“Oh, yeah, baby. Drench me.”
He surged up again, muscles straining, his gaze ping-ponging between their unwelcome observer and her sweet, undulating body. The anger inside him climbed right along with the need until his expelled breaths scalded his throat.
She’s mine, you bastard. Watch while I show you. While I make her come like you never did and never will…
“I can’t take it.” She pulsed around him, white-hot and tight, urging him to let go. “Justin, please.”
His orgasm roared through him, so overwhelming and all-consuming his vision blackened and his body numbed. Even as she held on to his legs, something inside him ripped free. He shuddered again and again, adrift in the ecstasy she’d brought him.
Finally lucidity returned. As his eyes opened, he saw Kylie slumped against his updrawn legs, her back glistening with sweat. She rubbed her cheek against his skin and murmured softly, but he didn’t hear what she said. His gaze was on the man who’d yet to leave the front stoop. Though he couldn’t see his face, his fury might as well have flattened the door blocking his entry.
Time to face the dickweed he’d wanted to throttle since last night.
“Kylie,” he whispered, but she’d already heard the sudden renewed pounding at the door, along with her bellowed name.
Her lax, loose form stiffened. He hated watching her shoulders brace, hated even more when she slid off him and drew herself to her feet. A flash of pain crossed her face as she rubbed the bruise on her thigh and flexed her legs. Her muscles had to be trembling from the position she’d just been in, but she quickly began to dress.
“I’ll handle him.”
“We’ll handle him,” he corrected, standing to pull on his jeans. “You aren’t alone anymore.”
She shot him an impatient glance, then hurried toward the front door, flinging it open just as Justin reached her. “Rob, we’re a little busy,” she began, but Justin only saw the lifted fist in the air, coming down in slow motion toward her gorgeous face.
No fucking way. Not again. Not in his home. Not Kylie.
His brain didn’t engage, but his body sure did. He pushed her out of the way and flew out the open door into the blinding snow, his forward motion driving him into the huge man dominating the stoop. Rob had to be six feet three and two fifty at least, but the size mismatch didn’t slow Justin for an instant.
The fucker was going to pay.
“You like to hit women? You like to hurt them to get your rocks off?” Justin gripped Rob’s shoulders and shoved him back, propelling them both down the two steps. A thin layer of ice glazed the snow, making maintaining his footing difficult when the other guy decided to shove back.
“Hit women? Are you crazy? I’ve never hit my woman.” Rob clearly didn’t have the same reservations about hitting him, however, because one of his meaty paws plowed into Justin’s cheek before he could duck.
“Rob! Justin! Are you two fucking nuts?” Kylie hurtled between them, her face a pale mask of anger and fear. She grabbed both men’s shirtfronts, but Justin nudged her firmly out of the way before returning the gift he’d just received.
Except when Justin’s fist connected with flesh and bone, he didn’t stop. He rained blows on Rob’s face, not hearing his shouts, not recognizing Kylie’s frustrated screams.
They fell to the ground, scrabbling like wild beasts in the packed snow. He didn’t feel the cold, didn’t notice the wind-driven flakes pelting his face. Hell, he barely saw Rob’s watery green eyes swelling shut.
All he could see was the smug smile of the man who’d wielded a belt on his mother.
Never again.
“He didn’t hit me. He never hit me. Justin.” Kylie yanked at his arm, pulling him back. “It’s my fault he’s here. I called him to tell him I was okay—”
Shock rolled through Justin’s system. “You called him?” His attention switched to her for a moment, just long enough that Rob’s mammoth fist rammed directly into his eye.
And everything went black.
Five
Kylie paced back and forth between Justin’s living room and his kitchen, lacing and unlacing her fingers. The police had come and gone, and both sides had agreed not to press charges. Rob had asked her if she’d lost her mind to get involved with such a wack job, and at the moment she wasn’t sure she could argue. The look on Justin’s face when he’d leaped at Rob—
She shuddered. She’d never seen that much fury before. The kind of fury that could kill.
At first, discovering all the new sides and aspects of Justin had been fun and exciting. Alluring, even. Clearly she hadn’t scratched the surface of him in college. But this was a hell of a lot.
Then again, she’d been the one to jump into bed right away with Justin. He’d only been protecting her honor, whether or not she needed it.
She swallowed and pressed her palm against the pain drilling into her temple. She’d gone from the pinnacle of pleasure to the depths of terror with barely a minute to breathe. No wonder a mariachi band had taken up residence in her skull.
Her body still hurt from yesterday, though nowhere near as much as it had last night. She kept flexible from Pilates and yoga, so she’d bounced back pretty quickly. Not to mention she’d gotten big-time lucky that her fall hadn’t been worse.
But now it seemed like her luck had dried up.
On her trip back into the living room, she stared at the man sulking silently on the couch. He was bare-chested, and his dark hair stuck out in twenty different directions. Then there were the twin bruises that shadowed the entire left side of his face.
She winced. His cheek must be throbbing.
“Do you want more ice?” she asked, not coming any closer than the doorway. She wasn’t afraid of him for herself, not physically. Even in the midst of freaking hand-to-hand combat, he’d eased her out of the way with the care of a grizzly cradling a baby bird in his paw.
“No.” The ice pack sat in his lap, melting all over his jeans. The splotch of wet ran all the way down one thigh, but he didn’t seem to care. “I’m fine.”
She couldn’t take this tense silence between them anymore. “You sure look fine.” She strode forward until their knees bumped and bent down to grip his chin, turning his face toward the fireplace. She’d rekindled the fire, and that was the only thing that chased the gloom out of the gray day.
He hadn’t wanted lights. Or medical attention. Or for her to even stay. That pissed her off the most.
“You look like hell,” she said finally, hoping her voice wasn’t trembling. She couldn’t be sure of anything at the moment. “You hit the ground pretty hard.”
“I’m fine.”
“Justin—”
“Did I badger you when you went off half-cocked on a snowmobile you had no clue how to ride and got into an accident? Did I lecture you? No. I’d appreciate the same courtesy.”
She slapped her hands on her hips. “I was fully cocked, thank you very much.” To her surprise, his lips twitched, though he didn’t meet her gaze. “And I had a clue how to ride. Sort of. I’ve gone out a few times, just not alone. I wasn’t thinking straight. But you were.”