“Are you telling me Killian Cross is on his way here right now?”

She bites her lip and nods reluctantly.

“Exactly how many times has Cross asked you out?” I ask.

She wrings her hands together. “Twice. And it’s been months. We’re just good friends, not that it’s any of your business.”

I see red. “Not my fucking business? Are you high? Everything about you is my business.”

She backs up but it’s too late. In two steps I’m on her. I pull her to me and slam my mouth down on hers.

Instead of fighting it, her arms wrap around me. I fist her hair, and she gasps, giving me what I need to slide my tongue home. I bring her even closer, and she melts into me.

I pour everything I have into the kiss. If she won’t believe it when I tell her she’s mine, I’ll fucking show her and leave no room for doubt.

I’ve been waiting for this moment for two years, and all my frustration comes through. She moans into my mouth which spurs me on. I thought our first kiss couldn’t be beat, but this one blows it out of the water.

This kiss is everything. Heaven and hell, want and need, every ounce of my being focused on the slide of her tongue. I slow it down until our lips separate. I run my nose along hers then drop my hand down to her lower back and bury my face in her hair.

“This is why you’re my business. This proves you want me as much as I want you. Face it. You’re mine, and I’m fucking yours. Always have been. Always will be.”

I lean in and kiss the side of her lips. “Give us a chance, Beautiful. It’s going to work out. I promise.”

Her entire face softens, and I think I have her. But then she blinks, and I see naked fear flash in her eyes right before she shuts down.

Fucking hell.

I give her a squeeze and pull her inside, heading straight to the couch.

“What are you doing?” she asks, confusion in her voice.

“Starting another movie.”

She stares at me for a minute, her mouth opening and then closing again.

I almost laugh but know that won’t go over well. She finally relaxes and settles into me. My dick immediately takes notice, so I run multiplication tables in my head to settle it down.

No matter how much that kiss affected me or how good she feels in my arms, I’m still not going there until after the funeral.

After that, all bets are off. I don’t care how much she fights me; she’s coming home to where she belongs. With me.

http://mybook.to/WhiskeyHome6