Lorie O - Strong, Sleek and Sinful

“What do you want?”

“Open the damn door and let me in,” he growled.

It was tempting to spar with him, but she closed the door, slipped the chain free, and stepped out of the way when he pushed the door hard enough that it swung open. She grabbed it before it hit the wall, staying clear when he stalked into her home.

“What were you doing?”

“When?” She watched him when he stopped in the middle of her living room and turned to face her.

“Just now. When I knocked on the door.”

She was toying with him just a bit. It was so easy to do, and she kind of liked how she could make his eyes darken with her comments.

“What do you think I was doing?” she asked, turning from him and closing the door. “I was studying.”

“Where are your books?” he asked, his demanding tone pushing as he continued watching her, slowly crossing his arms. Apparently he had the night off, as he was still dressed in his T-shirt and jeans. God, he made simple clothing look deadly.

Kylie took her time answering, unwilling to spar with him full force. Already she felt the charge in the air, the sexual energy radiating off him. It was best to keep her head clear, stay focused on the fact that she quite possibly had just communicated with their killer. Although that would mean Perry was innocent, it also meant if her man was online right now, she needed to take this opportunity to get to know him.

“You heard me interview the girls. What else do you want to know?” she challenged, crossing her arms over her chest and watching Perry’s expression harden.

Perry walked toward her. If she didn’t move, he would have her cornered.

“I think you’re avoiding the answer to a simple question.” He grabbed her arm when she tried walking past him. “Where are your books?”

“I do most of my work on my computer,” she said honestly, and looked down at her arm. “Is there a reason you’re restraining me?”

His hand was large and his fingers long. His skin was tanner than hers. She watched his fingers wrap around her forearm and then his grip loosened and slid down to her wrist.

“This isn’t restraint, darling,” he drawled. “When I restrain you, you won’t be able to move.”

“That is what restraining means.” Kylie laughed, walking away from him and pulling her arm free as she headed toward her kitchen. Perry let go of her but followed when she walked around the open living room that turned into her small kitchen. “You haven’t told me why you’re here,” she said, keeping her back to him.

She grabbed a plastic cup from her cabinet and filled it with ice from the ice maker in her refrigerator. There hadn’t been time to grocery shop, so other than the leftovers from the pizza, of which all fit in one box and took up a shelf in her refrigerator, there wasn’t any food in her kitchen.

“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.