He grinned. “Me, too. I’m just saying there’s different levels of fighting, and ours is more of a part of communicating. Sure, we each got in a jibe now and then, but I never wanted to hurt you.”
Riley went over the endless incidents, battles, and arguments that made up her years at Cornell. Funny, she never really thought of it like that. But when she stormed off, she was more aggravated he wouldn’t do what she wanted. He never took potshots, or bullied, or ever made her cry. Huh. Weird. In a way, it was almost like . . .
Foreplay.
Her eyes widened.
She couldn’t stop looking at those lips, wondering if they’d feel the same or she’d be in for a huge disappointment. After all, it was a decade ago, and she’d changed. So had he. Innocence and illusions were gone. The kiss had probably been blown up in her memory as something untouchable. Right?
“Do you believe me, Riley?” His voice caressed her name in a low, deep rumble. Her breath hitched, and suddenly she was burning up in her chair, desperate to touch him.
“Yes.”
“Good.” Those beastly erotic eyes burned across the table and held her captive. “You know a lot of fighting is well documented to be an indicator of repressed sexual attraction.”
Usually she’d treat him to a withering remark, or a derisive snort. Instead, her tongue remained glued to the roof of her mouth. She sat helplessly still in her chair, unable to move.
Because he was right.
There was some type of attraction between them. Maybe lust. He may not be suited to be her husband, or fit in her box, but Dylan McCray made her want. Bad things. Dirty things.
They were stuck together overnight, while a blizzard raged outside. She was a bit tipsy from the wine. They dined in a gorgeous room with a cozy fire. All the pieces slid together, and in that one blinding instant, she wanted to give herself this one night. If she offered, would he take her up on it? Was every step of banter up to now leading to this?
One night of reckless passion and abandonment. Her skin tingled from the thought. Did she dare? Her mind spun with the possibilities, caught on the precipice of impulse and reasoning, and then the final, irrevocable element locked in her decision.
The lights went out.
chapter 5
Something was happening.
The lights snuffed out and Dylan was left in the dark, sporting a mental fog and a massive erection. She completely entranced him with her quick-witted dialogue, more intoxicating than whiskey and more of a turn-on than a Sports Illustrated cover model.
The memory of her as a young girl was a faint shimmer of the woman she’d become. Magnificent. How many dates had he been on and been disappointed? Too many to count. Always needing more . . . wanting more . . . yet not able to figure out what the elusive element was.
Until now.
Riley was spit and vinegar, smart and sassy, and he wanted her. Under him. Over him. In his house, and his bed.
Tonight.
Dylan finally managed to speak. “Guess those candles were a good idea after all.”
Her husky laugh stroked his ears and other places. Shadows fell on the wall and played. Her silhouette from the fire and candlelight illuminated her in a fiery glow. The thoughts of what he wanted to do with her, to her, made his gut clench and his dick stretch uncomfortably against his jeans. Now he just had to convince her to play.
Dylan rose, taking one of the candelabras to the other end of the table. “Are you okay?”
She tilted her head. God, she was beautiful. The burgundy in her hair, the soft violet of her eyes, the redness of her lips. The deep V neck of her sweater tempted him to taste the tender flesh there, pull down her sweater to bare her breasts. Suck and bite her nipples until she grabbed his shoulders and cried out his name.
She seemed to catch the vibe in the air and trembled. So close. Her barriers were shifting, opening, allowing just a tiny access point where he intended to jump right in. Timing was everything.
Yes, she was just as aware of him as he was of her. They’d always had a strange physical chemistry that battled with their verbal and mental clashes. Maybe that’s what made it so damn hot.
“For being trapped in spook mansion with no lights in a blizzard? I’m peachy.”
“I have a backup generator. Need to go put it on.”
She stretched out her legs with a languorous air and propped one elbow on the table. “I don’t know. It sets the mood.”
Dylan stiffened. Was she flirting? He’d planned on trying to seduce her, but Riley Fox always seemed to switch things up. He got off on trying to anticipate her next move. “Mood, huh? We spoke about everything else. Maybe it’s time we talked about the kiss.”