It was warm and wet and she tasted like honey. Everything fled from his head - why he was kissing her, why he shouldn't kiss her, who the hell he was.
His free hand covered one of hers and she relaxed her grip on the bar, their fingers entwining. He flexed his other hand against her scalp, burying it further in her silky, upswept hair. His heart slammed against his ribs and he pushed his tongue deeper, sliding against the roof of her mouth. She crowded closer.
Through half-closed eyes he saw the tip of her breast brush an iron rail and she moaned. Dylan shuddered, thrusting deep inside her mouth again, as her nipple rose hard and tight against the clinging fabric of her dress.
He lifted his mouth from hers and slid his hands to her waist. Her eyes were sleepy-sexy, her mouth swollen and rosy. Both of them were breathing hard. She had yards of creamy flesh, from collarbone to shoulder to cleavage. He'd never seen anything so pretty as the sight of Kitty's upper breasts rising over the low cut of her gown.
His erection surged against his jeans and he didn't second-guess another kiss. Nothing mattered but tasting her again. "Kitty," he said hoarsely against her mouth. She seemed to know what he was begging for, because she parted her lips and took him in. Her tongue stroked his once, the move so tentative he ached with the hesitance of it, but he forced himself to wait for her next one.
Her hands slid through the bars and grasped his shoulders. The touch rushed through him, along his arms, his torso, his legs, bolting him to the floor. She rose on tiptoe to reach his mouth more easily and he let her take control of the kiss, let her take him into her, that honey-rose taste of her mouth on his tongue, the smell of old wood and old history in his head.
Their mouths fused, melded by a heat that crept upward from the floor their ancestors had walked. Dylan's hands tightened on Kitty's small waist.
He hadn't had a kiss this good in ... forever.
They were both pressed against the cell bars, but he didn't feel them, didn't feel anything between them. He could only feel Kitty, the texture of her tongue, the warmth of her skin through her dress, the pounding of her pulse that had somehow become the pounding of his.
They were connected. By the past, by home, by...
By God. Dylan wrenched away.
"You're a witch," he said, releasing his hold on her. They couldn't be connected. They weren't.
Her hand was shaking as she lifted her fingers to touch her mouth. "W-what?"
He didn't make connections. He didn't want them. They weren't safe, they weren't for him, they were everything he avoided. And for God's sake, the last thing he wanted was to link himself to a woman from Hot Water. To Kitty Wilder, his wife.
"Is this part of your game?" he demanded.
She blinked, her eyes half dazed. "My game?"
Damn, she still looked so good. Beautiful, with her golden hair disheveled and her mouth wet and swollen from his. Panic raced through him and he ran his hands through his hair, hauling in long breaths to get another surge of lust under control. "This isn't going to happen," he said. "I won't let you."
She stared at him. That pouty, sexy mouth of hers worked, but no words came out. "You!" she finally said. Her fingers touched her mouth again. "Don't you dare try to rewrite recent history. You kissed me."
"Hah," he replied, worried like hell because his legs were still glued to the floor, keeping him so close that he could count the number of times her pulse beat in her throat.
Her upper lip curled. "'Hah'? All you can say is 'Hah'?"
He swallowed. "Hah." It was the best he could do. Her body quivered. He could tell she was getting mad, but he didn't know a way to stop it, or even if it was wise to do so.
"You kissed me," she said again.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to get his thoughts back in order. Or just plain back. "That might have been how it started, but - "
"But nothing." Her spine straightened and her blue eyes turned to blue fire. "Just because I'm dressed like this doesn't mean you can treat me like a ... like a..."
"That's not it," he ground out. "And yon know it."