His fire scorched her, ruffled her. She let out a squeak of surprise as he lifted her onto the kitchen counter and pushed himself between her legs. The crotch of his jeans fitted right into the apex of her thighs, and there was no mistaking the hot bulge packed into that denim.
Oh God, Kirk had a hard-on for her.
The thought sent her head spinning. For so long she’d dreamed about kissing Kirk, but she couldn’t have anticipated the force of his passion. His heat rolled over her like a brush fire, setting a thousand spots alight in her body. She was helpless against the seduction of his mouth, his hands, his body pinning her to the counter.
He pushed up her flimsy tank top, his hand closing urgently around her bare breast, causing her to gasp with pleasure. Then, he slowed down, his movements unhurried as he cupped and squeezed her, his thumb brushing back and forth across her nipple until she had to bite her lip to stop herself from screaming.
“Go on.” His husky breath urged her on. “Let it out. Let me hear you moan, Cassie.”
His words were as potent as his touch. She writhed in his hold, completely at the mercy of her desire, a gratified whimper trembling from her lips. Dipping his head over her, he brushed his lips across her mouth, keeping in time with the rhythm of his thumb grazing her nipple, soft and rough, rough and soft, until she was delirious and in danger of hyperventilating.
Through her daze, she felt his groin pressing up against hers and his free hand gliding up and over her thigh. How did he know how to touch her for maximum pleasure? The firm stroke of his palm melted her, all her desires concentrating into the tight, white-hot spot in her core.
His hand slid higher, beneath the frayed hem of her denim shorts. Her breathing short-circuited. Sensations swirled around her—the coolness of the kitchen counter beneath her, the fire of his body above her, the scent of grilled steak lingering in the air, the taste of his body on her lips, the rasp of his breathing.
With unerring precision, his hand moved higher under her shorts, his fingers pushing aside her panties, seeking her swollen folds. She was wet through, she knew, drenched with lust, and this time there was no hiding it. Kirk grunted, as if gratified by what he found, his body rigid as he stroked her, pleasured her. He pressed one finger into her entrance and circulated her wetness over her dilated clitoris, sending her into nirvana. She heard herself gasping, panting, felt herself arching, spreading her legs wider, helplessly addicted to his expertise. Giddy colors spun through her mind, heat spread through her thighs, heavy and languorous. The sound of her pounding heart filled her head.
The chink of metal brought her back to reality. Kirk had reached for his belt, she realized. He was unbuckling it, one-handed, the other hand still between her thighs, fingers slipping back and forth across her slick entrance. The flushed intent in his face crashed through her delirium.
Oh my God. Kirk was going to drop his jeans and take her right here, right now on the kitchen counter.
He had the belt unbuckled. He reached for the buttons of her shorts. She gazed up at him, powerless to resist the tsunami carrying her away, trusting him with everything she had. Hoping she wouldn’t be a disappointment to him.
As his hand slid over her belly, he paused, staring down at her. He frowned, and her stomach wiggled with unease, an unease that spiked when he slowly drew both hands away from her.
“We should stop,” he said, tension vibrating in his voice.
“S-stop?” She pushed a strand of hair away from her eyes.
He refastened his belt. “You’re too damn tempting, Cassie.”
That wasn’t what she wanted to hear, not when he’d withdrawn from her a moment ago. Confused, she pushed herself off the kitchen counter, embarrassment growing when she saw how mussed up she was. Her tank top was half off, her shorts were hanging off her hips, and God knew what her face revealed.
He reached out and straightened her tank top. “I’m sorry, Cassie,” he said. “I didn’t mean to go that far.”
One minute he had a hand under her panties, the next he was fixing her clothes like she was a child. She shook her head as she fumbled with the buttons of her shorts. “I don’t understand. What did you mean, then, when you took off my sweater?”
“I wasn’t thinking, was I?” Kirk scooped up his T-shirt from the tiles and tugged it over his torso. “I only meant to kiss you. Going further than that—well, that’s a whole different ball game.” He eyed her closely. “Don’t you agree?”
She didn’t know what to think, especially when her body was still humming from his caresses and her need for him showed no signs of abating. But she couldn’t lose her cool in front of Kirk. Whatever happened, it was imperative that right this moment she didn’t do or say something impulsive, like blurt out she’d been dreaming of his kisses for years, and making love with him would be out of this world. No, she couldn’t say anything like that—it wasn’t “making love,” either, but just plain old sex, and it was obvious he didn’t want that with her, either.
“I suppose you have a point.” She finger-combed her hair, wiped the moisture from her upper lip. “I’m still in recovery. Don’t want to sell myself short by jumping into bed with the first man who kisses me.”
That made him scowl a little. A meager satisfaction compared to the confused disappointment battering inside her.
“You trying to tease me now? I’m looking out for you, Cassie. As your friend.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly self-conscious of her bra-less state now that Kirk had said “thanks, but no thanks.” But though his withdrawal stung, a part of her was grateful for his care of her. A lesser man would’ve taken her without a second thought, but Kirk valued her and their friendship. She shouldn’t underestimate that.
“You’re right.” Sighing, she moved away to collect the sweater that Kirk had flung clear across the kitchen. “It’s a good thing I’m going away for the weekend, huh? You probably want some time to yourself.”
“I don’t know about that.” He waited at the doorway for her, a frown still lingering on his brow. “Are you looking forward to this bachelorette party?”
She lifted her shoulders. “Hey, I believe there’ll be a male stripper or two. Can’t be all that bad.”
A spark of pique flashed in Kirk’s eyes, gone before she could blink. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
The shiver that rolled down her spine told her there was no fear of that. Channing Tatum could do his Magic Mike dance in front of her, and he wouldn’t do diddly squat for her. Only Kirk had the magic, the alchemy that had captivated her from the first day she met him. She’d struggled hard to free herself, and she’d thought she’d reached a happy medium. But one kiss from him and she forgot everything.
She was lucky he’d drawn back at the last moment tonight, because if he hadn’t, if he’d taken her, then she’d be even more hopelessly ensnared, and the heartbreak she invited would be a thousand times greater.
Chapter Six
Heaving a silent sigh of relief, Kirk rose to his feet and applauded as the Giants won the game ten to two. Ordinarily, he enjoyed going to a baseball game, but the last three hours had dragged at a snail’s pace as he mingled with Hank Parnell and his other guests, all the while trying not to wonder what Cassie was up to in Carmel. But his relief was short-lived. As Kirk made his way into the hospitality suite from the outdoor balcony, Hank shuffled over, his beefy face ruddy from the beers he’d consumed.
“Kirk! My man. Have another brewsky.”
Kirk kept his face neutral. “I’ll have to take a rain check on that. I’m driving.”
“You’re not leaving already, are you?”
“Afraid so.” Kirk tilted his head at the scoreboard. “The game was great. Thanks for inviting me.”
“But we haven’t had time to talk,” Hank protested as he signaled to someone behind Kirk. “Hey, Shawna, we can’t let Kirk go yet.”
Kirk bit back a groan as Shawna appeared. Now that she thought Cassie was his girlfriend, she hadn’t come onto him so strongly, but she’d still stuck to his side, making inane conversation. A couple of times he’d caught a hint of annoyance in her, as if she was determined to seize his attention or die trying. Maybe this was her way of showing her daddy she could do business, but it didn’t work on Kirk. Now, she laid her fingers on his forearm as if she was going to physically restrain him from leaving.
“Oh, Kirk.” She pouted. “You’re not going, are you?”
She had too much makeup, too much perfume, too much artifice. He needed to fill his lungs with cold air, needed to rest his eyes on someone fresh and natural. He needed Cassie. Needed to see her as soon as possible.
“I’m sorry”—he tried to sound apologetic—“but I have another engagement to get to.”
“Can’t you cancel it?” Hank thrust out his jaw, looking like a pugnacious bulldog. “There’s another room that-a-way. We can talk about the deal in private.”
Kirk hadn’t expected to discuss business at the game. This was more a chance to grease the wheels, to eye the other man and decide on his worth. But it seemed his desire for an early departure had spurred Hank into action. For a few moments Kirk weighed his decision. Hank Parnell had been stalling on the deal, probably hoping to drag it out to get better terms for himself, so maybe this was Kirk’s opportunity to stitch it up. But did he really want to do that? Decisions made after a rowdy baseball game and several rounds of beers were rarely sound. And besides, he sure as hell didn’t want to hang around here when every instinct he possessed was telling him to go find Cassie.