn, she shouldn’t blame a man for what he was thinking. Of course, he was accustomed to being able to control whether or not he revealed those thoughts.
Turning, he headed toward the smell of coffee brewing. She followed, her boots making angry sounds on the wood floor, and intercepted him before he could step over the dog gate.
“I asked you to get out. Now I’m telling you.” Her expression doubled down on the anger. “I’m not interested in your dog’s problems or you. Get out of my house, you no-good, turn-tail-and-run, worthless piece of shit.”
Well, that left no uncertainty about her feelings for him. She still hated his guts.
When Kye didn’t move, she moved in on him, turning her face up into his, chin thrust forward like a drill sergeant. It caused an adrenaline dump. Only for very different reasons. No non-commissioned officer in his experience ever had such luscious lips.
“Get. Out. Of. My. House.” She poked his bare chest with a finger as she said each word. “Out!”
Kye blinked. Every time her finger touched him, he felt a corresponding jerk in his dick. Didn’t she understand she was dealing with a man? One with a moral compass, but still a man who needed her to stay a respectful distance away. She was up in his face, crowding his breathing. Her chest was heaving. Her eyes were dilated and reckless. He saw a bead of perspiration form in that sweet cleft above her upper lip. It made him want to lick it off and keep on licking. To taste what she was offering.
Grab and hold. Oh yeah, he was in trouble.
His jaw locked with the effort to hold still. “Don’t touch me again.”
“Oh? Really?” Her dark eyes flashed, sending out sparks from the amber flecks he hadn’t noticed until she was close enough to kiss. “Why? What are you going to do?”
She was poking him again, little jabs that his body reacted to like injections of testosterone. Her mouth was only inches from his, still forming words he no longer heard.
He snaked a hand behind her head and hauled her in until only an inch separated their lips. “You better stop that.”
Stunned by how physical the confrontation had become, Yard stood still for three heartbeats. Then her hands came up and found his shoulders for leverage as she lifted her knee.
But he was quicker. His other hand moved quickly behind to her cup her butt, hauling her hips in hard against his so that her knee jab struck halfway up his thigh, useless. Then he was locking them together. Chest-to-chest. Stomach-to-stomach. Groin-to-groin. It felt sexy as hell to stand like this with a tall woman. Through his board shorts his dick just naturally found the grove at the apex of her thighs. With shorter women, his dick invariably poked into less productive territory, like an abdomen. This time there was no room for her to maneuver without giving him more access. No room to escape his arousal, hot and hard and arching against her mons. But she moved anyway, unthinkingly rubbing her sex against his arousal as she tried to break free.
“Dammit, Yard.”
Yardley stilled. He’d said her name in a rough whisper. It went through her like summer lightning, swift and piercing. No, she didn’t want this. Alarmed, she raked her nails down from his shoulders onto his pecs, fingers curled to deliver pain. Only she couldn’t. The feel of his firm warm skin and the contraction of the heavy muscles beneath was gloriously satisfying.
“My turn.” He closed the gap, their lips meeting.
She gasped in surprise and he took full advantage. His tongue swept into the gap and touched hers. As he ran his tongue over hers, heat and desire hammered in his temples. Her mouth was hot and delicious. He’d wanted to do this since the moment he saw her.
On the other end of the kiss, Yardley fought not to lose control completely, though her grasp of his pecs altered. Her fingers gently curled on his chest in neutrality, she told herself. Not surrender. But it felt like surrender.
He kissed her like he was out to make an impression. She didn’t know if it was for his benefit or hers. Whatever. It was working.
His mouth seemed to melt every angry unhappy thought in her mind until her arms were sliding up his neck again, this time to hold on. Readying for what came next.
It didn’t happen.