She’s not going to hang
waiting forever.
Nikki’s words were still echoing in his mind as
he climbed out of the Blazer hours later, his body pleasantly
tired, his lower back stiff but not on fire.
A chance with her? Hell, he wanted more
than a chance. He wanted everything and all of it
with her. Dylan rarely slept a night when he didn’t dream
of her, think of that long, pale body and ache to feel it
against him. A single kiss with her, years earlier, had
haunted him more than entire nights spent with other women.
Hell, that one kiss was more fulfilling than any other
encounter—up until last night.
Sometimes he felt like he had spent his entire
life just waiting to touch her again.
But touching her wasn’t enough.
He was flat out in love with her, and suspected
he had been from the time he had looked into those cool green
eyes when she had strolled up to their apartment when he had
been all of fifteen years old. Although if anybody had
ever told him that he would have snarled at him. Love at
first sight was something that belonged in fairy tales, and
happy ending wasn’t something he was looking for.
That didn’t mean he didn’t secretly hope for one.
Kris was out on the porch, her laptop on her lap,
her long legs up, ankles propped on the railing, crossed neatly.
She met his eyes over the distance and colored hotly before
lowering her emerald eyes back to the screen.
Raintree glanced up from his perch at the other
end of the porch, took one look at Dylan and disappeared with a
mischievous grin.
Dylan didn’t even spare him a glance as he
studied Kris’ face, as her eyes lifted and met his, a flush
rising to her cheeks. He felt his cock swell and his lids
drooped. The temperature of his blood seemed to shoot up
about thirty degrees and his hands closed into fists. He
could hardly think when he got this close to her, just barely
able to keep her from seeing what was raging inside him.
You’re good enough for anybody…damn
it, he wanted that woman.
And not just for one damn night.
And it wasn’t just her body he wanted. He
wanted
her. He wanted the stubborn arrogant proud woman that
was crazy enough to track down an unknown nineteen-year-old kid
from Kentucky and turn her into one of the best selling fantasy
writers in the country. He wanted the softhearted woman
who stood by his sister as Nikki’s world fell apart around her.
All of her. Dylan wanted all of Kris, from
her long deep red hair to the soles of her feet and every
smooth, pale inch in between all intricacies of her complicated
soul and sweet heart that she hid behind that sophisticated
exterior.
He had wanted her since he was a mouthy punk
running wild in west Louisville. Her cool smile and
appraising green eyes had driven him crazy for years.
He had seen all sorts of emotions in her eyes,
everything from approval, to anger, to disdain, and disgust.
But he hadn’t ever seen that disgust in her eyes when she looked
at him. Usually there was no emotion, just a cool, blank
wall of emerald green.
Why?
Her taste, the silk of her hair in his hands had
haunted him for years. After last night, Dylan knew how
she moaned and whimpered as she came, how wet the folds of her
sex were under his fingertips while he touched her, and how
easily she was primed once he started to touch her.
Sweet hell…
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