Page 33 of Enticement
“Aren’t you?”
Evie pursed her lips together and defensively folded her arms. That look of his was deep as the ocean and as sweet as sin. Worse, this close to him she could tell he’d worked up a sweat. The scent of it, musky and male, shot with a harsh dash of testosterone wrenched at her insides. She wanted to sink into that smell and get herself all coated in it. Maybe even shove her nose right into his armpit and take a good sniff. She pictured the scene, but with her tongue darting out to lick the salt from his skin too.
Kit gave a humourless chuckle. “Hey now, guilt’s my middle name. Don’tcha know anything?”
“I know you’re bad, Mr. Christopher ‘Guilty’ Skye.”
He smacked down the axe and left it sticking out of the newest log. “You’d better believe it.”
Left without an escape route, as it was still several meters to the back doorstep, and he could move a darn sight faster than she could, Evie took an expectant gulp. However, instead of grabbing her, Kit stretched past her and tugged open the coalhouse door. “Delivery came, if you’re interested. Four sacks. I take it that’s right?”
“Four?” She glanced at the interior and at his nod, wandered inside. Sure enough there were four new sacks lined up against the wall along with the three that were already there. “Goddamnit! I told him to drop it down to two the last time he came. We’ll never use all that.”
The coalhouse door closed behind her, blown by the wind, leaving the tiny store in semi-darkness. Only a small amount of gloomy light filtered through the soot-filmed window. Evie swung round to push open the door again, only to find her palm in contact with Kit’s chest.
“Hey now,” he said when she jerked away. “I didn’t realize my efforts sucked that much.”
She could only see him as a silhouette against the door, all that black clothing and black hair blended in, but she understood the slow shake of his head. There was no escaping, leastways not until he’d said whatever it was he wanted to say.
“It shouldn’t have happened. More than that, it can’t happen again,” she said. “Forget about it.”
Kit smacked his lips together. “I can’t do that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Evie shuffled up against the amassed store of coal as Kit took a pace towards her. His hand snaked out and brushed lightly over the gentle waves of her hair. “There are things you don’t understand.” His voice took on a low, husky tone, a pitch that made her heartstrings vibrate and threatened to completely undo her. But there was too much at stake here to give in to such a tawdry feeling as lust. For god’s sake, it wasn’t as if he cared about her, he just knew how to work women to get what he wanted.
“You’re playing havoc with my relationship. I don’t want to lose Ross. I love him. This is too much stupid risk. I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea. I should have thought before flirting, but it’s going no further.”
He gave a huff of disbelief. “Do you expect me to just back off?” He clasped her shoulders and stroked his thumbs back and forth over her collarbones. “This isn’t as simple as not acting on attraction. Evie—us being together doesn’t have to impact badly on Ross. I’ve told you, things have been unusual between us in the past.”
“Fucking some girl together in a tent eight years ago doesn’t make this right, Kit. Don’t you think he’s going to feel betrayed? You’re his best mate. I’m his girlfriend.”
“That wasn’t what I was talking about.” Kit’s thumb nicked the underside of her chin. He stood close enough to her now that she could see the dark glint of his pupils and just about make out the even contours of his face. “Evie, Ross isn’t going to get hurt. Not by us being together at any rate. The parameters of what we both consider permissible are different to what other people accept.”
“I don’t know, Kit. You’re still talking about years ago.”
“No—I’m talking about right now.” His thumb slid across her parted lips.
Damn! It was hard to think clearly when he touched her like that, and the enveloping darkness concealed so much. Evie’s breathing hastened, her chest rising and falling with the urgency of her desire for his touch, and just to make it worse, something about the wrongness of them being together like this, made everything tingle all the more—her nose, her limbs, her nipples…and lower, the same prickle tormented her clit.
What if it were true, what if Ross truly wouldn’t mind? He certainly hadn’t batted an eyelid over her seeing his mate buck-naked, and he’d kind of involved Kit in their sex life that first night when he let Kit stand and watch.
Surely, Ross realized that she’d been reliving that scene over and over, replaying it with different endings. Maybe, he’d been doing the same. Maybe all this was building towards Ross asking her if Kit could join them.
“Evie,” Kit whispered again.
The sound of his voice reminded her of the sweet taste of his kisses. Fact was, she wanted him, plain and simple. She longed to feel the warmth of his body again, his length and hardness in her hand, as it had been earlier out upon the hillside, when he’d rubbed her towards bliss. Even now, her body hadn’t forgotten the explosion. How could it? He’d made her feel so high, she’d virtually been floating. There were few enough men in her life who’d made her feel good, let alone afforded her that much pleasure for so little short term reward.
She’d phoned Ross out of guilt and then sat through the meeting at Melton, flushed and aroused, desperately craving Kit’s touch again. When they’d paused for a break, she’d slipped away and frigged herself to orgasm in the store cupboard among the buckets and brooms, her supporting hand wrapped around the haft of the decrepit carpet sweeper for support.
“It’s okay,” Kit soothed. “It’s okay. I swear it. You’ll see.” His lips touched hers, simultaneously blotting out reality and flooding her body with hot expectation. “Trust me. It’s not going to be a problem.”
With that, his softness departed. Kit’s mouth crushed hers, his teeth bruising her lip. He slid his tongue into her mouth and she opened to him, letting him delve and tease until her senses were alight and she clung to his form. Kit kissed her with every inch of his body, not just his lips. His hips swayed against hers, his fingertips caressed her throat, the lengths of her arms, and her bottom. He took charge, but without forcing his will upon her. Kissing Kit reminded her of dancing, sometimes subtle, others raucous, but always in time with the beat.
His kiss changed everything and nothing.
“Kit, I can’t do this,” she protested as his tongue-tip dipped into the hollow at the base of her throat.
