Page 15 of Inarticulate

His body sank into her back and he placed a hand over her mouth. She was nervous, scared, yet horribly, achingly aroused. Her heart was hammering, her pulse echoing in her ears, and all the while, the hardness of his chest resting against her was far too enjoyable for words.

She clung to his wrist that hovered near her face and moved with him as he leaned forward, inserting the key into the lock. There was a twist and a push, then the door was ajar, the pitch black of inside looming frighteningly close.

She shook her head.Nope.Not going in there.

The heat of his breath tickled her neck, and his scent filled her lungs. Her breathing grew heavier, faster, then his nose nuzzled gently below her ear and she was lost. Sensations overwhelmed her. Desire constricted her chest.

Her world was condensed to him and her. The two of them—the grip of his hand over her mouth, the hardness of an unmistakable erection against her ass, the palpitations of her heart as she fought not to turn in his arms.

His hips bucked and she stumbled over the threshold, the heavy clunk of her heels echoing loudly against the tiled floor.

She froze.

He froze.

He pressed his hand tighter over her mouth and she stopped breathing altogether. She was caught between the temptation of pleasure and the possibility of a criminal record. His fingers drifted away from her lips and his body heat descended, from her back to her ass then her legs. He crouched behind her, his palm sweeping over her calf, down to her ankle.

She closed her eyes and bit the inside of her mouth, tasting the coppery tang of blood. He gripped the back of her heel and yanked, dislodging her boot, then pulled it off completely. Her sock covered toes were guided to the tile before his hands fell upon her other leg, going through the same motions.

As he stood, he closed the door behind them, securing her fate. He wove a hand around her waist and kept the other on her hip, cocooning her in arousal. There was nowhere to go but where he desired. Nowhere to run if it meant she wouldn’t be in his arms. She slid forward, measuring her steps, ensuring she didn’t make a sound.

“I don’t know where I’m going,” she whispered so low she wasn’t sure he could hear.

There were doors to her left, an archway to her right, every avenue leading into more darkness. Her surroundings slowly crept into her consciousness—the warmth of indoor heating, the high ceilings, the smooth tiles, and the total silence apart from their breathing.

Keenan tightened his grip around her waist, forcing a gasp from her throat as he directed her into a small alcove. Moonlight seeped in from an adjoining room. A bathroom. She looked around the space surrounding her, noticing a basin to her left, a hand towel on an elegant metal hook, and another door up ahead.

He gestured forward, toward the closed door. It felt like a trap, like wherever he was leading was a dead end. She twisted in his arms, facing him, trying to read his eyes. Her heart began to pound, throb, pulse in her ears with incessant force.

“Keenan…” She was an idiot. An overstimulated and sex starved idiot. “Please don’t tell me you broke into a house just so I could use the bathroom.”

His slowly building grin said it all. He was insane. Intriguing, arousing, and clearly mentally unstable. He stretched around her, the squeak of a turning doorknob making the lust dilute from her system.

She’d had this all wrong. She’d mistaken his psychotic interest as a prelude to sex.

Evidently, there would be no bumping of private parts…only a bathroom break.Idiot.

Her shoulders slumped as he straightened, the tiny glimmer of his grin still in place.

“I’ll use the bathroom,” she grumbled. “But I still don’t appreciate that my first criminal act will involve urinating in an unauthorized area.”

His silent laughter taunted her. She turned, her chest heavy with disappointment, and walked toward the small room. One step, two step, three step, fo— His arm slid around her waist and he swung her around to face him. He was upon her in a heartbeat, thigh to thigh, waist to waist.

He loomed over her, his eyes dark and menacing, his features tight.

Fear collided with the needy plea from every erogenous zone in her body. She wanted him more than she wanted a clean police record. More than her next breath. More than her sanity. Yet she knew nothing about him, and what she did know involved trespassing and what seemed to be a complicated relationship with Penny.

“You’re a confusing man,” she murmured.

There was a flash of a smile, a glimmer of a dimple, then his mouth was upon hers, stealing the oxygen from her lungs and replacing it with scorching flames. He was a puppeteer, pulling her strings with precision, his lips working hers in confident and entirely unapologetic strokes.

She whimpered, begging for more as she placed her hands on his shoulders and clung tight. Why had she ever wanted words from him? His kiss said it all. It answered all her questions and confirmed the mutual attraction.

Then just as quickly as pleasure engulfed her, he stepped back, breaking the connection with brutal force. They panted into the silence, their chests heaving, her palms sweating.

“Keenan—”

He placed a finger to his lips and quirked his head, listening as he focused over his shoulder.

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