Forged in Steele (KGI #7)(24)

Twenty minutes later she returned to the kitchen, her still-damp hair combed out and hanging down her shoulders. She was pouring the boiling water into her mug when a knock sounded at her door.

She sighed because she knew she’d jinxed herself by thinking how nice it was to have had an early day. Nothing like inviting a house call by making plans for a quiet, relaxing evening.

Setting her cup aside, she went to her door and cracked it an inch. Dusk had fallen, but she had no problem making out the man standing in her doorway, his expression indecipherable. Her eyes widened as she continued to stare dumbly at him.

“Going to invite me in?” Steele asked gruffly.

For a moment she just stood there, unable to make her mouth work, and her body refused her brain’s commands to step back and let him in.

“Steele,” she said faintly.

“Glad you remember me,” he said dryly.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” he said shortly. Then he looked pointedly at the door handle she still clutched with her hand.

She hastily stepped back, opening the door wider as she gestured for him to enter.

He strode in as if he belonged and then stood in the living room, turning to face her as she closed the door and turned her attention to him.

They stared in silence, him studying her every bit as much as she studied him. Her tongue was tied. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him. He was the very last person she would have expected to show up.

Then it dawned on her that the only time she saw him was when one of his team members needed medical attention.

“Is something wrong? Is someone hurt? Should I head to the clinic?”

Steele slowly shook his head. “I came alone.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

He dragged a hand through his hair and briefly looked away. His entire stance signaled he was ill at ease. He didn’t immediately answer and that puzzled her. He was blunt, straightforward. Never one to mince words. And yet he seemed to be having a hard time articulating his thoughts.

“I was supposed to get you out of my system. One night. Needed you out from underneath my skin,” he finally bit out.

Her eyes narrowed. “Yeah? And how’s that working out for you?”

“Not too damn well,” he muttered.

Then to her shock, he closed the distance between them and pulled her roughly into his arms. He angled his head and pressed his lips to hers, devouring her mouth in a hot, breathless, toe-curling kiss.

She sighed into his mouth and melted into him, her body going liquid. Desire pooled in her belly and she reacted instantly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss.

“Been thinking of nothing else since that night,” he murmured. “Had to come back. You’re still under my skin, Maren. Can’t get rid of you. I think about you. I dream about you. That night only made it worse.”

She arched one eyebrow as she stared up at him. “And you think another night will help?”

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that I’m going to die if I don’t have you again. Make love with me, Maren. Spend another night with me.”

Though technically it was a request, it didn’t come out as one at all. It was more of a command, and it was voiced in a way that suggested he didn’t need or want an actual answer.

She was an idiot for doing this. Especially in light of what she suspected. But how could she throw a damper on the entire thing by saying she might be pregnant, or that she even suspected she could be?

There was an urgency to his every movement. The way he kissed her. The way he voiced his “request.” The way he looked at her, those intense blue eyes boring into her and heating her from the inside out. She couldn’t tell him no any more than she could give up breathing. He wasn’t the only one who’d thought of little else since that night, and it gave her immense satisfaction that he was here, when he’d sworn they’d only have one night.

“Do you want me, Maren? Do you ache like I do? Have you thought of that night?”

“Oh yes,” she breathed. “I’ve thought of you every single night when I go to bed alone and wish you were there.”

“Thank f**k,” he muttered.

Then he yanked her back into his arms and covered her mouth hungrily, as though he were starving for her. His tongue, hot and urgent, slid into her mouth, between her lips, tasting her and teasing her tongue with his.

“Bedroom,” he said between kisses.

“Lead the way,” she whispered back.

He swept her into his arms—and oh man did she love it when he hauled her around like she weighed nothing—and carried her into her bedroom, just as he’d done that first night. This time he wasn’t as gentle. He went with her onto the bed, coming down on top of her as she landed with a soft bounce.

His body pressed hard and urgent onto hers, his mouth never leaving her lips. As he kissed, he pulled at her clothing, pulled at his, somehow managing to get them both mostly naked while still devouring every inch of her mouth.

He pulled away long enough to yank his shirt over his head and tug impatiently at hers. His eyes glittered with satisfaction when he discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath the T-shirt she’d just changed into.

“Brought a lot more condoms this time,” he said in a low rumble. “Plan on using every one of them.”