Page 15 of Endurance

Oh my God. Dean.

Almost intrusively, thoughts of my potential fiancé popped into my head. I tore my mouth from Sloan’s, shocked at myself and awash with feelings of guilt. I stepped back, only to see his heavy breathing matched my own. His short dark hair was mussed, and I half wondered if I’d been the one to do it or if it had just dried that way after the shower.

What in the world has come over me?

The kiss had only lasted a few seconds, but it still took me a moment to calm my racing heart. I tossed him an accusatory glare.

“Why did you do that?” I demanded.

“Do what?”

“Kiss me like that!”

Leaning against the door jamb, he looked me up and down. His piercing blue eyes seemed to say he had a secret only he knew, while the side of his mouth quirked up in the sexiest lopsided grin I’d ever seen.

“Would you have preferred me to kiss you in a different way?”

“No! You had no business kissing me at all!”

“Remind me again. Why did you agree to come to all the way to California?” he asked.

I puffed out an impatient breath, not sure why he wanted me to repeat what I’d literally just said a minute earlier. “I said it was a job assignment. I had no choice.”

“Well, then that’s my answer too.”

My brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you playing at, Sloan? That’s your answer to what?”

“You wanted to know why I kissed you. The answer is, I had no choice. Your lips are just too irresistible.” He shrugged, tossed me another crooked smile, then took a step back. “I’ll be at Auto Club Speedway tomorrow morning at ten. I’ll see you then, Kalliope Benton Riley.”

Without another word, he closed the front door.

I stood there for a solid minute, completely shocked over what I’d allowed to happen with a total stranger. Too stunned to do much else, I slowly turned and walked down the driveway toward my rented BMW. As my astonishment began to dissipate, my fury began to mount. Once I was safely inside the confines of the car, I slammed my palms against the steering wheel and let out a scream of frustration.

“Argh! Of all the nerve! Who does he think he is?”

I glanced at my reflection in the rearview mirror. My cheeks were flushed pink, and I wasn’t entirely sure if it was because I was mad or still turned on from Sloan’s kiss. Knowing it was probably the latter only infuriated me further.

I took one last look at Sloan Atwood’s contemporary-style home and wondered what I’d gotten myself into. With its oversized glass windows, sleek lines, and lack of any sort of feminine touch, the large Beverly Grove home was nothing more than an overpriced bachelor pad. Someone who lived in a place like this was probably used to getting their way with women without consequence.

I scowled at the house, then started the ignition and backed down the driveaway. As I made my way toward the interstate that would take me back to my rental house in Santa Monica, I tried to force myself to keep my temper in check and focus on the road ahead. However, my effort was in vain. The I-10 was bumper to bumper. I’d nearly forgotten how bad California traffic could be, no matter what time of the day it was. What should have been a twenty-minute drive could turn into a two-hour drive in the blink of an eye. Crawling along at five miles per hour gave me plenty of idle time to get lost in my thoughts—and the more I stewed, the angrier I got.

People didn’t just run around kissing other people without permission. The presumptuous jerk didn’t even know me. Never mind that I’d kissed him back—he never should have advanced on me that way in the first place. He was a client, for crying out loud—not to mention that I was engaged.

Sort of.

I glanced down at my hand where an engagement ring should have been.

“Damn it!” I spat out. I angrily beeped the horn for no other reason than because everyone else was doing it. It felt good to vent some of my frustration. I cursed Dean for being practical—for not giving me a ring that I could use as a shield against unwanted advances. Perhaps if he’d given me one, I might have said yes to his proposal. But I also cursed myself for welcoming a stranger’s kiss.

There was no doubt that Sloan was a man who knew what he wanted and took it. I could appreciate that because I was like that too in certain situations. It wasn’t about wielding power and control. It was merely about being driven to achieve.

But what happened on his doorstep was none of the above.

Sloan emitted a kind of sexual energy I had never before encountered, and he managed to ignite every desire I hadn’t known existed. With every look, every breath, and every word he spoke, my insides tightened with inexplicable arousal.

And I had loved every second of it.

I’d wanted Sloan to kiss me the minute he returned fresh from a shower wearing nothing but a pair of blue jeans. My stomach clenched as I recalled his appearance. His hair had been wet, the deep brown waves shedding tiny droplets of water onto his broad shoulders and chest. He had a face any male model would die for and a body to match. When he’d finally pulled on his white t-shirt, that only made my attraction to him even worse. His t-shirt had stretched tight around his arms, the sinewy muscle bulging from the sleeves. Seriously—the man’s biceps could be considered arm porn. He hadn’t just looked good, but he smelled good too—like the smell of the earth after a fresh rain, with just a hint of spiciness that made my toes curl.

---