That First Mistake
A drunken, late night phone call from his twenty-two year old son has Grant Forena driving hundreds of miles to knock some sense into him. Instead he finds himself butting heads with the most stunning young woman he’s ever seen. McKay Priestly is fierce, strong and captivating in ways Grant never expected. She’s also taken, by his son.
Grant blames McKay for his son’s reckless behavior, but something else drives his anger and harsh words. McKay feels the same impossible chemistry. To act on it would be crazy, but ignoring it doesn’t make the ache go away. Any time spent in each other’s company is a mistake, every gaze carries words they wouldn’t dare speak out loud. But restraint can only go so far. Something has to give and when it finally does, it sets off an emotional bomb of heartbreak that began with that very first mistake.
After giving him her address, she twisted her fingers in her lap. Her skirt was riding up and she chastised herself for not wearing jeans or something that didn’t have her knees exposed right now.
“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” She glared at him. “Now you have the ammunition you need to keep us apart. Why haven’t you used it yet?”
“What?” He glanced from the road to her and back. “You think I planned that? You think I deliberately did something that would further alienate my son?” He laughed, a bitter thing.
“Then why?” she cried. “Why did you do that? Everything’s fucked up now. I can’t—I can’t…” I can’t stop tasting you. She couldn’t stop remembering, but she kept that to herself.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t speak at all.
He ignored her, jaw ticking, his focus on the road.
“I’m not breaking up with Seth, so you can forget that. If you want him to leave me, you tell him. Tell him you kissed me.” Her breaths were coming in short, shallow bursts. “Tell him I kissed you back.”
Grant’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, but still he didn’t speak. She threw her head back and copied him. They rode in silence and when he finally pulled in front of the house she rented, she opened the door and got out before him.
She was shoving the key into the lock when she felt him at her back, his breath in her hair. She froze and they stood there, at her door, pressed together.
“I kissed you because I needed to.” His words at her ear, jagged and cutting, buckled her knees. She slapped a palm against the door. “I needed to taste you. I needed to feel you. I can’t explain it, even now…” He bunched her hair in his large fist.
“Even now, I want to taste you again. All over.” He shuddered. “This is the worst fucking mistake.”
It was, but she held herself still, refusing to breathe. She didn’t want him to move. “Grant.”
“You kissed me back, McKay.” His hold on her hair tightened. “You wanted me just as much. You want me. If you were anyone else we’d be inside that dark house and I’d be inside you.”
Her pussy clenched. “No.” The words—what he described was impossible. Impossible. But she ached anyway. “W-we can’t.”
His hoarse laugh ruffled her hair. “I know. That’s why I’m not going to turn you around, because if I look into your eyes, my tongue will be down your throat.”
Breath hiccuped from her lungs.
“My fingers would be under your skirt and knuckles deep in that pussy I know is fucking creaming for me right now.” He bucked into her once, his erection pressing against her ass.
She pushed back, hard, grinding against him.
His breath hitched. His lips skated across her nape. “Goodbye, McKay.”
His solid form behind her was just gone. She pitched forward against the door, panting as she heard his car door slam. Tires squealed, releasing her from the spell.
Her knees buckled and she sagged into the door with a cry.