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If she showed up here at the tent, it was meant to be. If she didn’t…he could handle rejection. Maybe. It didn’t happen to him very often, but he was under no illusions that he was that desirable. He had women after him all the time, but it was only because of who he was, what he did, how much money he made. He’d learned that the hard way. Since high school he’d been aware of the girls who chased hockey players, the ones who hung out at the arena, who waited outside classrooms where they knew the hockey players had classes, who stalked them to the bars or coffee shops they hung out at. They liked being associated with jocks, athletes, guys who had a little fame, maybe thinking that fame would rub off on them by association. He’d been shallow enough―and horny enough―to take advantage of that. Later in life he’d encountered those same women, now looking for marriage to a rich athlete. It was easy to get caught up in that kind of adulation and for a while he had. Hence his disastrous relationship with Jovannah.

Maybe that was one reason Kyla had managed to get inside him like that. As nearly one of the family, she’d never had that simpering, star-struck attitude around him or any of his brothers, despite their success. She’d accepted his hockey talent with a distinct lack of being impressed, much like his parents, who never made a big deal of it. His parents had always told him and his brothers they’d been given a gift and they had to work hard to make the best of it, but it didn’t make them better than anyone else, and he’d always felt that from Kyla too. She teased and joked and accepted their hockey success with a matter-of-factness that…pleased him. He’d never really thought about that before, but now, with some disappointing relationships under his belt, a little cynicism, maybe a touch of bitterness, her unimpressed attitude toward him made him feel at ease. Horny as hell, but at ease.

A rustle in the grass outside had his head lifting. It had to be either Kyla…or Matt with his three chicks…or maybe a skunk or a raccoon. He’d take Matt over the skunk any day, but hopefully it was…

A shadow darkened the opening of the tent and he caught his breath, then rolled off the bed and unzipped the door. He reached out a hand, snagged a slender arm and yanked her inside.

Kyla.

“Hey!” She scowled at him in the pale golden light of the lamp.

“Quick,” he said. “Don’t let in the mosquitoes.”

She rubbed her arm. “Yeah, I know. I think I got ten bites on the way here.”

“They never bite me.”

“I remember that,” she said. “It used to piss me off. I’d pile on the DEET and still get attacked.”

“It’s because you’re so soft and sweet,” he said, moving closer. “My hide’s tough, so they leave me alone.”

“Uh-huh.” She looked back at him uncertainly. “So…”

He grinned and with his body nudged her backward to the bed. It wasn’t high, so her calves hit it and he caught her before she fell, lowering her to the mattress and then coming down beside her. “Tag…”

“Sssh. It’s okay.” He kissed her mouth softly. “No rush, Kyla. Let’s just…make out.”

He felt her smile against his lips. “You sound like we’re in high school.”

“Maybe we should’ve done this when we were in high school.”

“You didn’t want to. Remember?”

He paused. “Yeah.” He’d been trying to do the right thing back then. “But that was a long time ago.” He kissed one corner of her mouth. They stretched out on the bed, her on her back, him beside her, leaning over her but not even really touching her. Other than the hand he cupped her cheek with.

“I’m still not sure about this…”

Assertive, confident Kyla was so sweetly uncertain, and that tugged at something deep inside him yet again. He rose up and looked down at her face, rubbing her bottom lip with his thumb. “I know, sweetheart.”

Her eyes flickered at the endearment.

“We could just talk for a while,” he said. “I’m not sure about this either. But we’re not in high school. We’re adults now. We both know what we want…right?”

“Yes.” Her dark eyes gazed back at him, gleaming in the faint light.

“So what’s wrong with it?”

“You know as well as I do. Our families.”

“They don’t have to know about this.”

She sighed. “They’ll know. Somehow. But even if they don’t―what if this makes things all awkward between us? That will affect them.”

He stroked her soft lip, rubbed his fingertips over her velvety cheek. “I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

“I don’t either.”

He regarded her solemnly. “Do we stop then?”

She held his gaze.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled. “But we need to be honest. I want you. Hell, Kyla, I can’t explain it except you make me so fucking hot for you.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “But I’m not into relationships. Relationships haven’t worked out so well for me in the past. And I’ve got a lot on my plate right now with this move.”

She gave a tiny nod. “I know. I’m not looking for a relationship either. I’m trying to make partner and I don’t have time for anything else in my life.”

He wanted to point out to her how unhealthy that was, that there should be other things in her life―family, friends, time for herself, for fun, for her health. But since he’d also just said he wasn’t into relationships, he pushed that thought away and said, “Then we’re on the same page. I know you feel it―we both want it. We want each other.”

“Yes.”

“Okay then…” And he kissed her again. Covered her mouth with his and took it, in a long, slow, heated kiss. Christ, her mouth was soft. And warm. And sweet. He licked along her bottom lip and then inside her mouth, slowly. Heat rushed through his body, an intense urgency that he had to fight to control. Slow…easy…they had all night.

All night. The thought made his body burn, his gut ache with longing for her.

He slid his hand into her hair, all silky, and bit softly at her lips. She let out a soft sigh of pleasure and then, finally, her hands came up to touch him too. One hand curled around his biceps, the other clutched his shoulder. Her tongue slid against his, delicate and warm, and more heat built inside him, low down inside him. He groaned.

“Jesus, Kyla,” he sighed against her mouth. “I just wanna eat you up.” An almost overpowering sexual hunger for her rose up inside him.

“I know, I know.” They kissed again, mouths clinging, tongues playing. The temperature in the tent rose by several degrees even as the wind picked up outside, blowing the trees into dancing shadows, rushing through the branches in soft whispers and moans.

He shifted his mouth from hers and dragged it across her jaw, breathing in that coconut scent that smelled like sex on the beach, remembering fingering her to an orgasm earlier that day. And then she closed her teeth on his jaw and bit him, gently, and heat spiked inside him, hot and fast. Her tongue dragged across his skin and his mind blew up then, and he moved over her, pushing her body into the air mattress with his own, on his elbows above her, holding her head with both hands, and he kissed her again, this time hard, demanding, urgent.

“Okay,” he gasped. “Forget talking.”

Her hands slid over him, down his back and then up into his hair, back down to his ass. Her hips lifted against him, just barely, a supplication, and he pushed back, pelvis to pelvis, his dick hard and throbbing against her softness.