Page 36 of York

My head whipped up to look at his face.

The air charged around us, creating little sparks all across my skin as my breath went fast and shallow.

York’s gaze darkened.

And I saw the decision just a second before his giant hand grabbed the back of my neck and his lips crashed down to mine.

Everything fell away.

The fear, uncertainty, worries, pain, the responsibilities of motherhood, the way my life had been tilted off its axis.

It was like we were back in that motel room all those years ago. Just a man and a woman and the chemistry that had been simmering for hours.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss. His lips nearly bruised into mine. And I kissed him back in kind, all the years of denial making me desperate for the touch, feel, and sensation of man.

His arm hooked around my waist, pulling me against him. My breasts crushed to his chest. My pelvis curved into his, feeling the thick outline of his cock as he hardened.

A moan escaped me, muffled by his lips, but he took the opportunity for his tongue to slip inside and toy with mine.

The sparks were a raging fire right then, searing across every inch of my skin, threatening to burn me up completely if I didn’t get some relief.

As if sensing the thoughts, York’s hand was between us, pressing to the barely-there fabric between my legs.

His mouth muffled my cry at the shock of desire that shot through me.

There was nothing else then but the heavy, helpless, breathless need as his fingers worked me through the material until I was clutching his arms, until I was crying out against his lips, until I was trembling as I came.

His hand released the back of my neck, allowing me to break the kiss, my forehead pressing into his chest as I struggled to catch my breath. His fingers went to the back of my head instead, a gentle pressure holding me against him as I came back down.

I knew I needed to move away, needed to not be so clingy and needy, but being held by him seemed to quiet something inside me I had given up on trying to soothe.

“Mama, can I have a ‘tizer?” Denny called up from the bottom of the stairs.

“A what?” York asked as we both stepped away, the moment passed.

“I’m assuming an appetizer,” I said. “She can have anything really. But she doesn’t do spicy well.”

“Got it,” he said, making his way to the door and moving out.

Alone, I leaned against the wall and sighed.

That… that was not in my plans.

Making things complicated with York was not ideal. I needed him to keep wanting to be in Denali’s life. And if things got weird with us, I was risking that.

I had to take a step back, rein in my damn hormones, and keep things platonic between us.

Because without York’s help, I wasn’t sure if I was going to survive long enough to watch my little girl grow up.

And I couldn’t let that happen if I had any control over it.

Decision made, I went into the bedroom and changed, then made my way downstairs for dinner. And tried like hell to keep a wall up between myself and York.

Judging by the way I kept catching him studying me with pinched brows, I figured it was working.

Good.

That was good.