“If that’s the case, you could always lay a hot, wet one on me,” he’d said silkily. “I guarantee an unforgettable kiss.”
“Like I said, Kyle. Been there, done that.”
“But not with me,” he insisted.
“Been there, done that with you.” Celia locked her gaze on his. “You were the first guy who ever kissed me.”
Kyle shook his head. “Trust me, I’d remember that.”
“Trust me, you forgot. After a night out partying with Hank, you stumbled into my room instead of the guest bedroom. You stripped naked in front of my sixteen-year-old virgin eyes and crawled into my bed. When I tried to move, you grabbed me and kissed me. With tongue and everything.”
He wore an appalled look. “I did?”
“Yep. Then you rolled off me and started snoring. I snuck out and crashed on the couch upstairs. You weren’t in my room the next morning. You never said a word about it, which meant you didn’t remember, because we both know you’d’ve been a total dick if you had. But that doesn’t change the fact you were my first kiss.”
“Jesus, Celia. I don’t remember.”
“It’s not like I could forget. Besides, it’s over and done with.” She tried to turn away but Kyle didn’t allow it.
His hands cupped her face. “Let me make it up to you by kissin’ you at midnight tonight.”
“But—”
“I’ll be totally sober, I promise. And this kiss?” He’d lazily, erotically traced the outline of her lips with his thumb. “Will blow your mind.”
And it had. Holy shit, had it ever.
Celia shivered, remembering being wrapped in his arms. His mouth so sure on hers as the clock struck twelve.
Four loud raps on the bathroom door startled her out of her trip down memory lane.
“Celia? You all right? You’ve been in there half an hour.”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Be right out.”
She exhaled a slow breath and studied her handiwork in the mirror. She’d tried to play up her boring gray eyes, adding black eyeliner, drawing attention away from the bruises that liquid face makeup couldn’t camouflage. Extra blush brightened her pale skin. Bronze lipstick highlighted her mouth. She couldn’t do much about the white bandage on her forehead, unless she gave herself bangs. Since her three and a half feet of blond hair was her best feature, that wasn’t happening.
She popped a mint in her mouth and opened the door.
Kyle turned from the window and inspected her head to toe. When he continued to stare at her, without uttering a word, without a single change in his facial expression, a tiny kernel of dread bloomed in her gut.
“What? Do I look like death warmed over or something?”
“Not hardly.”
“Then why are you staring at me?”
He crossed the room, stopping a foot from her. “Seems I’ve known you forever, Celia. Then other times, I look at you and I feel I don’t know you at all.”
“So I don’t look like a hundred-and-fifty-pound steer got the better of me today?” she joked, unnerved by the male heat darkening his eyes.
“Nope. You ready?”
“For what? The concert doesn’t start for three hours.”
“I meant are you done in the bathroom? I need to get cleaned up. I’m not exactly in concert attire.”
Kyle preferred dressing in traditional western shirts, so his upper-body physique wasn’t obvious…until those long sleeves were stripped away to reveal his muscular arms. His biceps and triceps were beyond simply well defined. Yet his truly spectacular forearms always drew her attention.
“Celia?”
Her gaze met his. Kyle’s eyes were an unusual hue, somewhere between summer-grass green and pine green. With gold flecks that reminded her of dappled sunspots reflecting off a crystal clear mountain lake.
“You feelin’ okay?”
What was wrong with her? Salivating over his arms? Becoming mesmerized by his eyes? Maybe she had knocked a screw loose when she’d smacked into the ground today.
Right. Keep telling yourself that. He’s the reason you came to Vegas. You haven’t stopped thinking about him or what that kiss meant for the last three weeks.
She cleared her throat. “I’m still a little wonky. So if I say anything weird”—like compose an ode to your tight little butt—“chalk it up to a head injury.”
Then he was nose to nose with her. “I shoulda forced a damn pain pill down your throat so you’d be sacked out instead of planning on goin’ out.”
Happy that snappish Kyle was back, she poked his shoulder. “I’m not missing Devin’s concert. I’m not missing the private after party at the casino either. So if you’re determined to be my keeper tonight, Kyle, you’d better keep up.”
“Remember you said that, kitten. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
Yeah, we’ll see about that.
A minute after she heard the shower kick on, she snuck out.
Kyle couldn’t believe Celia had ditched him.
To add insult to injury…she’d left him a f**king note.
Meet you at the concert ~ C
For chrissake, she shouldn’t be going to the damn concert with ten stitches in her head. He half expected to find the bloody bandage in the garbage.
Reckless damn woman. Made him want to paddle her butt again. But bare-assed this time. Not in a roomful of people either, like last year in Breck’s hotel suite on the eve of Celia’s birthday.