Chapter 14

COFFEE brEAK

14

Our kiss is frenzied, all-consuming, and overwhelming. The taste of him—hot and spicy—fills my senses. He entwines his fingers with mine and pins my hands above my head. In the dirt. I don't care.

I can savor the danger on his lips. I'm consumed by him. My body arches against his, craving more of him.

Killian groans as he deepens the kiss, his mouth battling with mine for dominance. I moan, feeling his weight press down harder, but not even close to quenching the fire in my core.

The sound of footsteps interrupts our kiss.

We've barely pulled apart when someone drawls, "Well, it looks like you folks are doing just fine." The sheriff scowls at us from under his cowboy hat. "But you'd better move this somewhere else before I arrest you both for public indecency."

Killian springs up and helps me off the ground, and I avoid meeting his gaze as I dust myself off.

"I'm going to need statements from both of you at the station," the sheriff continues. "But it can wait until tomorrow." He gives us another dubious once-over. "Are either of you in need of medical attention?"

Only if extreme embarrassment can be considered a health concern. I just shake my head no.

"Then move it along." The unimpressed officer makes a circular gesture with his arm.

Killian wraps me in a side hug as we make our way back to his truck, the heat from his body warming me on the chilly night. We keep quiet as we climb in, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

"Should I drive you home?" Killian asks once we merge on a larger road.

"Yes, please," I reply, even if I've no idea where "home" is. I barely saw the place before I was yanked back to reality last time.

Fifteen minutes later, Killian pulls up in front of a little cozy blue farmhouse and kills the engine.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. I don't want the night to end, but I'm not sure I'm brave enough to voice that thought out loud.

"Thanks for the ride," I blurt, and, at his weirded-out expression, I quickly add, "And for saving my life, I guess."

"Anytime, Sugar."

"So this is goodnight, then?"

That wicked grin again. "No goodnight kiss?"

I watch as Killian's eyes drop from my face to my lips. The tension builds between us, electric and undeniable. He leans forward and captures my mouth in a searing kiss, his hand tangling in my hair.

When he releases me, and patiently waits for me to exit the truck, I don't move. I want more of these kisses. And not just kisses if I'm being completely honest.

"Are you thirsty?" I blurt the first thing that pops into my head, remembering his innuendo of the other night. "I mean, do you want to come in for a cup of coffee or something?"

His smile turns feral. "Coffee, yeah, sure."

And I hope that by "coffee" he really means wild living-room-floor sex because we're both too horny to reach the bedroom.

But Killian follows me meekly inside the house, keeping a respectful distance. The front door is unlocked. Bands of criminals or not, this is still that kind of small town where no one ever locks their doors.

As I push the door open, I take in the narrow hall that ends in a flight of stairs and the two arched passages on each side, trying to orient myself.

The interior of the house is pretty in a country chic way with distressed wood finishes and vintage touches. In any other circumstance, I'd be thrilled to discover this is my home, but my mind is too consumed with thoughts of Killian to appreciate any of it.

Where's the kitchen? So that I can get that coffee started. Because, apparently, a late nightcap is why we're here. I walk under the arch on the right and enter the living room. I immediately backtrack, smashing into a rock-hard chest and almost falling on my butt.

Killian steadies me with two solid hands on my shoulders.

"Sorry," I say. "Kitchen's that way."

Killian arches a brow at me.

I shrug free and finally make it to the stove.

I open only two wrong cabinets before I find the coffee tin. The coffee maker looks suspiciously ancient, but maybe it'll add flavor to the blend?

"How do you take your coffee?" I call to Killian.

The air behind me shifts as he cages me in between the kitchen counter and his hard chest.

Cold fingers wrap gently around my throat from behind. Killian applies gentle pressure to tilt my head upward and backward. "I like my coffee long and dark." He drops a closed-mouth kiss on the side of my neck. "With just a splash of sugar."

Are we still talking drink preferences or have we moved on to sexual kinks?

"Th-that sounds i-interesting…" I trail off as the coffee tin explodes in my hands. Maybe I was squeezing too hard. The counter is a mess, dark-brown powder everywhere.

Killian removes the tin from my still-shaking hands and drops it next to the sink with a loud thud. "I'm not really here for coffee, Spoon."

Praise be!

While he's still caging me in from behind, his deft fingers find the collar of my shirt and rip it away from my throat. Buttons pop and fabric tears. A shiver of fear and excitement courses through my body, and when he pulls me tighter into him, other impulses battle within me—a primal and thrilling need to both stay and flee.

His fingers dig into my hip, and all preservation instincts fly out the window.

I drop my head back on his shoulder to give him better access to kiss me… and I suddenly blink awake.