Page 86 of Delinquent Daddy (Banks/Kincaid Family 2)

"I can't stay away from you. Why can't I stay away from you?" he rasped, burying all ten fingers in her hair. "God, I want you."

Her eyes fluttered open. She was kissing Boston again. It was so familiar, she almost wept with longing. She could remember this so well. He kissed the same, touched the same, smelled the same. And she'd missed him.

"I want..." she started, only to get caught on a gasp of pleasure.

"Yes?" he urged, his voice low and thick.

"I want—"

"Yo, Boston," a male voice yelled from the back door. "You alive in here?"

Ellie jerked backward, pressing a hand to her heart. Boston bit out a curse and closed his eyes.

"Kincaid?" Cameron called.

"Just a sec," Boston answered on a loud growl. He glanced at Ellie, his eyes unreadable before he opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hall.

"Whoa," she heard Cameron say. "You really did hurt yourself."

"No," Boston answered. "Ellie went gauze happy, that's all."

Pressing a hand to her heart, Ellie slid off the bathroom sink's vanity, inhaled a lungful, and stepped into the hall.

"He'll thank me tomorrow when his hands feel fine and aren't raw and burning," she informed Cameron.

204

Delinquent Daddy

by Linda Kage

Cameron grinned at her and immediately turned back to Boston. "So, did you ask her if Cassie could come for Thanksgiving yet?"

Ellie froze and Boston grew stiff next to her. She looked up at him as he gave a slight shake of his head, opening his mouth and looking way too guilty.

Glancing menacingly toward his cousin, he bit out, "No, I haven't yet."

Cameron blinked at the killer look he was receiving and glanced quizzically toward Ellie before returning his clueless gaze to Boston. "What?"

Boston closed his eyes and whispered an obscenity.

"Ah..." Looking distinctly uncomfortable, Cameron backed from them and pointed toward the exit. "Monty and I are almost done. We're just going to...yeah." He turned and hightailed it out of there.

Silence followed. Ellie heard Boston shuffle uncomfortably.

"Ellie..." he started.

Whirling toward him, she held up a hand to stop him.

"Next time you want something from me, just ask. Okay?

Don't go groping me in the bathroom, thinking it'll butter me up—"

"Whoa," he cut in, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward him. "Just stop. What happened in there had nothing to do with—"

"Oh, don't even bother, Boston. You don't really—"

"Jesus, I knew you'd jump to the wrong conclusion. That in there was not some deliberate scam to soften you up. And goddamn you for suggesting it was. I'm not that twenty-two-205

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