“You shouldn’t be here,” he growled.

“You weren’t supposed to be here,” she retorted breathlessly as he stood by the fire, watching her with narrowed, hungry eyes. “I didn’t hear you drive in.”

And she would have heard him. As heavy and deep as the snow was outside, there was no way he could have slipped in.

“I never left,” he informed her, scowling. “Only a moron would have ventured out today knowing this was coming.”

“Well now, doesn’t that put me in my place?” she murmured, amused at the veiled insult, though she held back the fact that Kye had sworn he was gone.

His lips thinned at the comment, the dark amber of his eyes gleaming harshly between narrowed lashes.

“I’ll get the snowmobile out and take you to Dawg’s.” He all but demanded she leave with that offer. “His place isn’t far from here.”

She wasn’t about to go anywhere unless he physically dragged her out of the house. Not now. Not with this tension whipping through the air and the sudden, heated certainty that she had no intention of ignoring whatever it was that flared between them so often.

Lyrica Mackay as Graham Brock’s new flavor of the month? Her brother, Dawg, would have a stroke when he heard that one.

“If I wanted to get out in the snow, Graham, I would have let Dawg do just that earlier. It’s beautiful to watch, but I’m really not into being out in it,” she informed him archly. Her gaze drifted to his bare chest again, loving the way the firelight played against the mat of hair at his chest. It looked like burnished gold, warm and inviting.

She was pathetic.

She was hopeless.

No doubt he and his latest little love bunny laughed often over the silly little Mackay and her crush on him. It was nauseating. No matter the insults she flung at herself, she couldn’t keep her gaze from him, couldn’t stop wanting him.

He was her fascination. Her weakness. She couldn’t help it, no matter how hard she tried.

“I can’t believe Dawg didn’t head out here anyway,” he growled, muscular arms crossing over his broad chest as he continued to glare at her.

“He might have, if he had known you were home,” Lyrica pointed out with a grin. “I believe he may be under the impression that you’re not exactly in residence.”

His eyes widened briefly before his scowl turned to a glare so fast that she almost missed the transformation. “You’re trying to get me killed,” he muttered.

She would have laughed, but she couldn’t get the sound past the racing beat of her heart or the breathless need tearing through her.

She hated what he did to her. Hated how he made her realize things about herself that she hated realizing. Things such as the fact that she was ready to beg him to touch her.

“Well, if Dawg killed you, Graham, then Kye wouldn’t have to worry about any more of your little snuggle bunnies running around the house at all hours,” she pointed out innocently, though the thought of it had the power to make her burn with jealous anger. “I think she lives in fear of seeing any more of your naked lovers traipsing down the hallway. She’s convinced she’s been traumatized, you know.”

Several months before, she and Kye both had watched in amazement as his lover had stepped into the kitchen completely naked, then opened the fridge and gathered a variety of fruits and cheeses, along with a bottle of wine, before moving upstairs once again.

For the briefest second, amazement transformed his features.

“Kye lives in fear of it, or you do?” he growled, his voice deepening, turning darker.

A flush raced over her face. She could feel the heat of it, the anger spurring it, and narrowed her eyes back at him in response.

“I just hope you use protection. It would be a shame if that fine body of yours started wasting away from some bug you’d picked up and couldn’t get rid of.” She mocked his response lightly. “There’s little enough eye candy in this county as it is. Losing some of it would be a crime.”

“Viper,” he muttered.

“Prick,” she countered, a brow arching with a satirical grin. “Really, Graham. You’re pretty to look at and all, but I’m sure your attitude would spoil the view eventually.”

His arms dropped from his chest and he prowled closer to where she sat on the couch.

Oh, boy.

She had no idea what she’d set loose inside him, but there was no doubt something was free. His eyes glittered with it, his expression hardening as he moved closer.

“That tongue of yours is going to get you in trouble,” he warned her.

Suddenly, the daring and curiosity that had filled her moments before deserted her. He wasn’t hiding that hunger now. In that moment, he didn’t give a damn if she saw the lust raging in his eyes and on his face.

“So Dawg tells me often,” she informed him as she moved quickly to her feet. “You should discuss it with him,” she suggested. “Tomorrow. Good night, Graham.”

Turning, she moved to leave the living room and the hunger that flared so bright, so hot in his eyes . . .

“Like hell.”

A hard band wrapped around her waist, pulling her to a hard stop as she was brought against the powerful body behind her in one smoothly executed move.

Oh god.

She hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t even fantasized about this. Not like this. So dark and dominant that it awoke a knee-weakening submission inside her she had never imagined she possessed.

“Graham.” The soft exclamation escaped her lips as he pulled her around and brought her body against his once again, holding her to him as he stared down at her silently.

His gaze burned with lust. Narrowed and intense, it went over her face as she watched him, breathless. Her breasts rose and fell swiftly against his hard chest, her nipples pressing imperatively into the thin silk as though to reach heated flesh.

“You always have that look in your eyes,” he muttered, one hand moving to cup her neck as it pushed beneath her hair. “Hungry but innocent.”

She fought to breathe as she watched his lips move, not really caring what he was saying. She wanted him to kiss her. Wanted him to give her whatever it took to ease the hunger that clawed at her each time she saw him.

How unfair was it, the way she craved just the sight of him, when it was more than obvious he had no problem staying away from her?

His thumb brushed over her jaw, sending a rush of sensation racing across her flesh.

“Are you going to kiss me, Graham, or just keep spoiling the view with your attitude?” she finally whispered, desperate for that touch, that taste of him.

“Kissing you would be the biggest mistake of my life.” He sighed, but he wasn’t letting her go.

“Yeah, mine, too.” She breathed out, curling one arm up around his neck. “So why not just make it together?”

She lifted to him.

His head lowered.

The second their lips met it was as though the hunger, carefully contained, escaped with a rush, determined to be imprisoned no longer.

His hunger was voracious. Her need was unquenchable.

Graham’s lips slanted over hers as he lifted her closer, his tongue pressing between her lips, feeding on her need as he tasted every lush, sensual promise she made in return.

The lash of heat and overwhelming pleasure wasn’t expected. In all her fantasies, all her heated explorations of her own body, she had never imagined pleasure like this. Hadn’t guessed it could be so hot, so filled with such exquisite pleasure.

Spearing her hands into the overlong hair at the back of his head, Lyrica curled her fingers into the rough silk feel of it to hold him to her. She couldn’t bear the thought of stopping. Couldn’t imagine ever living without his touch, his kiss, now that she’d had it.

Heat rushed through her system as he nipped at her lower lip, licked it as he lifted her into his arms, a low, muttered groan vibrating in his chest as he lowered her back to the couch. A hard, muscled thigh pushed between hers, spreading her legs as he came over her. At the same time he loosened the knot of her robe, pushing it to the sides of her breasts as he broke the fiery kiss.