Ah, he’d managed to surprise her. His skin tingled with anticipation. They’d been dancing around each other all night, and it was finally time to get honest. The tension tightened a notch. Her scent enveloped him in a mix of exotic musk and a touch of jasmine—kick-ass and powerful—and not the least bit subtle. Just how he liked it.
He wanted her. There was a reason she was trapped in his house on the night of a blizzard. Kinnections had matched them. It was a sign, and he’d spent most of his life listening to his gut to balance the logic in his head. Too much logic and control caused mistakes. Too much impulse and freedom caused sloppiness.
Balance equaled success.
Riley had it all along or she’d never been able to build her business. Somewhere on her journey, she trusted her gut to make bold decisions that didn’t make sense on paper. He knew well the ugliness out in the world when dealing with money and power, and no one came away without disillusions. She’d taken hers and made herself stronger. Every part of her fascinated him, and he intended to plumb the depths tonight.
She tapped a finger against her glass. “Surprised you remembered.”
“What if I told you I still dream about that kiss?”
“I’d say I barely put a blip on your radar. You were always happy to move on to the next pretty face and good set of boobs.”
“You’re right. I was too young, raw, and ambitious. I wanted to savor every flavor life threw at me, suck the nectar dry, and have no regrets. And I don’t, Riley. Except for one.”
“What?”
Without breaking her gaze, he dropped in front of her, his hand resting lightly on her knee. Slowly, he parted her legs and knelt between them. Her harsh indrawn breath drifted to his ears in a symphony. Dylan reached out and grabbed a tendril of hair, sliding it between his fingers from root to tip, enjoying the feel of raw silk wrapping itself around him in a tight bind. The thought of her gorgeous hair wrapping around his dick as she pleasured him made a low groan rumble from his throat.
“You,” he said simply.
Shock mingled with an arousal she couldn’t hide, evident in her wide eyes, the tightening of her nipples, the way she squeezed her thighs together mercilessly, as if desperate to keep him from scenting the truth. Dylan bet if he slipped his hand beneath her panties he’d find her wet and willing to do whatever he wanted. The key was getting her mind on board with her very delectable, sensual body.
He sunk both hands into her hair, holding her firmly at the nape of her neck. “That kiss haunted me. Do you know how many times I jerked off to just the memory of your lips over mine, your taste against my tongue? How badly I ached to lay you naked on my bed and take everything you’d give me? Bring you so much pleasure you’d scream and beg me to stop? To continue? To fuck you so thoroughly there’s not another man on the planet you’d be able to touch without thinking of me?”
A shudder wracked her body. He waited for her reaction. Would it be retreat? A scathing remark meant to barb and push? A flirtatious, frustrating cat-and-mouse game?
Instead of retreat, she leaned in, so her breath struck softly against his lips. The heat between them pulled and tantalized. Dylan clawed for control, when all he wanted was to take her mouth, strip her naked, and see how many orgasms it would take to finally get her to surrender. He hoped a lot. He planned on it.
“What makes you so sure I remember it?” she drawled against his mouth.
His dick wept for mercy. The primitive male in him roared to take her and show her the truth. Instead, with an inch between their lips, he smiled real slow.
“I’m betting you thought about that kiss, too. Late at night. Under the covers. Wet and aching for me. Let’s finish what we started. Let me take you to my bed.”
In his wettest, wildest imagination, Dylan never would’ve believed the woman could raise the stakes so high and so fast. Yet, in typical fashion, she managed to blow him away.
Her voice was a husky whisper of smoke and temptation. “Why? I see a perfectly good table in front of you.” His hands tightened brutally in her hair. “Do you have the guts to use it?”
Dylan waited a full beat. Two.
Then slammed his mouth over hers.
The world tumbled in slow motion, then stopped for a brief moment. Her blood rushed in her veins, wetness seeped between her thighs, her pulse pounded with a mad glee, and then he kissed her and it was all over.
She was lost.
A low moan ripped from her throat at contact and his tongue plunged deep. Completely raw, with little finesse and all dark hunger, he invaded her mouth.