Page 61 of My Favorite Hero

“Yes.”

I lifted her hand to kiss her palm when I saw it. A ring of darkened skin around her wrist. I pulled her hand closer, inspecting it. “Who did this?” I looked up. “Did he do this?”

“Oh, um, he grabbed me when I tried to leave.”

I was on my feet in a second. “He laid hands on you? He bruised you?”

“It’s fine, Jesse. I bruise easily.”

“Do not try to lessen this.” I paced the room. “You don’t hurt women. Ever. It’s a rule I would never break. Ever. And he does that the first time you’re with him? Fucker!” I roared.

“Jesse, please.”

I shut my eyes, drawing in a calming breath. I moved fast. So fast, I startled her. One minute, I was standing, and the next, I was beside her on the bed, cupping her face. “You want to know the truth, Casey?”

“Yes?” she whispered, unsure.

“I’m drawn to you. I keep fighting it, but I can’t anymore. I dropped in to get wings on Saturday, and I was mesmerized by you. I followed you to the bathroom and waited. I wanted to kiss you so badly, I ached with it. I can’t stop thinking of you. Dreaming about you. Tonight, I came home, and your car wasn’t here. I drove to Dusty’s. But on my way, I saw your car at the Watering Hole, and I pulled in, worried when I saw you behind the wheel asleep. Terrified something was wrong.”

“I was just having a nap. I was going to walk home.”

“You should have called me.”

“I didn’t know I could. And I forgot my phone.”

“You can always call me. Okay?”

She nodded. Then she turned her head and kissed my palm. It was sweet and touching.

And turned me the fuck on.

But I remembered her words from a few minutes earlier.

“Do you still want me to kiss you?”

“Yes,” she replied breathlessly.

I bent and captured her mouth, still holding her face. She whimpered as our lips touched, wrapping her arms around my neck. I kissed her—learning the shape and feel of her mouth, then sliding my tongue along the seam for her to open.

Nothing prepared me for the sensation of really kissing Casey. I explored her, our tongues sliding together, dancing, thrusting, retreating. Tracing shapes and dipping deep. I reached under her, pulling her to my lap, holding her close, losing myself with her.

Her mouth was hot, sweet, and wet. She tasted of mint, the sharpness of the spritzer she’d drunk earlier lingering. I was overwhelmed with her scent while being this close to her. I fisted her hair, the silken tresses thick and smooth under my fingers. I held the nape of her neck, cupping her head and going deeper. Needing closer. Wanting more.

She gasped as I dragged my mouth across her cheek to her neck, licking and nipping at the soft skin. I sucked her earlobe between my teeth and bit down, making her shiver. She clung to my neck, then ran her hands over my shoulders and down my arms. “God, you’re so strong.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“I know.”

I captured her mouth again, lying back on the bed, her on top of me. I rolled, hovering over her, kissing more. I didn’t want to stop. She dug her fingernails into my back and wrapped her legs around my hips. I sank into the heat of her, my cock desperate and aching for her. We rolled again, her sitting on top, my dick nestled between her legs.

“You are so big.”

“We’ll fit perfectly,” I assured her. “I want you.”

She rolled her hips, and I groaned. I could feel her heat even through our clothing.

She bent and took my mouth, sliding her tongue in and twisting it with mine, making me ache with the simple act. She was effortlessly sexy. Something that idiot was too blind to see. I planned to let her know I saw it. I saw her. As often as I could.