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She had been kissed before, obviously. But... that... that wasn't a kiss; that was a... frigging soul sucking from her lips to his. No, wait. She shook her head. Everything was going wrong. She had to get back in control so she could think properly, but it felt impossible to do with her thighs slick with wetness.
She forced herself to remember what he had said, and his presumptuous demand was exactly the jolt she needed to renew her focus.
You're coming home with me.
Was he insane? She couldn't go with him to his home. Not now. She wasn't ready. She needed more time to re-fortify herself against him.
She tried to take her hand back from his warm and solid grasp but failed dismally. Stalling didn't help either. Besides, he'd probably just toss her over his shoulder if she so much as attempted to plant her feet into the ground. He seemed like that kind of man.
Overbearing. Controlling. Dictatorial.
It was time to stop this madness. Bracing herself to use her voice, she started off with a high pitch but continued, nonetheless.
“First of all, you had no right to scare that guy like that. And you had no right to ruin my friend’s dress, and...” She wanted to add that he had no right to kiss her like that, but of course, she had signed away that privilege, so she was a bit screwed there.
“And,” she continued, “I'm only supposed to move in tomorrow. You said that was okay. You can't go back on your word. We signed a contract. I'm not ready. I still have to pack and have someone water my plants, and... Marcy will be worried about me.”
“Text her and tell her you're with me. Someone is already scheduled to bring your things over tomorrow.” They had reached his car, and he opened the passenger door for her. “Get in.”
“Hmm... no. I don't think so, Mr. Unbearably Bossy. We have an ironclad contract, and it says I move in tomorrow. Like I said, I'm not ready. And you can’t have someone already scheduled to come to my apartment and move me out. I’ll get my own person.” Her own person was herself, but that didn’t change the fact that he thought he could just crash into her life and start ordering things around, and she would be okay with that.
Her words started to falter as he closed the distance between them. She pressed herself against his car, unable to handle any more physical contact from this man, not right now when she was still a hot mess.
“Get in the car,” he said. His nearness destroyed her. His height dominated her. His sheer power scared her. She whimpered as he gripped her hips and slid his thigh between her legs, an easier feat now that he had ripped through the material and given more leverage to the slit.
“Look, I just need some time, okay. So, if you could just go stand over there,” she tried to push into his chest while pointing to a spot behind him... “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, as previously arranged.”
“Are you worried, Kensley, that you won’t be able to resist me?”
Oh crap.
“What? As if. I can resist you just fine, thank you very much.”
“Is that why you’re wet?”
She swallowed, her mind racing to come up with a suitable retort. He didn’t actually touch her there to feel her wetness. His fingers had just roamed over her naked mons before he went all crazy growly on her.
“I’ll have you know I’m not.”
“Want me to prove you wrong?”
“Oh, shut up,” she grumbled, turned in the tight confines of his arms, and slipped into the passenger seat. She hated that he chuckled at her. “This is just to prove that you don’t scare me.” Her heart started doing tornadoes inside her chest.
Oh, hell, what if she was in over her head?
She tried to think back to the moment when she had lost her mind and her precious handle on things. Oh, it was definitely the moment she ran from him at the club.
Heck, she had no idea why she did that in the first place. Maybe it was the way he came at her—so suddenly, so lethally, so damn gloriously powerful, and sexy—that she felt defenseless and fled. In that precise moment, the sheer force of his possessive virility stunned her. She didn't know how to react. His dauntless masculinity and his possessiveness unhinged her, so she panicked and split.
Like an idiot.
And now she had to go home with him.
She took a deep breath as he slipped in beside her, his tall, muscular frame bearing a kind of deadly grace synonymous with a panther.
“Text your friend,” he ordered.
She wanted to say ‘no’ just to be contrary, but she had to let Marcy know what happened to her since Marcy had ordered her to stay in place and dance with the hot guy while she went to get more drinks.
