“This is why, orchid,” he said, just before his mouth slammed onto mine. My head would’ve hit the wall with the force of his kiss if he hadn’t been holding my head.
Any thought of resisting eradicated as his mouth claimed mine, roaming, searching and reigniting something that had been sampled but not fully discovered eleven years ago.
His grip on my hair tightened almost painfully, and I moaned into his mouth. Not because I didn’t like it, but because I did.
Killian’s solid thigh gently eased mine apart, and he pressed it against my sex.
This wasn’t a boy kissing me for the first time. He was all man, and there was no question he controlled everything about it.
Come to think of it, he had then too, but back then I had nothing to compare his kiss to. Now I did, and no man had ever kissed me like this.
I sagged into him, hands on his chest, fingers curling into his tailored shirt. His hand slid down my side, one rib at a time until it settled on my waist, fingers tight as if to let me know that I wasn’t moving until he said so.
His swollen cock pushed up against my belly, and a parade of heated sparks danced across my skin.
Oh, God, I wanted him inside me.
I wanted to feel every inch of him.
Have him call me orchid as he thrust into me again and again and then watch his face as he came. And then I wanted to memorize every inch of his body. Trace his tattoos with the tips of my fingers. Put my mouth around his cock and…
Christ. What was I thinking?
He was distracting me from what I really needed, and that was a job dancing. A job I was desperate for as I really didn’t want to wait tables for shitty tips at an all-night diner like my mom.
But it was Killian who ended the kiss first.
“That’s why,” he stated, then spun on his heel, walked to the door and opened it.
A first kiss that changed everything.
Killian Kane. He was the most feared guy in high school. Guarded. Angry. A fighter. But when I caught him watching me with his captivating green eyes, I saw something more. Something protective and kind. He warned me to stay away from him. I did. Until I didn't, and he kissed me. A knee-weakening, body-tingling kiss that left me breathless. And scared the hell out of me. And then...he warned me never to come near him again, or next time he wouldn't let me go.
That was 11 years ago. We aren't teenagers anymore. He has probably forgotten me. He's a famous rock star now. I'm a dance instructor with a broken dream and desperate for a job. So, when we cross paths again I don't expect him to remember me. He does. And his warning 11 years ago? I'm about to find out exactly what that meant.
When she isn't writing, she can be found sitting in a field reading with her dogs at her side while her horses graze nearby. She loves interacting with her readers and chatting about her addiction—books.
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