Strong, Sleek and Sinful fscs-1

by Lorie O

  “Because I know what you’re doing.”

  Kylie put her cup under the faucet and let it fill with tap water.

  She took her time turning around and brought her cup to her lips, watching him while sipping. No way would he get her frazzled.

  “Why are you questioning me if you already know what I’m doing?” An ice cube brushed against her lip and she savored how cold it was. Anything to help keep her grounded.

  “Questioning you?”

  “You asked me what I was doing when you walked in the door, yet now you say you know what I’m doing.” She smiled, sipped again, focused on the cold water soothing the fire burning inside her. “Did you learn this by my actions after entering my home?”

  “No.” The hungry look in his eyes made them brighter. But it was the way he pressed his lips together, not frowning or smiling, that made him look dangerous, like a deadly predator who ruled all around him, and contemplated making her his next conquest. “Who is your professor?”

  Kylie rolled her eyes, although she needed to play out her next card very carefully. If and when she nailed her guy, it would come out that she was FBI. She wouldn’t insult Perry too much for questioning her.

  “You don’t believe I’m a student.” She put her cup down on the counter and sighed, sounding frustrated as she started to move around him.

  Once again he grabbed her arm, this time turning her to face him with enough force that she slapped her palm against his chest to balance herself. Tingles shot through her hand when she touched muscle that was solid like steel.

  “Where are you going?” he growled, searching her face.

  “I don’t have my professor’s information memorized.” She gestured with her free hand. “I was going to get you his phone number so you can call him and prove to yourself who I am.”

  “And will this professor also confirm what it is you’re writing your thesis about?” he asked.

  “You can ask him, or believe me,” she said, softening her tone and looking up at him through her lashes.

  “Here’s what I think. You might be the student you claim you are, and you might be working on a paper or thesis.” He let go of her arm but then gripped her neck, his long finger pressing under her jaw until she tilted her head back farther. “I also think you’ve stumbled onto something, crimes that intrigue you, and now you think you’re Agatha Christie.”

  “You see me as an old woman with a British accent?” she retorted, pulling free from him and hurrying out of her kitchen. She needed him to leave, and the longer he kept his hands on her, the harder it would be to get him out of her house.

  He was behind her faster than she imagined he would be. “Hardly,” he growled, flipping her around to face him once again and this time pulling her into his arms. When he kissed her, the savage hunger he displayed had her insides boiling feverishly within seconds.

  Kylie tried moving her hands to his chest. Maybe he thought she meant to push him away, and in some part of her brain she knew that she should. Get him to leave. Return to work. Her thoughts grew more muddled the longer he devoured her mouth. Not to mention the way he tightened his hold on her, pinning her with his arms against his rock-hard body, turned her on a hell of a lot more than she should let it.

  There was something about a man who got a bit rough. Something about how a demanding nature, taking and controlling and leaving no room for any reaction other than submission, got her so hot she swore she’d be a puddle at his feet in moments.

  “Perry,” she gasped, managing to turn her head and break the kiss. Her lips tingled and a pang of regret hit her when she sucked in a deep breath. If she moved her face, looked into his intense eyes, she would initiate the next kiss. And she couldn’t do that. “Why are you doing this?” Her voice was no more than a raspy whisper.

  “To get it out of the way.” His voice was rough.

  “And that was necessary?”

  He moved his fingers through her hair and then brushed them across her face. She needed distance, for him to quit touching her, and then her thoughts would return to normal.

  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 another 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 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 her 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 T-shirts look like body armor, the way they sculpted 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 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 it 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 fished through the pocket of her briefcase, 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 her hand out 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’d 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 wasn’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 added, “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 his 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.

  “Perry, leave.” There was no insistence left in her, but she made the words come out nonetheless.

  And she hated it when he backed up, leaving her against the wall. He headed down the hall toward the front door and opened it. She felt drunk when she followed him and gulped in a few soothing breaths to regain her composure so that when she reached the door she hoped there was some appearance of control in her expression.

  “Your nieces are good girls. I won’t let them get hurt,” she promised him.

  Perry didn’t comment but walked down her sidewalk to his car. She watched him climb in and start his engine before she slowly closed and locked her door.

  Chapter 6

  Perry adjusted the earpiece, listening carefully while he drove out of Kylie’s neighborhood. He heard the sound of a doorknob turning and then footsteps. Kylie had unlocked that middle room and was once again in there. For good measure, he drove around the block, confirmed what he’d heard when he saw the middle light on through the window and kept going. Something that sounded as if a chair slid across the floor. Damn, his bugging equipment that he’d placed in her hallway, and just inside her front door, was sensitive as hell. It might not be what some would consider scrupulous, but no one would harm his nieces. Perry would know beyond any doubt that Kylie’s intentions were good before he allowed anyone to get closer to her.

  His cell phone rang as he ran his tongue over his lips, still tasting her. No, he wasn’t getting too close to her. It didn’t matter how good she felt or smelled. Or how damn aroused she got him. Her intelligence and beauty were compelling, and he’d see her again, and soon. But he had to know beyond any doubt that she wasn’t indulging in any foul play.

  “Hello,” he said, noting the number calling as he yanked the earpiece for his equipment that allowed him to hear into Kylie’s house.

  “Hey, little brother,” Megan said, sounding cheerful yet tired. She always sounded tired these days. “Word on the street is that you might have found a hot little number.”

  “What?” he hissed, rolling his eyes. “Hold on a minute.” He dropped the earpiece that had a cord attached to a black box in his passenger seat. Then grabbing his Bluetooth out of the cubby on his dash where a CD player or some other modern contraption could be installed if he were so inclined, he shoved it in his ear. “Do I even want to ask what you might have heard?”

  Before Megan, his sister and mother of his nieces, spoke he was positive he heard amusement in her sigh. “It appears the girls spent the afternoon with a Kylie Dover. I admit freaking on it a bit, even with Diane there, too, until they told me you were part of this gathering as well. Mind filling me in on what’s going on?”

  “What did the girls tell you?”

  “You know I hate it when you answer my questions with questions.”

  He knew. He also was curious whether the girls had told Megan a different story about Kylie than what they had told him. When he didn’t respond, Megan sighed again, sounding slightly less amused, and continued. “Dani met her first at the bowling alley earlier this week. They tell me she’s working on her thesis over at KU but came here to get a different perspective from teenagers. Apparently she’s going to several different towns before writing her thesis and turning it in. They tell me she’s a cultural anthropologist and is focusing on teenagers as a subculture within our social structure. From what I heard, it sounds as if she actually has some interesting data gathered.”

  “She told the girls what data she’s gathered?” It wasn’t jealousy or envy that stabbed at his insides. Just because Kylie wouldn’t let him see her work but shared it with his nieces didn’t mean shit. He did barge in on her and accuse her of playing investigator. And the jury was still out on that one.

  “Dani told me she saw some of Kylie’s notes. She’s convinced that fourteen-to sixteen-year-old girls are more daring on the computer than seventeen-and eighteen-year-old girls. Apparently, although all girls in that age group seem to have no problem meeting people they don’t know after talking to them online, girls in the fourteen-to sixteen-year-old bracket are more inclined to meet boys for dates than teenagers in other age brackets.” Megan paused and sipped at a drink.

  He pictured his sister gripping her glass of iced tea, drinking and then getting that faraway look in her eyes like she always did when she digested information. “What was Dani’s take on all of that?”

  “Are you kidding? Dani tell me what she’s thinking?” Megan laughed. “So anyway, the girls think it would be great to have Kylie over for dinner. And I admit I’m a bit curious about her. How does next Wednesday night sound to you?”

  “Why are you asking me?” Perry scowled, already guessing the outcome of the conversation. He hated his sister trying to match him up with anyone. “If you want to meet Kylie, that’s your business. I’ll be busy.”

  “You will not,” Megan snapped. “And I expect you to invite her over. Let’s say six thirty. That gives me time to get home from work and I’ll have the girls focus on supper.”

  Perry turned onto his street and slowed, hitting his brights before he reached his driveway. “Megan, you know I hate it when you get your hopes up about something.”

  “Perry. I�
��m a widow with four teenage daughters. I work two jobs and have no life. Let me do this. It will be fun and something to look forward to,” she said, pausing as her tone turned serious. “Or are you telling me that there is absolutely no chemistry whatsoever between the two of you?”

  He didn’t mean to hesitate with his answer. Perry glanced in his rearview mirror and then across his yard when his headlights swooped over his large, neatly mowed corner lot. It was habit, confirming that no one lurked waiting for him to get out of his Jeep. Years of being on the force, knowing he was personally responsible for more than one criminal going to jail, made it habitual to watch his ass coming and leaving his home.

  “That’s what I thought,” Megan said smugly, as if he’d responded. “Then next Wednesday at six thirty. Be sure and tell me when she confirms.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he grumbled, and parked the Jeep outside his garage door, which was closed. “Talk to you later, Sis.”

  “Love you, little bro,” she chirped, and hung up the phone.

  Perry grabbed his monitoring equipment and cell phone and then headed inside. He showered, something that usually helped him unwind after coming home, but tonight he was wound just as tight after slipping into his sweatpants and padding barefoot to his kitchen for a beer.

  He opened his refrigerator, staring at the bleak contents before leaning over and pulling out one of several longneck beers. Twisting the cap off, he tossed it in the trash and grabbed the monitoring equipment.

  Perry’s den faced the front of his house and oftentimes served as his bedroom as well as a computer room. After closing his blinds and placing the small black box next to his computer, he changed the settings so he could hear everything without earphones and slumped into his chair behind his computer.

  His desktop appeared on his monitor when he moved his mouse and at the same time the audio started crackling on his monitoring equipment. Perry strained to hear what was picked up on the bugs in Kylie’s home.