Page 30 of Single-Minded
Presley was my opposite in every way. And yet her touch enflamed my blood like nothing I’d ever experienced before.
I deepened the kiss, running my tongue along the seam of her lips. She opened to me instantly, as if there was nothing she wanted more. Our tongues touched, swirled, tasted, tangled, the connection like an explosion that sent a throbbing need through my veins and straight down to my dick.
She pulled my head to hers, telling me she was all in. I slid my hands down her back, drawing her into my hard body, as if I could get her any closer. I wanted to devour her, consume her, lay her out on the floor and pound into her?—
Shit.
I fought to pull back, put a few inches between our mouths, breathing hard, stunned at my urges. It was as if she turned me into an animal, which was fitting. Next to her, I was rough, coarse, clumsy, reduced to primitive thoughts.
Presley caught her lower lip with her teeth as her mouth curved into a half smile. She lifted her heavy lids and peered up at me, her eyes bright, alive, looking not at all regretful.
That didn’t make kissing her okay.
I tried to find words, but all I could manage was a low growl as I looked down at her gorgeous face, those pink lips, wanting to do that again.
“Thanks for saving me,” she whispered, still grinning.
That brought me back to reality enough to remember the floor we stood on wasn’t safe. “We’re lucky we didn’t both fall through,” I managed.
With my hands at her waist, I lifted her, pivoted, and set her on the bottom step, trying not to notice the feel of her bare skin beneath my palms. She weighed hardly anything.
“The stairs are okay?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t assume that,” I said, “but it looks like the slats closest to the water are the worst.” I took out my phone, squatted down, and turned on the flashlight to inspect the wood more closely, trying to concentrate on the task. Trying to ignore the way my blood still pounded away from my brain instead of to it.
“It’s very valiant of you to whisk me here to semisafety, but shouldn’t you stay off the wood too?” she asked. “I’m guessing you weigh more than me. All muscle, of course.”
I could hear her grin without looking up at her.
“I know how to swim if I fall through,” I told her, creeping carefully toward the garage door, assessing the wood, coaching my heart to slow the hell down.
Thoughts were creeping in, making it difficult to focus on my inspection. Thoughts like, What the godforsaken hell were you thinking to kiss her?
Staying to the outer slats along the exterior walls, I made my way around where the bow would go, then to the other side, finding the same results there.
Presley moved up the stairs to the landing inside the door, her eyes on me.
When my pulse had slowed nearly back to normal range and my dick had calmed the hell down, I went to the stairs, headed up, and stopped two from the top, putting me at eye level with Presley. That landing would be tight quarters for both of us. I needed distance, not closeness.
“The floor needs to be replaced completely,” I said, summoning my professional tone. “The walls probably just repainted. I’ll take a look at the outside to be sure.”
“Could your company do that?”
Without looking directly at her, as if she was the sun and could burn my retinas, I answered, “We could probably fit it in while we work on the rest of the house. Might take us a couple extra days is all. Look, Presley, I was out of line.” I gestured over my shoulder as I dared to meet her gaze. “Kissing you was inappropriate and wrong. I’m sorry.”
Her pretty features dipped in a frown. “I’m not. Please don’t ruin it by apologizing. That was…too spectacular to apologize.”
I swallowed, trying not to get lost in her imploring blue eyes. Trying not to be pulled in by her words. Spectacular. She thought that kiss was spectacular, and I sure as hell couldn’t disagree.
“You’re my client,” I said, my voice rough.
She tilted her head, her expression lightening. “Does your company have a policy against kissing clients?”
I chuckled. “My company is a small construction business that doesn’t pay lawyers to write up official policies, no. But common sense?—”
“That felt like something that shouldn’t be ruined by common sense if you ask me.”
I studied her, tried to argue. The words I knew I should say didn’t come out.
