Page 32 of The Cold Ride

“It is.” I poked him dead center of his chest. Which was much like poking a sleeping lion in the chest.

His eyes narrowed into angry slits, but he didn’t back down. He never backed down. It drove me nuts. And he quietly murmured a warning, “Careful.”

That one word dropped between us like a grenade with the pin removed, liable to blow at any minute. I was testy after the disaster with the HVAC guy; I was ready to go ten rounds with him. And being near him again, I didn’t know if I was angry or horny or a combination of both. I spat, “Or you’re going to do what?”

James glowered. He was every inch the hardened soldier. And my body got its wires crossed. Because it fucking purred at the testosterone pulsing off him. His jaw was tight. He didn’t utter a word in response. But there was an angry tick in his jaw. He was holding back.

I didn’t know why, but his stalwart composure burned and fueled my rage. And this time, I got up in his face. I was tired of fighting every damn day. I was tired of apologizing. Because I was done with being the scapegoat. Yes, I made mistakes. But he had too. When I tried talking to him after our night together, he shut me out and wouldn’t even talk to me. Maybe if he’d given me five damn minutes . . . fuck, we would never know. But I was done with being his emotional piñata.

I poked his chest again, drilling my finger against his chest. Not that it moved him at all. “I asked you a question. Or are you just going to shut me out again?”

My actions were akin to waving a red flag in front of a pissed-off bull.

He glanced at my lips. The hunger in his gaze rocked me to my core. I’d never had any other man look at me the way James did, not even my ex-husband. He stared at my lips like they were his oasis in a desert.

Need gripped me in a stranglehold.

It had been years since I’d been touched. And his lips beckoned me. The stern firmness twisted me up inside. Because I understood his darkness. He was done pretending life was anything more than shit. Just like me. I might act like everything was sunshine and daisies, but it was all an act. My life had been a series of hard choices and crushing defeats, with the exception of two bright spots: Amelia and the night I spent with James.

People had underestimated and misunderstood me my entire life. I’d been discarded by a mother who didn’t want me. Left to fend for myself by a father who didn’t care and considered me nothing but a burden.

But not James. He saw me, the real me. The one with no makeup or elegant veneer, who’d rather spend the night at home than out on the town. The one with grit in her heart and a tarnished soul that would never be fully cleansed.

And it’s why I couldn’t resist the lure that drew me inexplicably to him. Gripping his shirt, I stunned us both for half a heartbeat. His hot breath fanned over my face. My pulse rate spiked. With need urging me on, I laid my lips upon his and sucked on his bottom lip. An electric current shot through me. It felt like I’d taken a few shots of tequila.

I kissed him, teasing his lips with my tongue, aching for entrance. Had I made the wrong call? Did I need to back off before I messed things up further between us?

Dammit, I didn’t want to. A part of me would die if I stopped. Because I’d waited ten years to kiss him again. But he wasn’t responding and acted like a statue, frozen and immovable.

My grip on his shirt slackened. Disappointment flooded me. He wasn’t going to kiss me back. Had I ruined things further? Would this harm his relationship with Amelia? How could I be so fucking selfish—

His dark groan slid through me. My pussy clenched at the deep rumbling. It sounded as if it had been ripped from his soul.

James’s hands framed my face. The sheer power in his touch was like touching a downed electrical wire. He changed the angle of our kiss, slanting his mouth more firmly, and I opened for him.

And he fucking devoured me with his kiss. Every part of my body lit up. Pleasure engulfed me. His plunging tongue caused answering tugs deep down in my core.

This was what I had been missing in my life all these years. But it wasn’t just the kiss I’d been missing, but the man. No one kissed me like James.

I slid my hands up his solid chest, his muscles flexing beneath my fingers. His body had been powerful a decade before, but now he had honed it further and was more solid than a tank. My hands clasped his neck and held on. I never wanted the kiss to end. He was the only man who made the rest of the world disappear the moment his lips touched mine. We could be anywhere. Standing on a beach, on top of a mountain, or about to fall off the edge of the world, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was that he never stopped.

And he was as caught in the trap of our desire.

But I wanted more. I wanted all of him. Those hands I loved so much slid slowly down my back, my skin burning in the wake of his touch. I felt an answering tug, my core clenching as pleasure enveloped me. He cupped my ass and tugged my body until I was plastered against him.

The man was solid, steady as a fucking rock, and everything I ever wanted. He made me feel like I could hand him all my problems and simply lean for the first time in my life.

But even pressed against his rock-hard body wasn’t close enough. I wanted us skin to skin. I ached to feel him inside me, to erase the past ten years as if they had never been and let the tide of pleasure swirling around us carry us out to sea.

I lifted my leg around his waist. He growled into my mouth. Actually growled, and my pussy pulsed in response. His wicked kiss turned depraved, like he had every intention of owning my soul by the time he was done. And he could have it because it was useless without him anyway.

I moaned when he lifted my other leg so that both were wrapped around his waist. His hands gripped my ass and held me tight.

And then he moved, never lifting his mouth. He pressed my body against the nearest wall and obliterated me with his kiss. I yanked at his shirt, needing him naked. Craving him, aching to lose myself in him.

“Hang on to me,” he ordered, striding down the hall to my bedroom.

I sucked on his neck, hungry to taste him everywhere. My entire being was attuned to his every move. He shoved my bedroom door open and entered. The four-poster king bed with its numerous pillows had never been for anything more than sleeping.

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