Lip Lock

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Lip Lock Page 19

by Susanna Carr


  “Is there a point to this?” Molly asked as she quickly scrubbed the glass. She didn’t want the reminder. She especially didn’t want to hear the hint of pleasure in Glenn’s voice over the fact.

  “Not really,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, husky whisper, “but you’re always welcome at my place.”

  Wow. That was unexpected. Maybe Glenn was one of those friendly drunks who wouldn’t remember what he promised the next day. “Why would you…?” Wait a second. He was not making the offer out of the goodness of his heart. “What are you saying?”

  Glenn wiggled his eyebrows.

  Ew! “Are you suggesting that I have sex with you in exchange for a roof over my head?” What kind of woman did he think she was? Or how desperate, for that matter.

  “Yeah.” He leaned closer and she could smell the wine on his breath. “How ’bout it? You and me? Once we get back to the mainland?” He reached for her.

  Anger poured through her and she took a step back. “Don’t touch me,” she warned him.

  Glenn made another attempt to catch her. “Now—”

  She grabbed one of the glasses and held it up high. One more step and he was going to get clobbered. “Let me put it to you straight. I am never going to sleep with you. Ever.”

  “Hey,” Glenn straightened his shoulders proudly. “A girl like you—”

  Molly’s jaw locked. “A girl like me knows better.”

  “You think Kyle is going to make this engagement ‘official’?” He made air quotes and snorted. “You’re living in a dream world.”

  “Glenn, I don’t know how to make this any plainer.” She tilted the crystal up and down between her fingers. “I would rather starve and live on the street than sleep with you for my most basic necessities.”

  He squinted at her and then at the glass, as if the light catching on the crystal had a hypnotic effect. “So…that’s a…”

  Maybe she should just hit him with the crystal and knock some sense in him. “It’s a no.”

  Glenn’s upper lip curled. “Well, fine.” He slapped the dish towel on the counter. “You can just forget about me helping you wash the dishes.”

  “Gee, that hurts,” Molly muttered to his back as he stomped out of the kitchen. Now if only she could forget that in three days, she was going to be right back where she started. Out of a home, out of Kyle’s life, and out of luck.

  Kyle sat in front of the fireplace in his study, his feet propped on the ottoman. He looked over at where his computer rested on his desk and felt no urge to join it. Huh. Maybe he was coming down with something.

  He heard the soft tap on the door and looked around. Kyle masked his disappointment when he saw Darrell standing at the entrance. He had no reason to hope it would be Molly.

  “You have a minute?” Darrell asked.

  “Yeah, sure. Take a seat.” He motioned at the chair next to him. There was something about the hard edge in Darrell’s voice. “What’s up?”

  “How important is Glenn to this deal?” Darrell asked as he sat down.

  Kyle paused. It was an odd question. Glenn had his shortcomings, but negotiation wasn’t one of them. “He’s the chief financial officer—”

  “Yeah, I know.” Darrell leaned forward and perched on the edge of his chair. “But how important is he to this deal?”

  “You have a problem with Glenn?”

  “I don’t trust him,” Darrell said. “And I don’t want to enter a deal with him.”

  Kyle closed his eyes as he fought back the sense of dread. If Glenn made a move on Bridget he would castrate the man himself. “What did he do?”

  “He propositioned Molly.”

  Kyle’s feet hit the floor with a thud. “What?” He felt nauseous. Acid ate at his gut. He must have been in shock because the only thing he could think of was that Molly wasn’t blonde. Red-gold highlights didn’t count. “When?”

  “Just now.” Darrell jabbed his thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “While they were doing dishes.”

  He had thought Glenn’s offer to help with the dishes was strange. Had marked it down as a side effect of one too many drinks. “What did he say?” Kyle asked softly as his hands flexed into fists.

  “He said you were never going to make the engagement official”—Darrell studied Kyle for a long moment—“and that they could get together after this week was up.”

  Kyle made himself lean back in his chair. He stared at the flames, wondering how he could still breathe when it felt like someone punched a hole in his chest.

  He now had no doubt that Glenn screwed his ex-girlfriend in his office.

  Glenn was much shrewder than he gave him credit for. He knew the right moment to swoop in for Molly and what to offer. He had a fight on his hands.

  “She said no, of course.”

  “Who said?” Kyle asked. He felt like he was crawling through thick fog.

  “Molly. She turned him down flat.” Darrell sliced his hand through the air.

  “She did?” Hope, fragile and weak, began to bloom inside him. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I just came back from walking along the shore with Bridget. She heard the same thing.”

  “Did Molly see you?” She could have been playing her role, knowing she was being overheard.

  “No, she was too busy dodging Glenn and threatening him with a wineglass,” Darrell said with a small smile. “I could have jumped in, but Molly was handling herself just fine.”

  Kyle felt the corner of his mouth tug up. He could picture Molly brandishing the crystal. But he was afraid to believe that Molly said no. She was offered the one thing she needed. And she turned it down without hesitation.

  Darrell sighed as he rubbed his hand along his chin. “I know Glenn is one of the founding—”

  “He’s no longer a part of this deal,” Kyle quietly assured the man. “And his days at Ashton ImageWorks are numbered.”

  “Whoa.” Darrell reared back, holding his hands up. “Because of Molly?”

  “Among other reasons,” Kyle said, unwilling to discuss it. That was between Glenn and him. “But yeah. Molly is the deciding factor.”

  “Isn’t Glenn your friend?”

  Kyle shook his head. “Not if I can’t trust him around my woman.” He didn’t know when he started to align himself with Molly, but it didn’t matter. He trusted her more than his friend of over ten years.

  Darrell leaned back in his chair and stared at the fire. “I’m sorry I said anything.”

  “I’m not.” He had been loyal to the wrong person based on history, not on facts. “Thanks for telling me. Molly wouldn’t have.”

  “Why not?”

  “As a misguided attempt to protect me.” Or because she didn’t think he would believe her. He had a feeling it was the second choice, which bugged him. Kyle rose from his seat. “I better go check on her.”

  “Are you sure—”

  “I’m sure. Darrell, there’s one thing you need to learn about me. I protect what is mine. And Molly is most definitely mine.”

  “One more…” Molly muttered to herself as she filled the sink again. “One more plate and then you’re done.”

  She rubbed the bottom of her bare foot against her jeans-clad leg, but the ache didn’t go away. Molly knew she could let the dishes go until tomorrow, but that was just asking for more work.

  Anyway, best damn fiancées didn’t leave work undone. Molly grabbed the soap bottle, ignored how red her hands looked, and squirted the liquid soap into the water. Best damn fiancées didn’t let on that their feet hurt, shoulders ached, and that they would rather sleep than have wild jungle sex with their fiancés.

  She dumped the gilt-edged serving platter she had forgotten into the sink and saw a movement glinting off of the window in front of her. Molly glanced up and saw Kyle walk into the kitchen.

  Walk? Her eyes widened as he strode toward her. More like prowled. Dressed in jeans and a thin sweater, Kyle looked less like a computer tycoon and more like
a hunter.

  The soreness of her feet disappeared, replaced by the instinct to make a run for it. But before she considered the move, Kyle stood behind her.

  The shroud of tiredness slipped away. Her body was alert. Alive.

  He planted his hands on the edge of the chrome sink, his arms containing her.

  You know, she thought as she looked at his big hands, the excitement popping and fizzing in her veins, sleep is overrated…

  His solid chest pressed against her spine. Her bottom nestled against his hard pelvis as he trapped her.

  Molly swallowed, her throat feeling tight. And she never did have wild jungle sex, so she really couldn’t compare the two. Sex, yes. Maybe even wild sex. But wild jungle sex? Not even close.

  “Thanks for making everything special,” he said softly next to her ear.

  Molly parted her lips. He thought she…Oh, the dinner. He was talking about the holiday feast and her best Betty Crocker imitation.

  “You’re welcome.” She plunged her hands into the sink filled with bubbles. The hot water did nothing to dispel the tension swirling around her. She grabbed onto the serving platter as if her life depended on it.

  Molly froze when his hands found her waist. “Uh…” Her gaze darted to the window. Her heartbeat skittered as she watched Kyle’s dark head dip and he pressed his mouth on the curve of her throat.

  “Um…” Her eyelashes fluttered as thick desire dripped and settled deep in her hips. His warm mouth on her neck gave a savage kick to her bloodstream. Molly couldn’t resist turning her head to the side to catch his mouth with hers, but he wouldn’t cooperate.

  His hands dipped underneath her sweater. She shivered, her muscles contracting and twitching, as his hands spanned across her warm skin.

  Molly moved to face him, her lips tingling for his mouth, but Kyle held her still. “Stay where you are.”

  Why? She watched him cautiously in the reflection, her hands unmoving in the water, as he caressed her body underneath the sweater. She could see the outline of his hands roam her abdomen and chest. It ignited her imagination. Intensified her need.

  Kyle unclipped her flimsy bra and cupped her breasts with his big hands. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples furling tight from his possessive touch. Her knees locked as she tried to remain standing, and found herself heaving against his chest, thrusting her breasts deeper into his hold.

  He let go with one hand and bunched her sweater above her stomach. Molly’s eyes widened with alarm. “Kyle, no,” she whispered, scandalized. “We can’t.”

  “Everyone is upstairs,” he murmured in her ear. “Asleep.”

  “But…” She glanced up at the ceiling, wishing they had the house to themselves.

  “Take your sweater off,” he urged her.

  Molly hesitated. She was tempted. She wanted to know what it was like to make love to him, skin upon skin, free from clothes, from hiding, but…

  “For me.”

  The request did it. She didn’t know why, but she weakened at those two words. Kyle sensed her submission and his hands boldly swept the sweater from her body. Molly raised her arms up, globs of soap falling from her fingers as he dragged it off of her, along with her bra.

  The sweater landed on the floor with a soft thump. Molly trembled as she watched the reflection. She looked pale against him. Naked from the waist up, with nothing to shield her from his intense dark eyes.

  Her skin prickled as Kyle looked at her, but she didn’t want to cover up. She didn’t want to hide. He lowered his mouth against her shoulder and Molly’s hand slipped back into the soapy water.

  Kyle covered her breasts with his hands. He caught her nipple between his fingers and squeezed.

  Molly leaned her head against his shoulder as the wildfire licked her blood. She gripped the slick edge of the sink before she fell down from the intense pleasure.

  Kyle captured her earlobe between his teeth. He bit down just as he pinched one of her nipples. Molly moaned and quickly pressed her lips together as her voice echoed in the kitchen.

  “We should…” she began. Should what? Molly wondered dazedly, swiping her tongue along her lips. Stop? Get naked? Find a room with an actual door?

  “Shush,” Kyle whispered in her ear. She shivered as his warm breath caressed her skin. She closed her eyes and swallowed, all too aware of his hand trailing down her stomach and edging the waistband of her jeans.

  With quick, sharp moves, Kyle unsnapped her jeans. The hiss of her zipper seemed loud to her ears. She forgot all about it as he wrenched her jeans and panties off her hips and allowed them to drop.

  “Lift your leg.”

  She did without thinking. Kyle stepped on the jeans as she slid her foot from the denim.

  “Now the other.”

  She raised her leg and felt the last of her clothes kicked away. She stood there, between Kyle and the sink, naked. Her hands were submerged in the water, her legs bracketed his.

  He grasped her hips and pulled her against him. The sudden move had her sliding forward. She was up to her elbows in hot water. The tips of her breasts and the ends of her hair brushed against the tufts of bubbles. The rising steam wafted over her flushed skin.

  She felt his arousal through his jeans and her muscles clenched with anticipation. But she discovered she was more interested in his hand skimming down her pelvic bone before he cupped her sex.

  Molly bucked against his touch as he dipped into her core. She was surprised by her body’s silky, wet welcome.

  “Kyle…” She gasped from the mind-shattering pleasure as he thrust his fingers in and out. “Please…let me touch you.”

  He leaned over her, his thin sweater scratching her back, which glistened with sweat. She felt surrounded by him, but unable to touch him. It wasn’t fair. She couldn’t let it happen again.

  “Don’t you like this?”

  Was that a rhetorical question? “Yes-s-s…” Her breath hitched in her throat. “But I want…I want you.”

  Kyle slowly withdrew and stepped away. Molly thought she was going to sag to her knees from the loss of his strength, his touch, when he grasped her by her hips and turned her around. She was face-to-face with him and the look he gave her was dark and challenging.

  “Go ahead,” he said, his voice hoarse and ragged. “Touch me.”

  She wasn’t sure where she should start. Molly cupped his face with her wet, soap-flecked hands and kissed him. His lips were wide and firm as the stubble on his chin scratched her. Water dripped from his face, between their lips as they kissed.

  Kyle broke away and shucked off his sweater. He grabbed her hands and placed them on his shoulders. “Touch me,” he repeated.

  She obeyed, rubbing her damp hands over his chest and stomach as he kept his hands to his side. She felt his muscles bunch and flex under her slow explorations until she reached his belt buckle.

  She pulled at the strip of leather. The clink and hiss mingled with their choppy breathing and her heart pounding in her ears. She finally withdrew his penis and clamped her hand around him. Her hands shook as she followed his length from the dark pelt of hair to the weeping tip.

  “Okay, enough touching.” He pulled her against him and maneuvered her to the kitchen island. “I need you right now.”

  Molly went rigid. “No, not there,” she said and shook her head. No kitchen island. Ever. She’d rather lie on the cold tile floor.

  Kyle didn’t question it. He swung her around and her spine came into contact with something very hard and very cold. She tried to look behind her. The refrigerator? Please let there be no magnets.

  “Wrap your legs around my waist,” Kyle said as his hands cupped her bottom.

  She didn’t know if she had the strength, feeling soft and yielding as he slid her up the cold surface. She shivered as the tip of Kyle’s penis nudged her opening. Molly’s breath suspended as he surged inside her.

  “Kyle, I…” Molly’s eyelids drooped as he filled her completely. Her mouth sagged ope
n. Her toes curled as a brilliant white energy whooshed through her.

  She grabbed Kyle’s shoulders, her fingers biting into his skin as the power crackled and flared.

  “Oh, my…Kyle…”

  His thrusts grew stronger. Wilder. She bucked against each thrust as she felt him nuzzle his face against her neck. She couldn’t catch what he said with her blood roaring in her ears.

  “I…I…” Pulsing energy glowed hot between her hips. Sparked. Caught. She lit up, burning hot as he thrust into her, muffling his shout against her neck.

  “I love you, Kyle…” The words escaped from her before she could call them back. She felt Kyle tense and knew she had just ruined everything.

  Chapter 16

  Kyle stood at the French windows in the media room and watched Darrell and Bridget kayak out of sight. He glanced at the steel gray clouds that suited his mood, as did the cold, gusty wind. He didn’t know why he wasn’t outdoors, battling against the grim weather, other than the fact that Molly was staying inside.

  Molly. His chest pinched at the thought of her, his mind zooming to the moment he held her against the refrigerator and sank into her. Her wildness fed the primitive side of him, yet he had found a sense of peace at the same time. And then she said those four little words.

  I love you, Kyle.

  Shit. Why had she said that? Kyle rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands. Did she really believe that? Or was it one of those in-the-heat-of-the-moment deals? He had been buried deep inside her when she said it.

  But he didn’t want to disregard her words. And that was what bothered him the most. Not that she declared her love, but that he wanted those words to be true.

  Doubt niggled at him. What if they weren’t true? What if she had an ulterior motive behind those words? Molly was, after all, an accomplished liar.

  But she didn’t lie with her body, Kyle reminded himself as he turned away from the window. He knew that for a fact. She didn’t hide or fake anything last night as she bucked and twitched underneath him.

 

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