Can't Fight This Feeling (Craving 1985, #2) by Kirsten S. Blacketer

Can't Fight This Feeling (Craving 1985, #2) by Kirsten S. Blacketer

Author:Kirsten S. Blacketer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: 1980s, retro, brother's best friend, second chance, steamy romance, mutual pining, romance
Publisher: Kirsten S. Blacketer
Published: 2022-12-27T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Fourteen

Rob

I fucked it up again. Damn it.

I meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood. But instead of easing the tension, it inflamed her temper. There were a hundred things I could have said to offer comfort and support, but I stuck my foot in my mouth instead.

Her pulse pounds beneath my fingertips pressed against her wrist. My other hand lingers on her jaw, and I plead for her to look at me. A smart man would let her go, let her be angry at him. But I can’t bear the thought that I caused her even a moment’s pain.

Marcy spins around, pulling away from my touch. Her eyes blaze with internal fire.

“You’re right. I almost killed someone tonight. Is there anything else you’d like to point out?” She folds her arms across her chest, emphasizing her breasts hidden by the thin tank top.

“Marcy, I didn’t...”

“Didn’t what? Think before you spoke? No shit.” She huffs and throws her hands up. “Thank you for coming to my rescue tonight. Now get the fuck out.”

One step forward and two steps back. My hope deflates at her dismissal, but I’ve gained this ground, and I refuse to give it up so easily. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what the fuck just happened?”

“What happened?” She scoffs. “That bitch happened. Breaking into my house is one thing but throwing herself all over you to try to get out of any punishment is a whole new low.”

I blink twice. She’s actually jealous. The realization strikes me like a physical blow and leaves me reeling.

But this is progress. I’ve never seen her truly jealous before. The flush of pink on her skin, the flaring nostrils, the firm set of her lips. She’s livid, and now I know why.

“Wait a minute, are you telling me you’re more upset because a woman flirted with me than you are that she broke into your apartment and scared the hell out of you?”

“No.” She stiffens at the accusation, but it’s too late. I see the truth through the cracks of her facade.

“I’ve known you for too long, Marcy, and I can read you like a book.” A smile tugs at my lips, but I force myself to suppress it. I’ll have the truth from her if it kills me.

“No, you can’t.”

“I can.” I step closer, and she backs away from me, eyes wide. “What? Are you afraid I might take her up on her unspoken offer?”

“No.”

“Wrap my hand in those curls and pin her against the wall. Take my fill of those lips and her dangerous curves.” Satisfaction pours through me at her indignant gasp.

“I don’t care what you do or with whom.” She jabs her finger in my chest right before she hits the wall. “But I’ll be damned if I let you screw some hussy in my living room.”

My hands rest on the wall, framing her shoulders, holding her in place. Her quick breaths amplify the rise and fall of her chest. My gaze dips to the creamy skin exposed by the gaping tank top.



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