Long, Lean and Lethal

by O'Clare, Lorie

Kylie stared at her hand, resting against his chest, and moved her fingers. Roped muscle quivered under her touch. A sense of control rushed over her. Maybe he could turn her brain to mush and create desire inside her stronger than anything she’d felt in years, but she was doing the same thing to him. He wasn’t the rock of solid determination he wanted her to believe he was.

  “You tell me.” He gripped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.

  “I think it was necessary for you. Maybe you worried your rock of resolve might crumble if you didn’t taste me.”

  “Are you always this stubborn?” he asked, chuckling and then letting his fingers stroke her neck, move lower and brush the swell of her breast before he quit touching her.

  “I’m being stubborn?” Kylie felt control once again and sucked in a fresh breath, strengthening her resolve. “You should go, Perry. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Show me this work.”

  That was the last thing she wanted to do. “I’ll show you when it’s done, if you really want to see it.” She headed to her front door and rested her palm against the doorknob. It was cool and made her realize how hot and damp her hand was. “And I’m not going to get it done if you don’t leave.” She offered him a smile that she hoped reassured him she wasn’t getting rid of him, although that was exactly what she needed to do.

  “I think you promised me a name and number to call.” He didn’t budge.

  “Oh yeah.” Kylie turned, padding barefoot down the hallway to her bedroom. Paul had made business cards for her in case she needed to back up her story, but they were in her briefcase. That wouldn’t be a problem if she could keep Perry at bay long enough to fish them out.

  She squatted in her dark bedroom and unzipped the side pocket to her briefcase as her bedroom light turned on. “Tell me you’re not trying to play detective and I’ll be satisfied,” Perry said, leaning in the doorway and crossing his arms.

  “I’m not,” she said, taking in how his jeans molded over long muscular legs. He made Tshirts look like body armor, the way they sculpted over his broad chest and the sleeves hugged well-defined biceps. Eye candy barely described how tempting he looked. “What has you so worried, though?” she asked, deciding that turning the tables and putting him on the defensive would keep her head clear, in control, and probably make him leave sooner. “Are you on some investigation right now?”

  She knew the look people gave her when they asked about what crimes she might be fighting to solve. That look of excitement, eagerness to hear the inside scoop. It caused people’s faces to light up, their eyes to spark with curiosity. Kylie looked up at Perry from her squatting position and knew she gave him that exact look when his expression turned wary.

  “No,” he said simply, surprising her, but there was something that clouded over his gaze that grabbed her attention.

  “Oh,” she said, not needing to pretend to sound disappointed. “Then what are you worried about?”

  She looked away from him before he answered and fished through the pocket of her bag, which leaned against the side of her dresser, until she found the card she needed.

  “My nieces think the world of you.”

  The admission startled her.

  “And they’re my responsibility to protect. If you’re using them in any way to gather information because you’re trying to find a criminal, no matter how good you feel your intentions are, you’re going to stop right now. I’m not going to let you put yourself, or them, in harm’s way.”

  Kylie stood and ran her hand down her dress, straightening it while she watched Perry’s attention shift down her body. She moved toward him slowly, holding out her hand with the card in it.

  “I’m going to let that comment slide,” she began and his gaze snapped to her face, “because you don’t know me that well. But you better believe that I would never do anything to harm your nieces, or any other child, ever.”

  He took the card, and slid it into the pocket on his chest without looking at it. She worried he’d trap her in her bedroom, but he turned and started down the hallway. Kylie was right behind him, but he stopped, causing her to almost run into his backside. He grabbed the doorknob to her middle bedroom and turned, then frowned when it was locked.

  “Why do you keep this room locked?”

  “It’s where I work.”

  He looked down at her. He was easily over six feet tall, with his broad shoulders and thick chest aiding in him looking fierce. His dark eyes and short, almost black hair, not to mention that tiny scar on the side of his jawbone, made him appear dangerous. Kylie could hold her own with the self-defense classes she was required to take, a black belt in karate, and years of experience handling criminals who were twice her weight and body size. Nonetheless, she felt the danger radiating from his pores. His body was a weapon, and if she weren’t careful, she’d be his target practice.

  “Unlock the door,” he ordered.

  She smiled easily. “No way. It’s locked for a reason. My work is private until I’m done. If I allow anyone to give their opinion on what I’m writing, it distracts me,” she added for good measure. Then keeping her expression light she said, “You really should go now, Perry.”

  He turned on her and she barely had time to raise her hand in protest before he pushed into her, proving how solid and invincible that body of his was.

  “No, don’t,” she managed to get out before he knocked the wind out of her when he shoved her against the wall and pounced on her mouth.

  God. She loved it rough. And obviously Perry did, too. He impaled her mouth, devouring her before she could catch her breath. His fingers scraped over her shoulder, pushing the strap of her dress down so that she couldn’t raise her arm. He squeezed her breast and growled into her mouth.

  Kylie swore her world turned sideways. She had one free arm and she grabbed his shoulder, fighting to stay grounded as she opened to him, taking what he insisted on giving her and drinking him up as fast as she could.

  She kept her fingernails short, yet filed and painted, her personal vanity. And with what nails she had, she dug into his shoulder, feeling how solid he was and rubbing her fingers over the swell of roped muscle. Then wrapping her fingers around the side of his neck, she lost herself in the solid repetitive beat of his heart as it pulsed through the vein in his neck.

  “Don’t tell me ‘no’ again,” he hissed into her mouth, moving his lips over hers.

  Her eyes were still closed and she relaxed between the wall and his virile body. “Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t want,” she challenged, and then blinked several times, her vision blurring when she gazed into his face.

  His eyes pierced her soul. “I haven’t so far,” he growled.