“I’ve got enough complications just with my day to day life, Luke. I’ve got a bad feeling you’re a complication I don’t need.”
“Actually,” he murmured, catching her hand and lifted it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the inside of her palm and watched her from under his lashes. “I think I’m exactly the kind of complication you do need.”
A slow, almost reluctant smile curved her lips. “You’re pretty damn full of yourself,” she said quietly.
Luke shrugged. “Not so much. I just know what I see. You’ve got sad eyes, Devon. You look like a woman who spends way too much time alone. You look like a woman who doesn’t smile enough. Whatever is complicating your life, it isn’t making you happy.”
She eased away and the caution he’d been waiting for finally appeared, darkening her eyes. “Complications aren’t there to make you happy.”
“The good ones should. Not every complication has to be the bad kind,” he murmured. Some of her hair had slipped free from her clip and Luke reached up, caught one thick lock. It was every bit as soft as he’d thought it would be and it curled around his fingers. He wanted to pull that clip out of her hair and see all those long curls fall around her shoulders and her back-wanted to see her naked with all that hair spread out on his pillow. But he just rubbed the curl between his fingers and watched her face. “Sometimes the best things in life come from complications.”
“Really?” Devon asked, smirking. “All the complications I’ve had in my life had pretty much sucked. I haven’t yet had one bring me much of anything but trouble or grief.” Her voice was flat and vacant, her eyes little more than a void.
His heart clenched inside his chest. “Then give me a chance to show just how much fun a complication can be,” he said, keeping his voice light and easy. “Let me show you I’m really not an asshole.”
It was sheer stupidity that made her agree. It had to be. Because Devon couldn’t think of any other reason she would grudgingly say okay. Or any other reason she’d give him her phone number.
She started digging in her purse, looking for the black day planner she carried around for notes, reminders and her million appointments. But it wasn’t in there. Weird… That organizer went everywhere with her. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she said, “I can’t find anything to write on. You got a piece of paper?”
“No. But I don’t need it. Just tell me.”
Feeling just a little snarky, she thought spitefully, That works. With any luck, you’ll lose it. But as she repeated her number, she had a feeling she’d be hearing from him.
Yet as disgruntled as she was, when he dipped his head to kiss her again, she felt her heart skip a beat or two. When he traced the outline of her lips with his tongue, it skipped a few more beats. As Luke deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth over hers and pushing his tongue inside her mouth, she thought her heart just might stop altogether.
Then he put his hands on her. Gently. One resting on the curve of her waist, the other cupping the back of her head and her heart went into overtime, slamming away merrily within her chest. The taste of him, the feel of him, the strength and the warmth…damn, she’d gone so many years without this and never thought she was missing out on all that much.
She’d been wrong.
Easing a little closer, she opened her mouth a little wider and leaned into him. His body was long, muscled and lanky. Restless, she circled her hips against his. Something powerful, demanding, moved through her. She dug her fingers into his arms-
And then he was gone, pulling away so abruptly, she wobbled a little, hot, hungry and off balance. Her head buzzed from the heat of him, the taste of him. Blinking, she looked at him.
He reached up, brushed his fingers over her lips and then turned her around, nudged her to her car. “I’ll call you,” he murmured against her ear.
A little dazed, she climbed into her car and ending up sitting there for a good five minutes. Devon might have sat there even longer if she hadn’t glanced out the window and saw him standing under a streetlight five feet away, watching her.
Shoving her key into the ignition, she started the car and pulled away without looking at him again. Of course, it didn’t matter if she looked at him again or not-the sight of him, how he’d looked at her, his eyes hungry, intent, it was imprinted on her memory.
Just like the taste of him.
Just like the feel of him.
“A complication…” She mumbled as she hit the highway and headed home.
You can read another excerpt at my site.