Page 132 of Torrid Passion
He’s an icon.
“And you’re his granddaughter and you’re also Kieran O’Keeffe’s daughter,” I remind her.
“From your lips to God’s ears.”
“He’s listening.”
“Should I take that as an invitation?”
My lips touch her temple. “Yeah. Your cousins’ guesthouse is great, but it doesn’t offer this view.”
“You’d let me infiltrate your bachelor pad?”
“If I get to wake up with you curled up in my arms. It’s a small price to pay.”
She drops her glass on the railing, circles around so we're chest to chest. “Lochlan Berkshire that kind of talking goes straight to a girl’s head.”
“I meant it.”
She gets on her toes and reaches out for my cheeks. I lean into her and she plants her lips to mine. I let her kiss me at first before taking control. My urgency meets hers. Swiping my tongue along the seam of her lips, she opens for me. I ravish her mouth with my eager tongue. The taste of white wine comes off her tongue and I dive deeper. I drop my glass on the railing, wrap my hands around her waist and lift her up in my arms. She wraps her legs around me and I slide my hands underneath her bare ass and carry her back inside, using my back to open the sliding door.
“Why can’t we stay outside?” she complains with a moan.
“Beckett and Rod are my neighbors—”
“Rod is still in Miami. From Beckett’s reputation, I doubt he’s home alone on a Saturday night.”
She’s most likely right about Beckett.
“It’s a risk I don’t want to take,” I tell her. “And I have other neighbors.”
“So you never do anything crazy on your deck with the other women?”
“Other than my mom, my sister, my cousins and my cleaning lady, you’re the only woman who’s ever set foot inside my house.”
Her head jerks back in surprise. “Wow.”
“Yeah. I’ve never prepared a meal for a woman before either.”
“Oh.” Her eyes are as big as saucers.
“You’re breaking my bad boy ways, Kyla O’Keeffe.”
Her eyelashes flutter at me.
“Is that a good thing?” she asks. I detect a tinge of worry in her voice.
“Everything about you—about us—is good,” I tell her. “So to answer your question, yes.”
“I like knowing that,” she says.
“Now you have some power over me.”
“I like knowing that as well,” she says in a shy voice before wrapping her arms around me and nuzzling her nose against my neck.
I drop her to her feet when we enter the living room. Forget the bedroom. Why be predictable?
I lean forward, my lips capturing hers. “This isn’t Dark Compulsion—”
