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“What are you going to do if I kiss you, Red?”
“Don’t do it,” I warned him.
No matter how much my body was clamoring for Dylan’s touch, I wasn’t about to let this asshole manhandle me like he’d done with countless women before me. Dylan Lancaster was playing with me. I was simply his…entertainment.
He grinned, and the action lit up his entire face. “Now that sounds like a challenge,” he said.
I pushed against his chest. “It’s not,” I snapped.
My entire body tightened as his mouth landed on mine, and his lips coaxed me to respond.
For a moment, I couldn’t fight the attraction, and I opened, allowing Dylan’s lazy but thorough exploration.
My arms snaked around his neck, and I answered every blatant caress of his tongue.
He teased.
He tempted.
He tantalized.
And oh, my God, the man could provoke a reaction from an inanimate object with a kiss as sinful as his.
Kylie! What the fuck are you doing? He’s a male slut, and you know it!
I squeaked as I tried to move away from temptation by turning my head, and breaking lip contact. “Let go of me.”
Dylan’s body stayed exactly where it was, and he tried to connect our mouths again.
If he doesn’t move, I’m screwed. I’d let myself get sucked right back under his spell again.
So I did what I’d already thought about doing earlier.
My knee came up in a quick motion of desperation, and connected directly with my target.
“Fuck!” Dylan let out a groan as he let me go. “Bloody hell! Why did you do that?”
I scrambled away from the wall and moved until there was nothing behind me but air. I watched Dylan as he clung to his family jewels and sucked air in and out of his lungs like it was the most difficult task he’d ever done.
“I told you to let go.” Honestly, I did feel a little bit guilty. I had led him on. A little. Not on purpose, but my hormones had gone from zero to overdrive in less than a second when he’d kissed me.
It had taken my brain a little longer to catch up.
“You wanted that as much as I did,” Dylan accused.
“You caught me off guard,” I argued. “And then I remembered that you were a man-whore, and I definitely didn’t want it. I didn’t knee you that hard. It could have been worse. You’re still a baritone.”
Dylan’s breathing evened out, but his hand was still protectively holding his junk. “I don’t give a fuck who you are—leave this house. Now.”
I shook my head. “Not happening, big guy. We never really got around to introductions, but I’m Kylie Hart. My best friend is going to be marrying your brother in approximately six weeks. I’m here to make sure nothing goes wrong, and there’s no more negative press, here or in the UK, before that happens. Damian and Nicole deserve this time stress-free to plan their wedding, and spend some quality time together without having to put out fires that you create.”
“I’m not planning on raining on their parade,” Dylan grumbled.
I beamed at him. “Good. Then we’ll get along fine.”
Dylan grimaced as he stroked his crotch like he was trying to decide whether or not I broke something vital before he said, “I don’t need a goddamn companion.”
“Oh, I’m not planning on being your companion, Dylan.” I reached down to scoop up Jake. “In six weeks’ time, you’re going to clean up your act, and then you’ll fly back to London for the wedding. After that, I don’t give a damn what you do because Damian and Nic will be on their honeymoon.”
