Rogue Devil (The Rourkes #11) - Kylie Gilmore Page 0,32

me, boxing me in. My smile drops, my breath stuttering out. He’s suddenly so close, the heat of him making my pulse race, my body flushing in excitement.

Then I notice his arm is raised. He’s holding the small carton of heavy cream right over my head.

“Don’t you dare!” I grab his arm, and he wobbles it threateningly.

“Careful. You’re gonna make it spill.”

I think quick and grab a nearby wooden spoon, giving his ass a light swat.

He gasps and sets the cream down. “Did you just spank me?”

I laugh. “No.”

“Oh, it is on.” He wrestles the spoon out of my grip, and I make a run for it, grabbing a throw pillow from his sofa as a shield and running with it against my butt.

He chases me, but I’m nimble and dodge him, running around the coffee table and weaving around a giant recliner. He lunges right, and I go left. Next thing I know we’re running in a circle around the coffee table. He fakes a turn, and I run smack into him, drop the pillow, and stumble back over it.

He catches me before I can fall, his arms wrapped around me. His voice is husky, his gaze eating me up. “You’re trouble.”

I can’t help myself. I reach up and stroke his short beard, tracing the line of his strong jaw. He swallows visibly. “You’re the one who’s trouble.”

His big hand cups the back of my neck. Desire pools low in my belly.

A beat passes in shimmering silence before his mouth covers mine. I tilt my head, deepening the kiss. Heat floods me as he takes over the kiss. I’m nearly dizzy with lust and shocked at the intensity.

He breaks the kiss suddenly and pulls away. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

My stomach drops. “Because of the woman you were with last night?” I blurt.

He stares at the floor for a long moment. “Yeah.”

My lips tingle. I can still taste him.

He turns and walks back to the kitchen. “Back to work, party girl.”

I follow on shaky legs. The attraction is mutual. My mind whirls for a moment before settling on a hard truth—that’s the second time he rejected me. I square my shoulders. I won’t let there be a third. Especially knowing he’s seeing another woman.

9

Brendan

So much for boundaries. I screwed up. I was just messing around with her. Ah, hell. I want her so bad it’s impossible to keep my distance for long. I don’t know why I’m so into her. Maybe it’s because I know she doesn’t want serious, so the pressure’s off. Somehow that lets her slip in closer than I’d normally allow. I know she’s meant for great things, and I’ll just be holding her back, but all that seems to go out the window when I’m close to her. Not even family fallout or her psycho ex can put a damper on this thing between us.

I watch as she scoops tortellini in cream sauce onto her plate. Her back is to me while she stands at the stove, so I look my fill. She’s petite, her shoulders narrow, her waist narrow, the flare of her hips highlighting a heart-shaped ass in formfitting jeans. I just want to scoop her up and carry her to the bedroom. Something about her size brings out the Neanderthal in me. It’s so damn hard not to cross the line.

She looks at me over her shoulder. “Do you want me to scoop some on your plate, or do you want to do it yourself?”

“I got it.” I walk around the half-wall counter, where I normally eat. The stools are back in their usual place for our meal.

She passes me, carrying her plate, careful to keep her distance around me. I know why too. That kiss was electric. It took all of my willpower to step away.

“I’ll wait for you so we can try it at the exact same time,” she says from her seat at the counter.

“Okay.” I scoop a generous helping on my plate and join her. “Ready.”

We both stab a piece and take a bite. It’s good. Surprisingly good.

“Wow,” she says, scooping another tortellini off her plate. “This came out better than I thought from us two cooking newbies. It really makes a difference to make the pasta from scratch.”

“Not bad.” I take a mouthful of tortellini and chew. I thought Beast was a master chef, but look at us making this awesome meal.

We eat in blissful silence for a few minutes. I can hardly believe I cooked something