Текст книги "Faceoff"

Автор книги: Kelly Jamieson

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 9 страниц)

Chapter Seven

That night the Heller boys and the MacIntosh siblings all went to The Pelican, the bar on the beach. They sat on the big wooden deck, listening to the live band that played every weekend, drinking beer and coolers and talking. Matt met up with a group of girls he knew from high school who were dressed in short shorts and skimpy tank tops and who were flirting outrageously with him. And he was flirting back.

Tag smiled and shook his head, lifting his beer bottle to his lips.

“This is so gorgeous,” Remi said, gazing out at the lake being tinted pink and peach and gold by the setting sun. “It’s like Lake Michigan.”

“Not nearly as big,” Tag said. “Lake Michigan is the third largest lake in North America. Lake Winnipeg is the seventh.”

“Did you read that on a Trivial Pursuit card last night?” Kyla asked with a smirk. He grinned.

“No. I happened to know that. That’s why I’m so good at Trivial Pursuit.”

“We tied at one game each,” she reminded him, leaning back in the white plastic chair she sat in.

“They’re both huge lakes,” Remi said. “You can’t see the other side, so it’s big. And the sand is much nicer here. It’s incredible, so soft and white.”

“Yeah.”

Tag watched Kyla lift one knee to prop her bare foot on the edge of the chair. She was wearing shorts almost as short as those puck bunnies hitting on Matt and a little T-shirt that hugged her breasts, the words “I’m a lawyer, not a magician” printed on the front. Cute.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned to see Matt standing behind him. “Hey, dude,” Matt said in a low voice, crouching beside Tag’s chair. “Can I use that tent tonight?”

Tag frowned. “No.”

“Why not? You’re not seriously going to sleep out there, are you?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Look.” Matt glanced at the girls. “All three of those girls want to…you know.”

Whoa. “Not in my tent.”

“But if I’m in the tent, my snoring won’t bug you. You can have the bedroom all to yourself.”

That wasn’t going to work for what Tag had planned for the tent. “No way. The tent is mine.” He already had his things out there, everything he was going to need later…

“Oh man! Come on! Three girls! At the same time!”

Tag caught Kyla’s eye and knew she’d overheard when her lips twitched. She leaned over, her breasts brushing his arm. “Come on, Tag, think of your little brother.”

He scowled at her, then looked back at Matt. “No. That’s final. Find somewhere else for your…your…”

“Ménage à quatre?” Kyla suggested.

“Er…yeah.”

“Shit.” Matt stomped away.

Kyla laughed softly, still leaning near enough to him that he could smell her hair, a spicy floral scent mingled with a faint hint of coconut that remained from her sunscreen. Remembering applying that sunscreen to her sweet little body had him instantly hard as a hockey stick. He shifted in his chair. They had to get out of there and back to the cottage. Er, tent.

“I should get back and feed Caleb before we put him down for the night,” Jessica said. She looked at Scott.

“I guess that means I’m leaving too.” But he grinned good-naturedly as he rose from his chair. “Mom texted me a few minutes ago to say Emily was down.”

“Your cell phone is working?” Jase asked.

“Yeah. Sometimes. The service is kind of spotty up here.”

Tag sneaked a glance at Kyla. Did she know what he was thinking?

A few minutes later, he yawned. “Well, I think I’ll call it a night. Keep an eye on Matt.”

“He’s gone,” Logan said. “He left with those girls.”

Tag frowned. He’d better not find them in his tent when he got there. “Well, I guess he knows what he’s doing.”

Logan laughed. “Um, yeah. Pretty sure he does.”

Tag glanced at Kyla, lifting one eyebrow, tossing some bills on the table to cover the tab. “G’night.”

He strolled back toward the cottage down Main Street, then Bluebell Lane, through the growing darkness. The trees formed a lacy black canopy against the cobalt blue sky above him, where clouds were beginning to gather. The still-warm air brushed over his skin as he walked, a breeze springing up off the lake, and he breathed in deeply the fresh air scented with pine and grass and lake water. Would Kyla know to give it a few minutes and then follow him? Would she come?

Was he crazy to be doing this?

He wanted her with a deep visceral need that was almost shocking. It had started the moment he’d watched her keel over onto the grass on Friday night.

Well, no. It had started years ago. He’d just never really admitted it, to himself, to anyone. She’d somehow wriggled her way into his heart as a girl when she’d been so determined to keep up with them, despite her complete lack of athletic ability and coordination. She’d been so stubborn, so determined, so willing to do things that were clearly outside her comfort zone to fit in with them. Something had opened in his heart and let her in way back then.

It had turned sexual after that, when she’d grown up a little and he’d noticed that damn, she was hot. The one time they’d come so close to kissing, and he’d so wanted to, but he’d made himself back off. She was like a sister. Except not really. And her big brother was his best friend. Then Tag had left Winnipeg, had had lots of other girls, had focused on his career and had never looked back. Until she’d showed up here.

He crawled into the tent and turned on the battery-powered lamp he’d set on the small table. The tent was a decent size, and, unlike when he’d used it as a kid, his mom had recently purchased an inflatable bed, a double bed that, with the help of an extension cord plugged in at the cottage, had quickly filled with air and was pretty damn comfortable. A couple of sleeping bags zipped together―one was never big enough for him―and there was easily room for Kyla.

He stretched out on the bed, hands stacked behind his head, and stared up at the fabric of the tent. And waited.

Crickets chirped outside in the quiet night. The trees rustled in the breeze that had come up and cast shifting shadows on the tent. Somewhere an owl gave a low hoot.

Tag hadn’t thought much about work since he’d been at the lake, but that was the whole purpose of coming there―to get a break. It was the off season, and while he usually kept busy in the off season working out and training, doing some hockey camps for kids and organizing their golf tournament, this year had been a little different and was likely going to be different right up until training camp started in September. Maybe he should feel guilty about taking a break in the middle of the craziness, but hell, they’d survive without him for a week, and more importantly…Kyla.

If she showed up here at the tent, it was meant to be. If she didn’t…he could handle rejection. Maybe. It didn’t happen to him very often, but he was under no illusions that he was that desirable. He had women after him all the time, but it was only because of who he was, what he did, how much money he made. He’d learned that the hard way. Since high school he’d been aware of the girls who chased hockey players, the ones who hung out at the arena, who waited outside classrooms where they knew the hockey players had classes, who stalked them to the bars or coffee shops they hung out at. They liked being associated with jocks, athletes, guys who had a little fame, maybe thinking that fame would rub off on them by association. He’d been shallow enough―and horny enough―to take advantage of that. Later in life he’d encountered those same women, now looking for marriage to a rich athlete. It was easy to get caught up in that kind of adulation and for a while he had. Hence his disastrous relationship with Jovannah.

Maybe that was one reason Kyla had managed to get inside him like that. As nearly one of the family, she’d never had that simpering, star-struck attitude around him or any of his brothers, despite their success. She’d accepted his hockey talent with a distinct lack of being impressed, much like his parents, who never made a big deal of it. His parents had always told him and his brothers they’d been given a gift and they had to work hard to make the best of it, but it didn’t make them better than anyone else, and he’d always felt that from Kyla too. She teased and joked and accepted their hockey success with a matter-of-factness that…pleased him. He’d never really thought about that before, but now, with some disappointing relationships under his belt, a little cynicism, maybe a touch of bitterness, her unimpressed attitude toward him made him feel at ease. Horny as hell, but at ease.

A rustle in the grass outside had his head lifting. It had to be either Kyla…or Matt with his three chicks…or maybe a skunk or a raccoon. He’d take Matt over the skunk any day, but hopefully it was…

A shadow darkened the opening of the tent and he caught his breath, then rolled off the bed and unzipped the door. He reached out a hand, snagged a slender arm and yanked her inside.

Kyla.

“Hey!” She scowled at him in the pale golden light of the lamp.

“Quick,” he said. “Don’t let in the mosquitoes.”

She rubbed her arm. “Yeah, I know. I think I got ten bites on the way here.”

“They never bite me.”

“I remember that,” she said. “It used to piss me off. I’d pile on the DEET and still get attacked.”

“It’s because you’re so soft and sweet,” he said, moving closer. “My hide’s tough, so they leave me alone.”

“Uh-huh.” She looked back at him uncertainly. “So…”

He grinned and with his body nudged her backward to the bed. It wasn’t high, so her calves hit it and he caught her before she fell, lowering her to the mattress and then coming down beside her. “Tag…”

“Sssh. It’s okay.” He kissed her mouth softly. “No rush, Kyla. Let’s just…make out.”

He felt her smile against his lips. “You sound like we’re in high school.”

“Maybe we should’ve done this when we were in high school.”

“You didn’t want to. Remember?”

He paused. “Yeah.” He’d been trying to do the right thing back then. “But that was a long time ago.” He kissed one corner of her mouth. They stretched out on the bed, her on her back, him beside her, leaning over her but not even really touching her. Other than the hand he cupped her cheek with.

“I’m still not sure about this…”

Assertive, confident Kyla was so sweetly uncertain, and that tugged at something deep inside him yet again. He rose up and looked down at her face, rubbing her bottom lip with his thumb. “I know, sweetheart.”

Her eyes flickered at the endearment.

“We could just talk for a while,” he said. “I’m not sure about this either. But we’re not in high school. We’re adults now. We both know what we want…right?”

“Yes.” Her dark eyes gazed back at him, gleaming in the faint light.

“So what’s wrong with it?”

“You know as well as I do. Our families.”

“They don’t have to know about this.”

She sighed. “They’ll know. Somehow. But even if they don’t―what if this makes things all awkward between us? That will affect them.”

He stroked her soft lip, rubbed his fingertips over her velvety cheek. “I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

“I don’t either.”

He regarded her solemnly. “Do we stop then?”

She held his gaze.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled. “But we need to be honest. I want you. Hell, Kyla, I can’t explain it except you make me so fucking hot for you.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “But I’m not into relationships. Relationships haven’t worked out so well for me in the past. And I’ve got a lot on my plate right now with this move.”

She gave a tiny nod. “I know. I’m not looking for a relationship either. I’m trying to make partner and I don’t have time for anything else in my life.”

He wanted to point out to her how unhealthy that was, that there should be other things in her life―family, friends, time for herself, for fun, for her health. But since he’d also just said he wasn’t into relationships, he pushed that thought away and said, “Then we’re on the same page. I know you feel it―we both want it. We want each other.”

“Yes.”

“Okay then…” And he kissed her again. Covered her mouth with his and took it, in a long, slow, heated kiss. Christ, her mouth was soft. And warm. And sweet. He licked along her bottom lip and then inside her mouth, slowly. Heat rushed through his body, an intense urgency that he had to fight to control. Slow…easy…they had all night.

All night. The thought made his body burn, his gut ache with longing for her.

He slid his hand into her hair, all silky, and bit softly at her lips. She let out a soft sigh of pleasure and then, finally, her hands came up to touch him too. One hand curled around his biceps, the other clutched his shoulder. Her tongue slid against his, delicate and warm, and more heat built inside him, low down inside him. He groaned.

“Jesus, Kyla,” he sighed against her mouth. “I just wanna eat you up.” An almost overpowering sexual hunger for her rose up inside him.

“I know, I know.” They kissed again, mouths clinging, tongues playing. The temperature in the tent rose by several degrees even as the wind picked up outside, blowing the trees into dancing shadows, rushing through the branches in soft whispers and moans.

He shifted his mouth from hers and dragged it across her jaw, breathing in that coconut scent that smelled like sex on the beach, remembering fingering her to an orgasm earlier that day. And then she closed her teeth on his jaw and bit him, gently, and heat spiked inside him, hot and fast. Her tongue dragged across his skin and his mind blew up then, and he moved over her, pushing her body into the air mattress with his own, on his elbows above her, holding her head with both hands, and he kissed her again, this time hard, demanding, urgent.

“Okay,” he gasped. “Forget talking.”

Her hands slid over him, down his back and then up into his hair, back down to his ass. Her hips lifted against him, just barely, a supplication, and he pushed back, pelvis to pelvis, his dick hard and throbbing against her softness.

He hoped to god she didn’t want to stop now, because it would fucking kill him. He slipped his hand down and found her breast. It filled his hand with lush softness, so perfect and soft beneath her T-shirt and bra. His head spun, blood pounded in his veins. She felt so good, and again he breathed in her scent. He gently squeezed her, rubbed his palm over the nub of her nipple. He wanted to rip her clothes off and get her naked, skin to skin, but…they had all night.

He opened his mouth on the side of her neck and gently sucked, licked and sucked again. “Mmm.” Sweetness. “You taste so good, Kyla.”

She made a little noise, maybe a word, he didn’t know, he just kept licking and kissing her, making his way down to her throat where he rested his lips over the pulse that fluttered there. Then her hands found their way beneath his golf shirt and stroked over his skin. Tingles spread from her touch in radiating waves of pleasure.

“Want to feel your skin,” she breathed. “And all your beautiful muscles.”

He huffed out an amused breath. “You have some pretty muscles too.”

He lifted his head and they shared a smile that stopped his heart briefly.

“I don’t have muscles,” she demurred, sliding her hands down to the base of his spine.

“Sure you do. They’re not big and bulky, but they’re there and they’re really, really nice.” He pushed the neckline of her T-shirt aside and traced his tongue along her collar bone.

She sighed again. “You’re a good kisser, Tag.”

“Thank you.” He smiled against her skin. “So are you.”

“Make that a great kisser.” Her body shifted, her hips lifting again, and then her hands slid even lower, beneath the waistband of his cargo shorts, right onto his ass. He damn near burst into flames.

“I’m really trying to go slow,” he gasped. “But you’re making it damn hard.”

She chucked. “I know. I can feel how hard it is.”

He chuckled too, something expanding in his chest. They were both so hot for each other and yet could still laugh. It was fun, so much fun, being with her. He kissed her again, giving in to the delicious pleasure of it. He rubbed himself against her, letting her feel his hard on even more, because hell yeah, he was hard, aching hard for her.

He wanted to feel skin too, so slipped his hand beneath her T-shirt and laid his palm on her stomach, just resting there for a moment. “So nice,” he murmured into her mouth. She licked his bottom lip, causing another surge of blood through his veins.

Then she was pushing at him, rolling him over, and taken by surprise, he let her do it. On top of him, she smiled down at him. “I don’t want to go slow.”

Chapter Eight

Kyla looked down at Tag, almost overwhelmed by being with him like this, by his kisses, so damn arousing, stirring up all kinds of weird sensations inside her, lust for sure, but also some kind of softer emotions, a tenderness, a desperate need for him—and she liked him, dammit. She’d been hesitant about this at first, but it had only taken a few minutes of kissing and petting and she was dying for him. Now.

She started to lean down to kiss him again, but found the tent spinning above her and then she was flat on her back again. She stared up at Tag. “Hey!”

“We’re going slow.”

A thrill ran through her, but she frowned. “Who died and put you in charge?”

He gave her a slow, seductive smile. “I put me in charge. Just because.”

Her frown deepened. “That’s not a good reason.”

“We have all night,” he murmured, kissing her jaw. “Slow is good.”

She shoved at his chest. “But…but…Tag!”

He laughed softly and nipped her chin. “I’m bigger than you. How’s that for a reason?”

“What are you? Some kind of Neanderthal dominant?”

“Hmm. Funny you should say that.” He took her hands and lifted them above her head on the pillow, holding her there as he kissed the corner of her mouth. Heat washed down through her, a quivering excitement low in her belly at the way he held her down. She was annoyed though. Well, she should be annoyed. Oh hell, she was turned-on. “I also have some ways of making you behave.”

She gave a little snort, even as her insides melted at the touch of his mouth on the side of her neck. “Like what? Whips and chains?”

He smiled. Then he started kissing her again.

God, he was such a good kisser!

His mouth moved over hers with expert pressure and the perfect amount of tongue, his tongue sliding into her mouth so deliciously, so sexy and warm. His body big and heavy against hers heated her skin, pressed her into the mattress with sweet weight.

He slid his hands into her hair and kissed her again, and again. His mouth opened on hers, his tongue traced her bottom lip and she let herself fall into it, into the warm dreamy pleasure of it, the growing ache of desire inside her. She held onto his big shoulders, rubbing over them, his back, his arms. He felt so good.

His hand found its way beneath her T-shirt and when he touched the bare skin of her abdomen, her muscles there quivered. He stayed like that for long moments, just resting his hand there while they kissed.

The man knew how to torture a girl.

Her breasts swelled in anticipation of his touch, her nipples hard points. Finally his hand moved, rubbing in little circles while he slid his mouth over her jaw, nibbled her earlobe and then dragged his tongue down the side of her neck. She shivered and her fingers dug into his back. His hand found her breast and cupped it again, but still through her bra. She wanted to sit up and rip her clothes off.

“I love how you smell,” he whispered. “And your skin is so soft.” She melted into the bed as he kissed her shoulder. Then he rose above her onto his knees, straddling her. He was so big and wide she just drank in the sight of him there as he pushed her top up, up, over her breasts. She helped him ease it off her arms and over her head, then let him reach behind her to unfasten her bra. He studied her as he tossed her clothes aside, then closed his hands around her waist gently, his big hands making her feel so small. “Wow, Kyla.”

His words inflamed her, excitement twisting inside her, and her entire body pulsed with heat. She was so glad he liked looking at her. Her nipples tightened even more exposed to the air and his eyes and her lips parted as she looked up at him. His hands slid up her sides, then cupped her breasts, and when his thumbs brushed over her nipples, her body twitched hard. She moaned.

“So pretty,” he muttered and bent his head. When his lips closed over one nipple, her eyes fell closed and her head tipped back into the pillow. Ribbons of pleasure streamed from nipple to womb and pressure built deep inside her.

She couldn’t stop the noises that came from her throat and her hands dove into his hair, holding his head at her breast as he tugged at the sensitive flesh with his mouth. Everything inside her tightened, her hips lifted against his body as he bent over her. He moved to the other nipple and suckled there, slow and sweet.

She opened her eyes and lifted her head just as he looked up at her and their eyes met, his mouth on her breast, and the visual along with the sensations whipping over her nerve endings made her pussy spasm again with longing. “Tag,” she whispered. “God, that’s good. So good.”

His eyelashes lowered and he sucked harder, just at the very tender tip of her nipple. She cried out at the exquisite pleasure of it while his hand found her other breast and rolled that nipple between his fingers. As he moved between breasts, sucking, licking, nibbling and pinching, she felt the folds of her pussy swell. She knew from the deep ache that she was wet there, her clit pulsing with need.

Outside the tent, the wind picked up, tossing the tree branches with murmurs and whispers and groans that echoed the sounds inside the tent as Tag made love to her breasts until she writhed beneath him, desperate to have him inside her.

“So sweet,” he murmured. “You have the prettiest breasts, Kyla. Perfect and round and soft. And your nipples…” He kissed one, then the other. “Love how hard they are. Just made to be sucked. Mmm.” And he did that again.

The way he talked surprised her, this big jock, superstar athlete. She’d always known he was bright and articulate, the player the media all wanted to interview because he didn’t talk in clichés and had thoughtful, intelligent opinions about his sport. But the low tone of his voice and the sexy words and compliments were unexpected. And so very, very hot. Burning, scorching, set-the-sleeping-bag-on-fire hot.

She let her hands roam everywhere she could, from his short silky hair to the soft skin at the nape of his neck, beneath the collar of his shirt to his big shoulder bones. Her fingers scrabbled in the soft cotton of his shirt to draw it up on his body so she could feel more skin, satiny smooth skin over hard muscle. Heat radiated from him, the same heat flowing through her body in waves.

He rose up then, reached for the hem of his shirt with crossed arms and pulled it up and off. She’d seen his bare chest, but now she got to touch it, sliding her palms up his ridged abs to his pecs, rubbing over the hair there and then his nipples, flat discs with hard little nubs. He groaned and came back down over her, this time to kiss her mouth again, but the feel of his chest against her bare breasts, skin-to-skin contact, sent flames licking over every nerve ending. She lifted her pelvis into him, his erection evident against her. He rubbed himself against her, so big and hard, and more flames built inside her, a deeper, needier ache that she was getting desperate to ease.

“Slow,” he murmured against her lips at the restless movement of her hips beneath him. “Remember.”

“I can’t, Tag. God.”

“Delayed gratification,” he said, sliding down her body. “Wait for it. It’ll be worth it.”

“Oh god. I hope so.”

“Believe me, sweetheart.” He kissed her throat. “It’s killing me too.” He laid a string of kisses down between her breasts and onto her tummy. Her muscles there tightened and her fingers curled into her palms on the bed beside her. He paused, his cheek on her stomach, another visual that would remain seared into her memory for always—Tag’s tanned face, dark with a scruff of beard, his lips parted and eyes closed, resting against her naked body. So intimate. So heart-stoppingly beautiful. Tag.

A wave of emotion rushed over her. She tried to suppress it, squeezed her eyes closed against the prickling in the corners, and then as he moved again, pressing kisses to her abdomen, then lower, she got swept up in sensation again, in lovely warm sensation, Tag’s mouth opening on her skin, his fingers unbuttoning and unzipping her shorts and parting them so he could kiss lower still, over the front of her panties.

She lifted her hips as he eased the shorts down over them and slid them down her legs. “Sweet,” he murmured, looking at her panties, a pair of pink and white striped cheekie shorts. “Roll over.”

She blinked at him and he made a circular motion with his finger. She huffed out a laugh and rolled onto her stomach.

“Oh Christ,” he groaned.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” she said, voice muffled by the sleeping bag. Her face heated, imagining his appraisal of her body. “In my bathing suit.”

“True. But panties are different. Don’t ask me why.” A touch on her butt cheek made her jump a little and when she realized he kissed her there, heat rolled through her again. He kissed both cheeks, rubbed his palms over them and then, shockingly, slid his hand between her legs to cup her pussy. She moaned and her hips lifted and legs parted involuntarily to give him access, to touch her where she so badly needed to be touched. She felt him drawing her panties off, down over her legs.

She breathed into the sleeping bag, again imagining his eyes on her, what he was seeing.

“So pretty, Kyla.” He stroked a finger through her folds. “Such a pretty pussy.”

“I can’t stand it anymore!” she cried, trying to roll to her back again. “God, Tag!”

“Sssh. It’s windy out, but someone could hear us.”

She made a frustrated sound as his hand on her back pushed her down. God! With one hand he held her in place.

“I know what you need,” he said, and to her surprise, he rolled off her and off the bed, leaving her bereft, her pussy aching and pulsing with need. Yeah, she knew what she needed and him leaving wasn’t it. She lifted onto one elbow and watched him bend to pick up a small case from the floor of the tent. He set it on the bed, opened it and pulled out a roll of what looked like wide black tape.

“What is that?”

He smiled. He ripped open the roll. It sounded like Velcro. The next thing she knew, her wrists were bound behind her back with the stuff.

“Bondage tape,” he said, satisfaction deepening his voice.

She blinked. Her wrists tingled.

“You can’t be serious,” she breathed into the sleeping bag. “What are you, some kind of sadistic perv?” She rolled over, bending her elbows and fitting her hands into the small of her back.

He tipped his head to one side and held her gaze steadily. “Maybe.”

Her stomach did a little flip and warmth spread through her body. “I could just scream for help.”

“Yeah…no. You won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t want anyone to know about this. And also because I have this.” He pulled out a black rubber strap with a red ball attached to it.

Kyla stared. “What the hell is that?”

“A ball gag.”

“Jesus.” Her insides tightened and her pulse leaped. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Not if you keep quiet.” He held up the gag with a questioning look and a teasing glint in his eye that both excited and reassured her. The idea of trying to get away came into her head and then disappeared. Really, she had no hope of escaping him. And really…she didn’t want to.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “I don’t want that,” she muttered. “I don’t want this stuff on my wrists either.” She eyed the case. “What other kinky stuff have you got in there?”

He smiled. “This.” He pulled out a small cloth bag. From it he withdrew a glass dildo. Her lips parted as she studied it. It was really very beautiful, clear glass with swirling red hearts in the shaft of it. She longed to touch it, to feel the weight of it, the smoothness of the glass. She swallowed. “Some lube,” he added, tossing a small bottle onto the bed. “A paddle. A blindfold. Some other stuff…but I don’t want to scare you.”

“You don’t scare me.” Oh lord, anticipation curled deep inside her. Her eyes fell on the paddle.

His grin had her melting into her panties. “I know, dammit. I never have, have I?”

She cocked her head, unsure what that was about. “No. But why would you want to?”

“I don’t want to scare you.” He sat on the bed beside her and laid his hand on her chest between her breasts. Her nipples immediately tightened and her skin heated. “Sometimes I wish you were just a little more impressed with me.”

She gazed up at him, not sure what to say. Didn’t he know how impressed she was with him? How much she’d worshipped him?

“But then,” he continued, his hand sliding up until it rested at her throat, cupping her there, so gently, yet so compellingly. “I’m actually glad you’re not. You treat me just like anyone else.”

She continued to gaze at him, studying his face, trying to read what was behind these enigmatic comments. His hand on her throat made her feel…as if she belonged to him. Her heart beat faster. And harder. “I guess…” Okay, the brother comparison was just wrong now after what they’d just done. And truthfully, since she’d been old enough to know what sexual feelings felt like, that whole brother thing had been out the window. “I guess you’re not that special,” she finished.

His eyes widened, then narrowed—and then he laughed. “See? You fucking turn me upside down, Mac.”

His use of that old nickname only stirred up her mixed feelings even more. She’d wanted so much to be one of the boys, she’d begged them to call her that. All the other boys had laughed at her, but Tag had started calling her that, and somehow, it had rubbed off on the others. She’d been forever grateful to him for that, for not making fun of her over it.

“Untie my hands,” she said.

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Tag…”

“Kyla.”

She gazed back at him in frustration.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, stroking her hair back from her face. “Do you trust that I won’t hurt you?”